When I was 10, my family moved from London to Sussex. I was delighted: living in the country, it was easier to take up cricket. I joined my local village club, Glynde and Beddingham, and played for the juniors. When I was 15, I made the first XI, and opened the batting for a couple of seasons (my top score was 92). Then I went to university and all but gave up cricket.
So imagine my surprise when I learned that my old team were to play at Lord's. This wasn't because they had managed to parachute themselves into the first class game. They had reached the final of the National Village Cup, open to villages with populations of under 5,000. Glynde - population 258 - had battled their way through nine rounds. In the final they faced Streethouse from West Yorkshire.
A few days before last Monday's final an article appeared in the Times depicting it as battle of northern plebs versus southern toffs. I spoke to one of my old team mates, Taffy, a builder. "Some of us didn't agree with that," he said. "They're always saying that we're toffs, just because of Glyndebourne [Glynde is home to the opera house]. But Glyndebourne has nothing to do with us."
Some 2,000 spectators attended the final. The atmosphere in the two occupied stands was as raucous as for any Ashes contest. Glynde batted first, and made good progress thanks to their elegant opener, 22-year-old carpenter Joe Adams. A flurry of wickets fell mid-innings, but things were revived by some lusty blows from Dom Harris, a window fitter known as the "Pocket Rocket". Glynde finished 207-9 off 40 overs.
The Streethouse innings was a more sedate affair but a series of late slogs brought the Yorkshire team close and only two late wickets prevented them winning. As the rain began to fall, the spectators congregated in front of the pavilion to watch the presentation. Graham Baker, another former Glynde player, stood with his hands in his coat pockets, looking cold. "That was a brilliant match, and a credit to both sides," he said. "And now we can all go home."