The photograph of Sir Don Bradman – the greatest cricketer who ever lived, taken during Australia’s home series against South Africa in 1931/32 is one that boasts an ethereal quality, writes Stephen Brenkley.

Doubtless, it is a bit of a swizz in an exercise such as this. Nominating one among hundreds of head and shoulders shots of Don Bradman. But this one is just about perfect. In it, he looks like the greatest player who ever lived.

This selection was hardly straightforward. Perhaps the most celebrated action shot of recent years was Andrew Strauss’s airborne catch to dismiss Adam Gilchrist off Andrew Flintoff at Trent Bridge in 2005, captured gloriously by both Patrick Eagar and David Ashdown.

Over recent years my friends Laurence Griffiths (who published an entire book of exquisite photos of grounds, From The Boundary’s Edge), Tom Shaw (who took a series of meaningful portraits of England captains now hanging at Lord’s), Gareth Copley (whose shot of Jonathan Trott diving vainly to regain his ground at The Oval in 2009 was world sports photo of the year) and Phil Brown (who has a wonderful knack for being in the right place) have done brilliant work, defying fears that their craft is extinct now that everyone’s a photographer.

Among photographs seriously considered here were the unforgettable image of the scene at The Oval in 1968 as England record a pulsating victory. Every player is in shot, imploring, as umpire Charlie Elliott raises his finger to give out John Inverarity. Only the square-leg umpire Arthur Fagg is missing.

There was another picture from The Oval to contemplate, from 1926 when the Ashes were regained and the crowd invaded. What jubilation.

Or the picture of Bradman leaving the field after his world record 334 at Headingley in 1930. Spectators massed to wish him well but parted like the Red Sea to allow his exit, watched by one benevolent constable.

And then there was this. It was taken in the 1931/32 series against South Africa when Bradman raised his overall Test average to its highest of 112.29. There is about it an ethereal quality: collar up, baggy green in place, a man utterly at ease, smiling serenely, looking into the middle distance. The provenance is unknown but it was probably taken originally for a magazine cover and now accompanies most Bradman memorabilia.

When my daughter was born I gave her a framed copy. She has shown not the slightest interest in cricket in 14 years but the photo remains in her room, an everyday reminder of man in excelsis. It is a small but magisterial image, maybe untypical of the man; and picking it also avoided upsetting one of Messrs Griffiths, Shaw, Copley and Brown.

First published in September 2017