India have been marmalised, the trumpets have been sounded for England's ascent to No1 in the Test rankings and the ceremonial mace polished for surrender at The Oval after three such dominant performances by the home side that disgruntled fans of the tourists could be forgiven for purloining Casey Stengel's old lament about the 1962 New York Mets: "Can't anybody here play this game?" They can, of course, but have been made to look so bereft of confidence and form that on the rare moments when they have held the upper hand – on the first morning at Lord's or with the hosts 124 for eight at Trent Bridge – England's self‑assurance as well as their skill has seen them through the storm.

England's batsmen have been magnificent – five of the established top seven scoring centuries, two of them doubles – even if the attack they have plundered has been lame or green and the lower order has revelled in sadistically turning the screw. But if you are looking for a man of the series, Jimmy Anderson, if he recovers from his thigh strain to play in the fourth Test on Thursday , must be a prime contender. The resurgent Stuart Broad has taken more wickets but Anderson's mastery of movement and ability to give a great batsman's technique the most exhaustive examination has produced more irresistible spells.

It has been a long journey from Anderson's international debut to establishing himself in the position he cherishes as "attack leader". Indeed so regularly is the phrase "leader of the pack" mentioned when describing him, you half expect to hear a Harley‑Davidson engine raspily rev up and cue in The Shangri-Las.

In December 2002, only a year after regularly playing for his home town, Burnley, in the Lancashire League, he was fast‑tracked into the academy and then to his one-day international debut on the recommendation of Ronnie Irani's father, another Jimmy.

At the 2003 World Cup, in only his 12th game, he took the wickets of Saeed Anwar, Inzamam-ul-Haq and Mohammad Yousuf, bowling the last with a peach of a first-ball yorker. Then came disaster. Nasser Hussain recognised the mettle in Anderson, an ability to think on the hoof and not get fazed by pressure. The captain threw him the ball for the penultimate over of the deciding group match, with Australia requiring 14 off two overs. It was a bold move, especially since Andrew Caddick had taken four for 35 and had an over in hand. Andy Bichel, Australia's No10, read Anderson's slow ball perfectly and slogged it for six, then smashed another four and the game was essentially lost.

He was in the Test team the next summer and for four years interspersed cavalier bursts with long periods of inactivity, carrying the drinks, being usurped by Liam Plunkett and Sajid Mahmood and enduring long dogged net sessions of well-meaning tinkering with his action to eradicate the famous shoegazing lurch of the neck during his follow-through. It was designed to avert injury and ended up with him suffering a stress fracture before he returned to his natural style.

Restored to fitness and the selectors' full trust in New Zealand in 2008 he has been the mainstay of the attack ever since, bowling manfully during the 2009 Ashes and a year later, with 11 wickets against Pakistan in Nottingham, hitting a peak from which he shows no signs of dismounting. His brilliance in Australia, the glorious opening spell at Adelaide Oval in particular, demolished the theory that he was an English-conditions specialist as comprehensively as he dismantled Steve Smith's stumps at the MCG. He was regularly inducing more nicks than a rusty razor and to be caught in the cordon "bowled Anderson" became the default dismissal for the cream of Australia's batting.

And he has carried on where he left off in Tests in Australia. In the three matches of this series his 18 scalps have catapulted him above Andrew Flintoff, Steve Harmison, Darren Gough, Caddick and Alec Bedser in England's all-time list of Test wicket-takers. Sixteen more will see him surpass Brian Statham as the most successful of all Lancastrian bowlers.

Nine years ago, when he made his international debut, the name "Jimmy" did not suit his quiet character. He was very much a James then but he has the swagger of a Jimmy now, undaunted by any batsman. He's a narky sod, too, as he frequently demonstrates, kicking the turf and memorably riling Mitchell Johnson. In an episode of Seinfeld there is a magnificent cameo character called Jimmy, who refers to himself in the third person. "Jimmy's gonna get you," he cries when thwarted. "Jimmy holds grudges." Both apply to our Jimmy, and the former has been England's rallying call for the past few years. After enduring so long in the wilderness, he deserves all the praise he gets.