There are those who will tell you that Andrew Flintoff is not a great cricketer. Have no truck with such people. Flintoff was uncompromisingly and unquestionably great yesterday (Monday). He bowled one of the great spells in Test cricket, and as a result, England won a Test against Australia at Lord’s for the first time in 75 years.

Oh, you can delve into the stats all you like, and you can prove by algebra that Flintoff was worse than this bloke and not even as good as that bloke. And you can say that since the Ashes series of four years ago, Flintoff has neither consistently played nor consistently delivered when he has. And all these things are true, but they do not affect the matter of greatness.

Flintoff's may not go down in history as the greatest of great careers. But Flintoff can do greatness — genuine greatness — on a seasonal basis, as he did four years ago, and on a daily basis, as he did yesterday (Monday). His thundering spell of mesmeric hostility first snuffed out the candle flame of Australian hope and then plunged them into the darkness of defeat. He bowled for an hour and a half in excess of 90mph, and every ball was a drama. Not bad for a lame lad.

Ten overs of remorseless spite, ten overs of unsparing effort. That’s one of the hallmarks of greatness: the ability to seize a moment. Flintoff never feels upstaged by greatness of an occasion. When the occasion is right, when all is right in himself, he can find the greatness to match it.

That was the way of it yesterday (Monday). A partnership of stubbornness and style from Michael Clarke and Brad Haddin had given England an attack of the doubts on day four, but as the fifth began, all it needed was a touch of authority, a touch of hard cricketing logic, demonstrating clearly that the Australians had no hope whatsoever.

Flintoff supplied this in his first over. Every cricket follower in England had been praying for a good start and Flintoff knocked fear on the head as soon as he had the ball in his hands: wicket maiden, Haddin out, caught at second slip. We regret to announce that today’s miracle has been cancelled.

Flintoff said that he had waited for ten years to get the new ball in his hands and in the second innings of this match, he has used it magnificently. With the first new ball, he whipped out the Australia openers, and with the second, he won the match.

He took on the baseball role of the closing pitcher, and played it with style and relish. A great striker of poses at his moments of greatness, he greeted his next wicket with one of his finest.

Nathan Hauritz played a leave-shot and was horrified to see the ball jag back and smack off stump: Flintoff, down on one knee with arms extended (a pose once favoured by another Freddie, of Freddie and the Dreamers) and held it, chest inflated, trying to fight back an overwhelming grin with his best expression of stern resolve.

One more, then, for the honours board, and that followed quickly enough. He had bowled a no-ball with what would have been the last ball of the over, so he had one more at Peter Siddle, and it was one too many. It was the same ball that did for Hauritz. Siddle at least played at his but missed.

So that’s five wickets. The name of Flintoff is now on both of the honours boards for his achievements at Lord’s: his five for 92 in this match going with a hundred he made against South Africa in 2003. He is only the sixth player to make both the batting and the bowling honours board. Lord’s is a remarkable arena, and very few people have ever dominated it. But Flintoff dominated every square inch of the old place.

It was a performance that was all about dominance. He took hold of the occasion and the match and made them both his own. He took complete command of space and time. He raised his game and raised it again, and gave us as glorious a spell of bowling as any England fast bowler has ever given.

Every match may be Flintoff’s last. Any ball could be his last. Time after time, he limped to his mark yesterday (Monday), and then thundered in, only to limp again. He is held together with chewing-gum and glue, but he can still reach great performances by means of habit and adrenalin.

Trouble is, even the habit is wearing a bit thin these days. Every second of Flintoff’s remaining Test career is to be treasured. It’s even possible that we have already seen his last spell. If so, it was one to savour. It was great. Nothing less.