The story of Shane Warne’s debut Ashes series is usually told in one ball. It has its own Wikipedia page, its own song (Jiggery Pokery by the Duckworth Lewis Method) and its own mythology. But while the theatre and symbolism of that delivery to Mike Gatting are unimprovable, the full story of Warne’s 1993 Ashes is a little more Homeric. It is told in 2,639 deliveries – the most ever bowled in a Test series, during which he made himself at home in England’s subconscious.

If the ‘Ball of the Century’ was a killer lead single, the album that followed was full of subtler classics. It revealed a bit more with each listen: variety, intelligence, aura and much else besides. Some mystery spinners are one-hit wonders; by the end of the 1993 Ashes, when Australia had won 4-1 and Warne had 34 wickets at 25.79 in six Tests, it was clear England were dealing with a potential all-time great.

“I faced some of the fastest bowlers in history,” says Robin Smith. “But Warnie was the one bowler who really intimidated me. Give me Sylvester Clarke on a dodgy pitch over Warnie any day of the week. Clarke might knock me out; Warnie would just get me out.” Smith, and England, were neither forewarned nor forearmed.

“My memories are that we knew very little about him beforehand,” says Mike Atherton, one of only three England batsmen to play all six Tests that summer. “It was different then – there wasn’t the dissemination of information there is now, and I can’t remember any footage being made available. There certainly wasn’t a sense of threat about Warne before the series.”

There were a few reasons for that. Warne had a modest Test record, averaging 31 after 11 games, although he’d had a good Australian summer against West Indies and especially New Zealand. It rained so much before the first Test at Old Trafford that the England players – and Warne himself – thought Australia might prefer the finger-spinner Tim May. And in a tour game at Worcester a month earlier, Graeme Hick had butchered Warne while making 187, including a burst of four sixes in 10 balls. There was one unknown caveat: Allan Border had told Warne to bowl nothing but leg-spinners and keep his variations under wraps.

Smith was reluctant to ask for help, lest it show weakness, but Atherton picked the brains of Gooch, who played majestically for most of the series. “Goochie was a great player, and in his golden period,” says Atherton. “Informally, I would certainly chat to him and that’s how it was done then – peer-to-peer rather than the coaches giving you information.”

Some of the batsmen could not cope – mentally, technically or both. There were a number of embarrassing dismissals, either because the batsman offered no stroke or, in Gatting’s case, didn’t know they were out. Smith was dismantled, averaging 28 in the series before he was dropped for the final Test. “He just got inside my head,” says Smith. “He tormented me with demons that didn’t even exist. He barely said a word but the way he looked at me really unsettled me – it was superior and knowing, as if he’d already decided exactly how and when he was going to put me out of my misery.”

Smith was Hampshire captain when Warne joined the county in 2000, and they became best friends. On the first day of training, Warne bowled to him in the nets. “He got me out three times in about six deliveries,” says Smith. “As captain, I ordered him to bugger off, because I wanted to come out of the nets feeling upbeat about my game. It was only then – seven years after I faced him in the Ashes – that I realised just how big a hold he had over me.”