Tourists' famous 1948 Leeds win is put down to England's 'ignoble' and 'wretched' play

The latter offers the opportunity to stock up on reading matter to get through another long winter and recent nights have been given over to a new, slightly dog-earred, slant on one of the great tours in the game's history – the visit of Donald Bradman and his "Invincibles" to England in 1948 and in particular the fourth Test of that series, at plain old Headingley.

It comes from an Australian perspective through the eyes of Jack Fingleton, who did not always get on with Bradman. Fingleton, himself a fine Test batsman, was one of the first cricketers to make a reputation for himself as a commentator on the game both in print and on air.

Old Headingley certainly was and times – in Yorkshire no less than the rest of the country – were bleak that summer as the privations of war continued to bear down but, to relieve the harshness of everyday life, those were special days for sport with massive crowds flooding to live action of every sort, not least cricket. Sport simply provided escape.

Bradford Park Avenue had been jammed for the visit of the Australians earlier in the season and Yorkshire had their chances to win against a side without the resting Bradman; Headingley was a sea of humanity for all five days of the Test.

Reserved seats had been sold out after the first postal delivery on the designated date for applications; over 158,000 people paid for entry and receipts, at 34,213, were a record for a provincial Test with thousands more locked out.

No one seemed to care that the crowd encroached so far on to the ground that the boundary ropes were redundant – Fingleton describes it as "the smallest Test field in the world" – and a posse of 30 uniformed Bobbies was not strong enough to hold them back.

We have been brought up on tales of Headingley Tests and in particular glowing tributes to the great Bradman and his imperious record on the ground. His unbeaten 173 as Australia amazingly scored 404 runs to win in 330 minutes on the last day followed his earlier scores on the ground of 334, 304 and 103.

At the end of the tour he was made an honorary life member of Yorkshire County Cricket Club and he recalled his feelings as he made his way to the middle through the throng for his last Test innings at Leeds. "My thoughts weren't altogether clear," he said. "We wanted to win but we didn't want to lose. What should I do?"

The story of the match has been retold and regilded many times but always – at least until now – from a Yorkshireman's angle with Bradman the adopted Yorkshireman as the hero.

Fingleton, while in no way belittling the contribution from Bradman both as captain and batsman, weaves a different cloth.

For him the heroes are Neil Harvey, scorer of a wonderful century in Australia's first innings at the age of 19, Keith Miller and Sam Loxton, who shared important partnerships with Harvey, Arthur Morris, who outscored Bradman with 182 as victory was assured, and Ray Lindwall, who gave his all with the ball and made 77 crucial runs as the Australian tail whittled away at England's first innings total of 496.

There were also villains in this piece and – whisper this – some of them were Yorkshiremen. Norman Yardley, the captain, for example, had been involved in a decision to go into the match with only one spinner despite Headingley's reputation then as a ground which encouraged slow bowling.

His only front-line spinner was Jim Laker, who bowled 32 wicketless overs in Australia's second innings, so he had to turn to the decidedly part-time leg-spin of Len Hutton and Denis Compton's left-arm unorthodox mixture. Hutton bowled four overs, largely full tosses, and took 0-30, Compton taking 1-82 from 14 but in one over he appeared to have the great Bradman in several minds. Fingleton described it as "Bradman's most uncomfortable over in his whole Test career".

Jack Crapp missed a sharp chance at slip from the first delivery which ran to the boundary, Bradman glanced a four, was then missed again by Crapp when he failed to spot Compton's "bosie", and off the last ball survived a loud lbw appeal.

But there was worse to come for England; Yardley dropped Bradman when the great man had reached 50 and Godfrey Evans, usually the most reliable of wicketkeepers, missed two clear stumping chances, first against Morris off Compton then against Bradman when Laker drew the Australian captain down the pitch and beat him through the air. The final ignominy came when Laker, in front of square leg, dropped Morris off Compton despite getting both hands to the ball.

It was left to Harvey to nonchalantly hit the winning boundary after Bradman had skilfully worked the strike to give the young man another moment of glory at Headingley and for Fingleton to add a typically terse Australian verdict.

"It was, of course, a great Australian victory," he wrote. "But due allowance must also be made for England's ignoble cricket on the final day. It was wretched stuff. Had the chances been taken England would have won."

History – or least a version of history – has not told us that story. Thanks goodness for bookstalls and volumes like Brightly Fades the Don.