Robinson was exiled for 24 Tests. In that time, 13 other men bowled seam in Test cricket for England. Fourteen, if you count Harry Brook’s wrong-footed part-time filth.

Robinson spent part of the Ashes winter playing club cricket in Sydney, mainly to work on his game, but also to be in the right place if England needed him. One wonders how many bowlers would have had to go down for Robinson to get the call, especially given a reserve Lions squad was also in Australia. Maybe 15, even 20?

But necessity is the mother of invention or, in this case, reinvention.

Humbled in Australia, England were badly in need of an attack leader, a reliable tone-setter.

This summer is the first since 2007 that none of James Anderson, Stuart Broad or Chris Woakes will play a Test for England. Throw in the likelihood that Mark Wood will never play another Test and it means the four cornerstones of England’s pace attack have gone in the space of three years, taking 1,609 wickets with them.

So England reached out to Robinson, telling him at the start of the summer he was back on the radar. Already maturing with the captaincy, Robinson lasered in on the goal of an international recall.

Those at Hove speak of an intense focus on a chance Robinson once thought had gone. Extra training sessions, leading on and off the field amid the turmoil of a points deduction for financial issues. The bowling was in good order, and there was even a vital century with the bat against Surrey.

When the England recall came, director of cricket Rob Key called Robinson “one of the best bowlers in the world”. McCullum said he had “banged the door down”, while Stokes challenged Robinson to “stay here as long as he can”.

On a murky and moody Thursday at Lord’s, Robinson rose to the challenge.

England had been rolled over for 140 by the excellent New Zealanders and all of Key, McCullum and Stokes must have been wondering if the Ashes rebuild was going to be reduced to rubble. Salvation came from the man they had shunned.

With the clouds hovering, rain threatening and pitch nibbling, Robinson was the perfect horse for this course.

Rumbling in from the Nursery End, nipping the ball down the slope to left-hander Devon Conway.

Third ball. Front pad. Finger up. Robinson’s eyes wide with delight, Conway aghast at a review that showed enough of leg stump was being clipped.