Faded Grandeur

If you were thinking about rating the most picturesque arenas in world cricket, Gloucestershire's County Ground, in the mundane suburbs of northern Bristol, would come well down anyone's list. No Cathedral spire to enhance the view, few trees to provide shade from the sun, and, on a warm Tuesday in late June, with the schools still in and the new age of austerity well under way, a scattering of spectators for the second day of a County Championship Division Two game between the home county and Middlesex. An atmosphere heavy with the pervasive air of long faded grandeur, aptly exemplified by the names - undeniably glorious but oh so old - used to distinguish different parts of the ground: Grace, Jessop, Hammond.

Twenty years ago, when a team containing Gatting, Haynes, Ramprakash, Emburey and Tufnell used to dominate the county game, I'd follow Middlesex around the country. The hot summer of 1990 saw me watch them at Derby, at The Oval, at Uxbridge on a killing day when the temperature was nudging thirty degrees by ten in the morning and Jimmy Cook batted long, and, finally, as autumn drew in, winning the title at Hove. A few months later I moved to Devon, and, after some transitional years when I held a torch for the Seaxes, settled for life in the outer at Taunton.

There are still times, though, when you feel like going back.

But the county game has changed for ever and the gap between the two divisions has long since started to bite. At Bristol the county's current side, an uneasy mixture of bitter experience and callow youth, struggled through the day with an insipid combination of bland bowling and often shoddy fielding as two exiled Kiwis, Hamish Marshall and James Franklin, and an under-rated Englishman, Alex Gidman, put them to the sword. In the mid-afternoon heat, with the game rapidly going away from his side, I found myself wondering about the thoughts of Owais Shah; less than a year ago a member of the England side, and now reduced to this.

When we left the game wasn't over, but the next afternoon saw it to a close, Gloucestershire - a moderate side themselves, in truth - winning by ten wickets and condemning Middlesex to the bottom of the table.

Despite some signs of promise in the limited over game, one of the heroes of 1990, Angus Fraser, now the county's Director of Cricket, has a job of work harder than many of his thankless Test spells on his hands if he is to restore the club to its former eminence.

It was that type of day. Throughout the escapist netherworld that is the English county game the resounding echoes of former glories are a commonplace.

Sometimes, though, they resonate just as loudly on the pitch as in the stands.

Compensation Culture

As the fourth ODI finally came to a conclusion last night (with England, hardly surprisingly, losing again) it was amusing but just a tad annoying to listen to Jonathan Agnew getting more and more frustrated at the lateness of the finish. Apparently it was nearly midnight in India, and, as Agnew had mentioned earlier in the day, he and his media colleagues (and the players, presumably) would have to get up at six to catch the plane to Orissa for the next game. Oh, and Gus Fraser didn't like the hotel in Kanpur and hopes the city won't get an IPL franchise until it improves (not that he needs to worry unless Middlesex join the IPL).

It could be worse, lads. You might not have someone willing to pay you a large amount of money to travel round the world watching cricket. And the six a.m. starts are even more taxing when you've got a crap job and it's winter in England.

I think the BBC Cricket Correspondent's job has more than enough compensations, even if you've seen enough ODIs to last three lifetimes and England still keep losing.

Twenty's Plenty

It seems to have become fashionable for people who despised the very idea of Twenty20 cricket when it was first introduced (to the professional game - us amateurs have been playing it for years) in 2003 to say how much they like it now.

Well, I try to avoid being fashionable in most areas of my life, but, in this case, I agree.

The competition has removed the often tedious middle overs seen in longer limited over games, giving rise to shorter, more punchy, and frequently more exciting matches.

I haven't been to a game and I don't intend to. My nearest county ground is 40 minutes' drive away and I don't feel like driving for more than an hour there and back to see about three hours' cricket. But, when you get home from work and you're happy just to collapse on the sofa and watch some six-hitting, Twenty20 fits the bill very nicely. Also, while most of us expected when the competition started that batsmen would be reliant on slogging, the majority now play in relatively orthodox fashion, and it has expanded many players' awareness of what they're capable of, both individually and collectively.

In the last couple of weeks we've seen superb innings from Justin Langer, Cameron White, Ronnie Irani, Sourav Ganguly and Mike Yardy, and brilliant catches from Arul Suppiah, Tim Phillips and Simon Marshall. Not much bowling there, but, as Angus Fraser will never miss an opportunity to tell you, 'it's a batsman's game'.

It is also genuinely nostalgic, exciting and just a little moving to see such large crowds on county grounds, especially the huge percentage of children. If just a few are hooked (and they will be) the game's future is surely secure.

Another benefit is that counties are using the competition to blood young players. One of the most significant appearances of the week was that of the 17 year-old Middlesex batsman Billy Godleman, who made a self-possessed and stylish 41 against Essex at Chelmsford to emphasize the unusual talent which those who have followed his progress through the England age-group sides have been aware of for a few years. Middlesex's Irish teenager Eoin Morgan was also impressive, confirming the promise he showed when I saw him in Middlesex's recent Cheltenham and Gloucester Trophy win over Somerset at Bath.

I confidently predict that a lot more will be heard of them both.