It IS grim up north (for batsmen anyway)

The latest surveys tell us that northerners are becoming more materialistic than southerners, that smoke-free pubs are more likely to gain acceptance in the south than the north and that, if you live north of the Watford Gap, you are likely to prefer the humour of Peter Kay to that of Ricky Gervais.

Perhaps these will provide the foundation of new stereotypes to replace old images of cloth-capped, whippet-walking northern folk and soft southerners tucked away at tea parties in nice quiet villages. The North-South divide is an age-old issue that has exercised the minds of politicians, economists and bitter drinkers since the Industrial Revolution, and indeed long before that.

Cricket's regional stereotype has depicted northern fast bowlers emerging from the pit to roar in at t'Colliery End on a damp, green seamers' paradise. The stereotypical English batsman, by contrast, hails from one of the southern shires, where the wickets are always true, and was probably taught the virtue of a straight bat and a high left elbow at an august public school. So, if an England team of stereotypes were to be selected, the batsmen would come mainly from the south, perhaps with a gritty Yorkshire opener to knock the shine off the new ball for them.

There would be three or four seamers from the north, supported by a spinner, perhaps raised on friendly pitches at The Oval, and a wicketkeeper from Kent, following the noble tradition of Ames, Evans and Knott.

Anachronistic twaddle? Let us see how the current side compares. On last winter's tour of South Africa, four of the top five batsmen came from the south: Trescothick, Strauss Butcher/Key, and Thorpe (though Strauss was the only public schoolboy). The exception was Yorkshire's Michael Vaughan - who certainly began as a gritty opener, at least before England central contracts forced him to spend most of his time with the southerners.

The seam and swing bowlers came from the north: Harmison, Hoggard, Flintoff and Anderson. The fifth quick was Simon Jones of Glamorgan, which in socio-economic and cricketing terms is closer to north than south. The spinner, Ashley Giles, came from Warwickshire but learnt his cricket in Surrey; the wicketkeeper, Geraint Jones, plays for Kent. Perhaps those old sepia stereotypes have merely been updated into the Technicolor of the 21st century.

But did that stereotypical England side ever actually take the field? Well, yes and no. In the early years of Test cricket the England team - and especially the seam bowling - was dominated by players from Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire and Lancashire. The side for the inaugural Test at Melbourne in 1876-77 included five Yorkshiremen and only four southerners (including the aptly named Surrey offspinner, James Southerton). Five years later, when Australia won at The Oval and the Ashes were created, three northerners formed England's main seam attack.

At the turn of the century the northern bowlers were still dominant. And the impending Golden Age of batsmanship was largely (but not exclusively) driven by southerners: Hobbs, Woolley, Fry, Hearne. (And of course Ranjitsinhji, the Maharajah Jam Saheb of Nawanag, and one of the most southerly southerners of all - at least until Geraint Jones, who was born in Kundiawa, Papua New Guinea.)

By the Bodyline series of 1932-33 there was a more mixed look to the side. But Gubby Allen, who bowled fast for Eton, Cambridge and Middlesex, was still a rarity. Most of Douglas Jardine's dirty work was done by Harold Larwood and Bill Voce, a pair of miners from Nottinghamshire. It was not until after the Second World War that the attack developed a more variegated appearance, but the batting then took on a solidly southern look. In the top six that helped clinch the 1953 Ashes at The Oval Len Hutton was the only northerner. This southern bias in the batting has never really ended, with northerners also outnumbered in the Ashes-winning batting line-ups of 1970-71 and 1981.

So why does this pattern recur? There is little doubt that the contrasting climatic conditions in England create a certain North-South divide of their own. While Old Trafford, with its spin-friendly pitches, continues to defy the Manchester climate, Headingley, Chester-le-Street and Derby are all welcoming havens for the canny seamer. Down south the Rose Bowl may be taking time to settle but otherwise most southern squares are approached with confidence by incoming batsmen.

So, is it down to the pitches on which players learnt the game? Northern pitches favour seamers, so that is what the young tend to take up. Or perhaps it is the wickets on which players performed to attract attention? A seamer is more likely to take an eye-catching number of wickets on frisky pitches at Chester-le-Street than flat ones at Taunton.

No, says the England selector Geoff Miller. "I think it's probably just coincidental that we've had that pattern recently," says Miller, who crossed the divide as a county cricketer when he moved from Derbyshire to Essex. "These players have earned their places by playing well in different conditions over a lengthy period of time. They may get help from the surfaces at their home grounds but, in weaker players, that can breed false confidence which is then exposed when they play away from home."

Selectors aim to watch enough county cricket to be able to judge, for example, the true worth of a Durham bowler who has taken 50 wickets or a Somerset batsman who has scored a mountain of runs. "The days of the speculative selection are long gone," says Miller. "We're looking for consistency in selection, stability in the team and a conveyor belt of players coming through for two to three years down the line. We'd been watching Rob Key and Ian Bell closely for 18 months before they were chosen."

So a player's home ground makes little difference in selection? "When you're looking at players, you've got to see them play in good and bad conditions," says Miller. "You've got to see them playing attacking and defensive innings, you've got to see them play well and play badly, then see how they react when they've not done so well. You're looking to build a whole picture."

The last selection in which recent form played a significant role, according to Miller, was when Ed Smith was called up to face South Africa in 2003 after making five centuries in six innings. "It was important for us to show then that good performances in county cricket could still win selection," says Miller. (It was a shame for our stereotypical England team that Smith - of Tonbridge School and Cambridge - did not hang on to his place.)

So, if the conditions players meet on their home ground in county cricket are not having a direct influence on selection, perhaps the formative years in helpful conditions have given some sort of encouragement. In which case, the stereotypes would be especially applicable in youth cricket. Not so, according to Andy Pick, the coach of England Under-19: "We certainly haven't had a noticeably large influx of either batsmen or bowlers from either north or south."

So the emergence of England players along traditional lines may just be coincidence. But, since 1990, for every cap won by a seamer who learnt his trade in the south 1.67 have been won by a northerner (as shown in the unscientific table). And southern batsmen have won more than twice as many caps as their friends in the north. If it is just coincidence, it is a coincidence that has held true since the start of the 1990s and shows no sign of ending.