But between the showers and the mopping-up exercises, the frustrations of delay and the quiet hum of genteel hedonism that makes Lord's a great social as well as cricket occasion, there was a growing awareness that a cricketer of substance had arrived.
It would be wrong to describe Anderson as an overnight success since many nights have passed since he first played for Lancashire back in 2002, and he has been a Test cricketer for six years now.
But gradually, with enough patience to have impressed Samuel Beckett's Estragon, and with the help of coaches and psychologists (he has not talked about the latter but the help here has been crucial) an important player has slow-burned into life and is now at the center of England's activities.
He has shuffled, a little shyly, between the twin pillars that are Andrew Fintoff and Steve Harmison, pillars that look slightly crumbly and even a little defaced with graffiti, so that he is in front of them now as the nation's champion fast bowler, the leader of the pack.
We are not simply talking about a bowler here. His batting with Monty Panesar to save the first Test at Cardiff is already the stuff of fresh-minted legend.
Today we saw a different batsman, one who counter-attacked with Graham Onions so that the last pair spoiled the early successes of the Australian bowlers and at the same time warmed themselves up for their own offensive; there were five fours in his 25-ball 29.
He has also become one of the most relevant fielders in the England side. Already the best all-round athlete in the team, he now has a safe pair of hands too, good enough to stand at gully where his friend Alastair Cook only fitfully looked the part.
There have not been many England fast bowlers good enough to field close to the bat. Fred Trueman, of course, was famously brilliant and in fresher memory Mike Hendrick, Chris Old and Bob Willis also looked the part. But fast bowlers, traditionally, have been put out to graze at third man or long leg. John Snow comes to mind, with arms akimbo and his poet's nose thrown high as if to scent a passing sonnet.
Ok, we're not talking Garry Sobers here, the greatest of all all-rounders (the greatest of all cricketers, some would say, because unlike Don Bradman he demonstrated his genius across the globe and with more varied skills).
But Anderson is no longer one-dimensional. He is growing into a substantial cricketer. He is a father now. He has a new agent too. His smile is more relaxed and less nervous than it once was.
There is a depth to him that was not always there. There is a resilience now so that when he is attacked his confidence does not collapse as it once appeared to. Last year Allan Donald helped him to think of himself as the most important bowler in the team. But it is Anderson himself who must take most credit for the cricketer we see before us today.