The cricket I grew up watching has ended

Noted British journalist Simon Heffer says, in the Daily Telegraph, that he could attempt to get his children interested in the new form of cricket if he wished to be cruel to them. Heffer believes watching cricket causes one to scrutinise life more exactly and that the guardians of our game – men in blazers in committee rooms – are not necessarily always well suited to the job.

Years ago, before everyone wore helmets and pyjamas, I used to go and sit in the emptiest stand at Lord's after work and watch the last hour of play, and revel in the desolation of the surroundings and the timelessness of the spectacle before me. And Francis Thompson's lines – "And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost/ And I look through my tears on a soundless-clapping host/ As the run-stealers flicker to and fro,/ To and fro: / Oh, my Hornby and my Barlow long ago!" – would drift into my mind, and it was no longer the 1980s, but the 1880s. Never let anyone tell you that there are no comforts to be had in a sense of continuity.