Wally Hammond's Sad Reprise Was One of Cricket's Many Bad Judgments

it is a regret of mine that I missed Tom "Curly" Richardson, one of our greatest fast bowlers, by just 17 years – not really such a long time when we fancifully span cricket's expansive history. In 1912 his body was found – though never quite explained – on a French hillside. By then it was physically unrecognizable from the well‑muscled figure who with Bill Lockwood had regularly cheered and uplifted the Oval crowds.

He was only 41, though the decline had been going on for several years. The cheeks were already puffy and the eyes listless. He carried too much weight at the midriff and moved with the sluggish reluctance of a man who had perhaps lost the will to live. Tom no longer looked, even remotely, like a Test performer, feared for his pace, liked for his good nature.

The mystery of his death led inevitably to rumors of suicide, the drastic course of a few of his mind-weary contemporaries. But the evidence was far too sketchy and should be discounted. Despite the absence of medical records and the findings of any kind of inquest, Richardson did appear to die from natural causes. Ill-health, increasing arthritis and an unhappy domestic life may have combined to make him thoroughly miserable but not to the extent of killing himself.

As someone who lives some miles from Surrey, I find it hard to determine why exactly the swarthy Tom, a well‑built man of kindly thoughts and Gypsy blood, became one of my posthumous heroes. It must be because of the well‑intentioned though ill‑judged decision to make a single guest appearance after he had retired as a Surrey player. He fell for the sentimental brandishments of Somerset's loquacious Aussie exile, Sammy Woods, who set him up in a Bath pub and then persuaded him to play for Somerset against the touring Australians.

Curly's appearance was a disaster, mocking as it did the fast bowler's bountiful career and all those wickets he earned by sweat, natural prowess and instinctive, pacy technique. He was introduced as second change, something of a demotion for a former England opening bowler, and took no wickets in 13 overs of medium-paced dross. He shouldn't have played. Sammy Woods' heart may have been in the right place but the Richardson comeback was seen by many as a misplaced gimmick. Tom himself knew it was a mistake and hurried away at the close to polish the glasses and pour the first pints. His erstwhile Surrey mate, another exile, the leg tweaker and assertive Test bat Len Braund, had told him unwisely that he had nothing to lose by that belated single appearance. It must also have appealed to have one final go, however unrealistically, against the country where he had twice toured. Yet fallibility and bad judgment remain an absorbing feature of the human condition.

Was there ever anything more embarrassing than Wally Hammond's solitary match in 1951, when no longer physically fit, to play against Somerset as part of an ill-advised membership drive for Gloucestershire? He had already retired from the game, with no intention of ever playing for his county again. His stay at the crease, following the warmest of romantic welcomes as he strolled to the wicket, was brief and cruelly misplaced. He kept playing and missing; the coordination had gone. Up in the stands, the members and his once doting fans fidgeted. The Somerset slow bowler Horace Hazell, who had always idolized Hammond, swore that he tried to encourage him with half-volleys. "When Wally could do nothing with them, I shed private tears." England's great batsman and captain had made a serious mistake in agreeing to play. When mercifully he was out, the big crowd, still palpably affectionate, was silent and only wished he had left them with merely his wondrous memories.

Some, with reactionary propensities, continued for years to cite Hammond's one-time colleague Charlie Parker for what they saw as his unforgivable demonstration of public anger. That was for what happened in a hotel lift when incensed by too many slights and snubs, he grabbed Sir Pelham Warner by the neck and had to be subdued from landing a haymaker on English cricket's most revered grandee.

The cricketing regrets, not just Tom Richardson's, multiplied, right up to the time of Mike Atherton's mischievous exploration of the Test ball's seam and Andrew Flintoff's amphibious nocturnal adventures. Perhaps the saddest I experienced was during a Cheltenham festival, where I found myself talking to a blind man for whom a companion was giving a running commentary. "How I love cricket and desperately wish I could see the play." He was George Shearing, the great jazz pianist who liked to be taken to a Gloucestershire match during summer visits to this country.

Paul Collingwood's Time Off Restored His Form and His Reputation at the Champions Trophy

The art of doing nothing is invariably frowned upon. The demands made upon England's cricketers are just a reflection of modern society where, in every walk of life, every second must forever become more productive in case we all reach old age with the sudden realization that while we were lazing around every so often, we had somehow become poorer than Azerbaijan.After England announced an exhausting international schedule for 2010, it is relevant to note that the two players most responsible for their unexpected victory in the opening match of the Champions Trophy – a six-wicket win against Sri Lanka at the Wanderers – are the ones who have been allowed the rare luxury of a few days off.A couple of rounds of golf in Scotland and a few days at home with the family is not everybody's idea of a perfect rest cure, but it has done the trick for Paul Collingwood. The Scottish Tourist Board could make capital out of the way that Collingwood's brief trip north of the border has restored his vigour and silenced suggestions, for the moment at least, that his career is heading down the 18th fairway.Collingwood is a driven man, and rest goes against his instincts, but his vigorous 46 from 51 balls, with three hearty leg-side sixes, the first against the inswing of Nuwan Kulasekara that might have been designed for him, was a reminder of an uncluttered style that has served England well. On Friday night at least, this did not look like a declining batsman, at 33, living on borrowed time.Collingwood was reluctant to over-egg the benefits, aware of the formidable challenge that awaits in England's second group game, against South Africa, under the lights today at Supersport Park, but it was clear that the rest had not just healed his body, it had also cleared his mind. "People will put two and two together I guess,'' he said. "I don't know if it is coincidence but I feel pretty good at the moment and the body feels good. I was at a low point a fortnight ago, but England made a strong decision and I have felt the benefit.''James Anderson was another England player rested during the NatWest Series, and he was comfortably the pick of the attack against Sri Lanka, his 3 for 20 in 9.3 overs, to follow his four wickets against Australia at Trent Bridge, amounting to his best one-day sequence for two years. It was a gleeful new-ball assault by Anderson and Graham Onions, another fast bowler lightly worked of late, that laid the foundations for England's victory, as Sri Lanka were reduced to 17 for 4.If England must give players time off then the only conclusion, as their former captain Michael Vaughan trenchantly remarked last week, is that they are playing too much cricket. But Vaughan is trapped in an identical mindset, having just negotiated two jobs as a cricket agent and on Test Match Special – jobs that should be incompatible.By melting away the stress, Collingwood and Anderson became more productive, happier and more skillful in their work. For a country that works more hours than any in Europe, and that denigrates part-time working, it is a lesson that will not be easily accepted. The ECB should accept it – by announcing immediately that they will send an experimental squad to Bangladesh for the tour in February and March. Such a prospect would immediately lift England's spirits before a prolonged Test and one-day tour of South Africa that begins next month.Rather than castigate the ECB for their overloaded fixture list, it is better to remember that the ECB's approach is merely a reflection of wider society, where assets must forever be productive and pleasures must forever be sought, to the point where the benefits are no longer evident.For English cricket to fail to maximize its revenue would be a decision against the cultural mood and would require independent, perhaps even maverick, leadership. Increased revenue has brought vast improvements in the standards of English grounds, but the benefits of that are limited if the players have lost their edge and the crowd's appetite is dulled by repetition.The art of doing nothing has always had a central role in cricket's traditions. The championship is largely supported by an elderly clientele who are quite content to pick up a crossword, or just stare into space, whenever the game reaches a lull, satisfied that the game's gentle rhythms have removed all distractions.

Hand in Glove With Spirit of Cricket

I don't know about you, but I always picture the Spirit of Cricket as a home counties middle-order batsman. Rotund, all polite smiles, the faint whiff of mildew and a weakness against the short stuff, a loyal and popular servant, yet not quite top class. A purveyor of elegant cameos, I imagine, whose cover drive would have conjured an approving wheeze from John Arlott on Sunday afternoon TV in the 1970s, especially if it was unfurled during a battle of wits with "that wily old fox" Peter Sainsbury, the balding Hampshire off-spinner. In short, I imagine the Spirit of Cricket looks something like AGE Ealham (Kent).It's a generational thing, I'm sure. Younger cricket followers in all likelihood think of the Spirit of Cricket as something altogether more modern and dynamic, a switch-hitting CGI ghoul, freshly risen from the loam, who smashes through the door of the changing room using his mighty willow, then menaces a group of bikini-clad Twenty20 cheerleaders with a cackling cry of, "Now, that's what I call a stumping opportunity". But that's enough about Sir Allen Stanford.I guess the Australian Spirit of Cricket is an altogether different spectral presence, too – one with unabashed body hair, exuding manly odors, chewing gum and squinting into a burning sun even when it's an overcast afternoon in Chelmsford. I should think that when the English Spirit of Cricket waddles self-deprecatingly into view looking down at the ground while modestly acknowledging any applause with a vague oscillation of its bat, the Australian Spirit of Cricket studies the pear-shaped silhouette, spits, readjusts its box and growls, "Strewth, what happened to you mate? Did you blow all the housekeeping money at the pie stall?"The Spirit of Cricket has been summoned frequently in the past week. It has been evoked to castigate first England and latterly Australia, and in particular Ricky Ponting who is – according to Duncan Fletcher – barely on nodding terms with the ghost of an idea of the notion of a hint of the Spirit of Cricket.It is the glove business that has caused the fuss. All week people have been asking if what England did in Cardiff was wrong. This is a tricky question to answer. Because at the top level of cricket the line between gamesmanship and cheating is a fine one. So fine, in fact, that the people who can pinpoint exactly when an action crosses over it are rarer than photos of Shane Warne with natural hair. Among those who play to the highest standard the watchword is simple: "Others cheat. I am professional."And that to me is what was truly galling about England's final-session shenanigans on Sunday – the complete schoolboy amateurishness of it. Andrew Strauss went to Radley and all I can say is if that is the sort of sharp practice they are teaching in English public schools these days then there's little wonder Britain is no longer capable of marching into somebody else's country and forcing the indigenous population to wear ill-fitting suits and make us all a fried breakfast.A few years ago Jim Smith ripped into Robbie Savage over the Welsh footballer's alleged diving with the words, "We have all seen players who were clever at getting penalties, but he is not even clever." The implication was that if a sportsman is going to cheat he should at least do it with a bit of guile and finesse. This is a fair point. After all, cat burglars and conmen are often the heroes of books and films, but nobody would have liked Raffles if he'd been a mugger. The same applies to the England cricket team. If you are going to piddle about wasting time, at least do it in the sort of crafty manner that will allow people to wink at each other and say "You see that? He's pulled a right fast one there, hasn't he?"Back in 1963 at Wembley Stadium British heavyweight Henry Cooper knocked Muhammad Ali (then still known as Cassius Clay) on to the seat of pants with a left hook straight to what Damon Runyon would have called "the old kazoo". When the bell for the end of the round sounded seconds later the future Greatest staggered back to his stool markedly groggy. In his corner celebrated trainer and bucket man Angelo Dundee went to work and – lo and behold – discovered a rip in his fighter's glove. A trip to the dressing room to get another pair bought Ali precious extra time to recover.In the following round he opened a gash above Cooper's eye and won on a TKO. In his next fight Ali defeated Sonny Liston to become heavyweight champion of the world. Forty-five years later, Dundee admitted in his autobiography that he had made the slit himself with his thumbnail and, in all likelihood, altered the course of pugilistic history.These days we rarely see the England cricket team when they are not wearing boxing gear. Perhaps if they took time out from posing around hitting the pads in front of the photographers and studied the history of the sport instead, Sunday's feeble antics would have been avoided and the Spirit of Cricket could have kept its feet up, whatever size and shape it is.

Cricket Calls for Tough New Laws on Ticket Touts

The England and Wales Cricket Board has called for tough new laws against ticket touts, after private investigators employed by the board tracked down more than 1,900 "black market" tickets for the ICC World Twenty20 made available through internet sites such as eBay.

It is understood that the government, which up until now has favoured a voluntary solution to the problem of ordinary fans being priced out of major sporting events, is increasingly considering legislation as an option.

In its submission to a government ­consultation that closed this week, the ECB said it was forced to take drastic action to deal with the thousands of tickets bought up by both organized touting operations and so-called "bedroom touts".

It is understood that more than 1,900 tickets have been investigated, traced through 400 different sellers on eBay. Although the sellers are often anonymous, the ECB said its investigators had been able to track them down to their home address and cancel their tickets.

In a strongly worded letter, they are offered the option of a refund if they return the ticket promptly. But they are told that anyone attempting to use them will be ejected. If the ticket holder is subsequently found to have sold their tickets, the ECB said it would take them to court.

In its submission, which has been seen by the Guardian, the ECB said it had proved that websites were unwilling to engage in finding a voluntary solution and called on the culture secretary Andy Burnham to legislate.

Last year, Burnham said that reselling tickets at inflated prices adds nothing to the cultural life of the country but rather "leeches off it and denies access to those least able to afford tickets". His belief that legislation may be necessary is understood to have hardened since.

The ECB's preferred option is for a new law, similar to one proposed by the Tories earlier this year, that would ­automatically give major events the same protection afforded to football matches and the 2012 Olympics.

The discussions around major sporting events have also taken on an added urgency in light of the Rugby Football Union's decision to bid for the 2015 World Cup. The resale of football tickets is banned under existing legislation.

The ECB and other ­sporting bodies, including the RFU and the All England Club, believe their argument that legislation is necessary for major events is gathering pace.

When it launched the consultation in February, the government called on sporting bodies, websites such as eBay and ­Seatwave, and the Society of Ticket Agents and Retailers to work on a self-regulated way of stopping tickets for a defined list of "crown jewels" events being offered for resale.

It also called on the governing bodies to ensure tickets were made available to a wide range of consumers at a variety of price levels and to explore ways of ­preventing touts buying up thousands of tickets within minutes of them going on sale, as well as developing their own exchange mechanisms.

The ECB will say it has done all it can, including staggering on-sale dates, releasing tickets at a variety of price points and offering refunds within a certain window. It will also claim that the World Twenty20 tournament director Steve Elworthy has written to the major online resellers but they have refused to work with the ECB.

An eBay spokeswoman robustly defended its business model, saying that the ECB's own official exchange mechanism offered only "very limited resale". "In short, fans who find they can no longer attend the event for whatever reason would be unable to recoup their money if they had spare or unwanted tickets," she said. "Even if eBay were to agree to such voluntary measures, these tickets would simply be sold elsewhere – either on the internet or on the streets, where there is less consumer protection for fans if there is a problem with the transaction."

Expensive Air Travel? It's Just Not Cricket

What would you say was the purpose of the England and Wales Cricket Board? To encourage people to watch or play cricket? To force people to watch or play cricket against their will? To destroy all cricket except for English cricket (and some Welsh cricket, but only as a sort of Vichy-style puppet cricket)? To nail every cricket in England and Wales to a board? To promote golf?

It turns out it's the last. Thanks to the ECB's sale of the cricket TV rights to Sky, the live sport on terrestrial television this weekend is the Open, not the Lord's Test. In 2005, 8.4m watched the Channel 4 coverage of the climactic Sunday of an Ashes Test match. Last Sunday's nail-biter in Cardiff peaked at only 1.5m, which may be massive for a subscription channel, but is shit for cricket and its chances of attracting new fans.

Why did the ECB make this insane choice? For money. It forgot about building on Test cricket's growing popularity after 2005's triumph, about keeping it a presence in our national life on a channel people receive automatically, and it took a big check. It's as if it was getting out of cricket - selling up for a fast buck, taking the money and running. But it can't run - it's English cricket's governing body - so it's left holding the money while it stares at the diminished popularity and, therefore, significance, of English cricket as a result of its actions. If it's not run by golf enthusiasts, it's run by fools.

Ed Miliband is not a fool, but last week showed himself just as fond as the ECB of short-term gain when he promised to safeguard cheap air travel despite the need to cut carbon emissions. Otherwise, he said, it would mean "you would go back to 1974 levels of flying". Well, if he thinks that's the worst the environmental future could hold, he hasn't been doing his boxes. "I don't want to have a situation where only rich people can afford to fly," he continued. Who does? But then it wouldn't be the end of the world. Whereas ...

Miliband clearly thinks that being seen to jeopardize the annual British exodus to drink colder lager somewhere hotter is political harakiri. He's probably right. While he may not be the most statesmanlike steward of our environmental future, he clearly knows how to keep his head above water in a sinking government (and if he has that skill literally as well as metaphorically he's got less to fear from climate change than most).

He may represent a political class that wouldn't tell you if the room in which you were standing was on fire because predictions of smoke inhalation play badly in key marginals, but his remarks give an unsettling insight into our national obsession with cheap foreign holidays.

To deny us them is like a Roman emperor running out of bread and circuses, a French president failing to defend the Common Agricultural Policy or a Russian leader being pleasant: the people won't stand for it.

Think of the other sacrifices combating climate change may involve - massively more expensive electricity; severely rationed water; a landscape humming with wind farms or hundreds of nuclear power stations, each threatening to China syndrome western Europe if a senior technician has a bad hangover day; removing the very tea from the used teabags and recycling the perforations; having to get up to turn the television on.

And think of what we could face if we don't make those sacrifices: the sea advancing up the Kilburn High Road; hurricanes alternating with droughts; all the fish and bees dying; weird Mediterranean insects and aggressive freshwater lobsters finding their perfect habitat in the Yorkshire Dales; more English wine.

Yet, to the British, neither eventuality is half as terrifying as losing our easyJet privileges. Apparently we feel there's no point keeping the planet habitable unless we've still got quick access to Disney World and Ibiza. This is bizarre and depressing. It makes me need a holiday. Are our existences so miserable that we're only living for two weeks of escape? Have we given up on the other 50, like people who give to animal charities have presumably given up on humans?

The media reaction when there's, say, an air traffic controllers' strike in August, certainly implies some kind of national neurosis. Stranded holidaymakers are spoken to, and behave, like victims of an atrocity. The cameras pan along queues of heartbroken Britons in flipflops. "I don't know how they can do this to people!" complains someone with a tragic expression and a Hawaiian shirt as if he's talking about extraordinary rendition. Don't these thoughtless foreign trade unionists understand that it's not just people's lives or livelihoods or children or homes that they're toying with, but their holidays?

What makes all this even sadder is that so many holidays are a huge disappointment. Hotels don't look like the photos, the beaches are crowded, the food gives you the runs, you're more stuck with your bloody family than ever. And however idyllic the destination, what series of experiences can live up to such rabid expectations of joy? This is why I don't think I'll ever watch The Wire - it literally cannot be as good as people say unless it turns out not to be a TV program but a cream-cake-bottle-of-whisky-orgasm combo.

Holidays aren't for going on, still less for feeling rested by, but for looking forward to. They distract us from the daily grind because they're a light at the end of the tunnel, just before the next tunnel. As soon as we return from a trip, exhausted, broke and disappointed, we feel the overwhelming urge to book another one so we can look forward to that.

So it surely doesn't much matter what holidays actually involve. Even in Miliband's 1974 dystopia, when fewer of us went abroad, the prospect of trips to Cornwall or Blackpool kept us at least as sane as our hopes for Gatwick-launched escape do today. We've randomly fetishised "sunshine" and "abroad". But fads change. If we could only switch to "drizzle" and "model villages" then politicians might pluck up the courage to make burning kerosene as costly for us as it is for the environment.

• David Mitchell chooses his Desert Island Discs on Radio 4 FM today, 11.15am

Domestic Limited-over Cricket Reduced to 40 Overs, As Ecb Announces Schedule

England will play two Test series against Bangladesh and Pakistan next season alongside five One Day International matches against Australia in July, the ECB have confirmed.

The two-match series against Bangladesh will be followed by three ODIs between 27 May and 17 June. The four-match series against Pakistan will feature five ODIs and two Twenty20 matches, to be held between 5 and 21 September.

Australia will also play Pakistan in two Twenty20 matches at the end of June and the beginning of July.

The England Lions Team will compete in a series of ODIs against New Zealand A and India A in July while a one-day series against Pakistan in Dubai and Abu Dhabi is yet to be finalized.

Meanwhile, in domestic limited overs cricket, games will be reduced to 40 overs, rather than 50, after consultation with the first class counties. Games will be held on Sundays with the same restrictions on power plays and fielding as in international cricket.

The teams will be divided into three pools of seven teams, with sides playing six home and six away games each, before progressing to a semi-final and then a final in September.

The two-division County Championship has been given priority in the fixture program, while an enhanced Twenty20 competition will be divided into two pools of nine teams, split on a north v south basis. The top four teams from each will qualify for a knock-out quarter final before progressing to a semi-final, then a final.

The chairman of the ECB, Giles Clarke, said: "Directors of cricket and coaches reported through their county votes, that the leading one day team in world cricket - South Africa - do not mirror 50 overs at domestic level and that, provided power plays and fielding restrictions were the same as the international format, the skills required were very similar .

"The Board acknowledged that the Members of the International Cricket Council will themselves be reviewing the future of 50 over cricket after the 2011 ICC Cricket World Cup and felt that an increased program of England Lions matches should be developed in parallel to the first class counties decision about the domestic structure."

England and England Lions will continue to play 50 over cricket internationally until the ICC review is complete.

Does Size Matter for Major Cricket Grounds?

Lord's was a 28,000 sell-out for the first four days of the second Test and more than three-quarters full for Monday's play, which finished before lunch. Being there was a privilege, though, that cost the cricket lover an eye-watering £100, a price the England and Wales Cricket Board felt able to charge because of unanswerable demand.

The ECB say that a minimum of 50,000 tickets could have been sold for each of the opening three days at Lord's, Cardiff's Swalec Stadium for the first Test, or Edgbaston, Headingley and The Oval, the five grounds where the 2009 Ashes will be decided. But the ECB are unable to satisfy demand because English Test grounds are too small. While Lord's is the largest international ground in this country, it will still be only the 16th largest regular Test venue in the world even when its proposed redevelopment is completed.

Wembley and Twickenham, the national football and rugby stadiums, are the wrong dimensions to convert into temporary grounds – unlike, say, the Melbourne Cricket Ground, where 100,000 spectators can be packed in for cricket or Australian rules football. The MCG stages nearly 50 matches a year.

In 1953, 549,650 watched England win a five-match Ashes series 1-0, a record for the contest. Five years earlier, 158,000 saw Don Bradman's Invincibles defeat England at Headingley, the largest number for a single Test match in this country. Yet 10 years ago an estimated 100,000 crammed into Kolkata's cavernous Eden Gardens to watch a single day's play between India and Pakistan, while the highest officially recorded attendance was at the MCG, where 90,800 witnessed Australia play West Indies in 1961.

Crowds, though, for the longest form of the game are waning – except in England. "Test match attendances around the world have dropped," says Rahul Dravid, the great Indian batsman who is also a member of the MCC World Cricket Committee, which hopes to boost five-day cricket by experimenting with day/night Tests and a pink ball. "You want to be playing in front of crowds. Apart from in England, attendances are down."

Yet despite the appetite for Tests here and the continuing success of Twenty20 cricket, the ECB say they have no desire to build a purpose-built 50- or 60,000-seat cricket stadium, pointing to tradition and commercial viability as the prevailing factors for their stance. Nor have they expressed interest in the possibility of staging matches at the 2012 Olympic Stadium, whose future remains uncertain but could offer a multi-sport option of the kind seen elsewhere in the world.

"What delights me is the number of varied cricket grounds around the country, and they have to be of an economic sustainability for their respective counties," Giles Clarke, the ECB chairman, says. "If you were looking at building a 50 or 60 thousand stadium it would have to be a national stadium to make it economically viable, in the same way all England rugby and soccer internationals are at Twickenham and Wembley.

"One of the great charms and attractions of Test match cricket is that it goes around the country. At Cardiff earlier this month there were tracts of the crowd who'd never had the chance of watching Test cricket before. If you had a national stadium of that size, could you have a business model which would allow you to take cricket on the road?"

Yet some stakeholders in the game believe investment in current Test venues is restricting the ECB's options. "They've needed a bigger stadium for years and years," says Matthew Engel, a former editor of Wisden. "But the problem the ECB have is that because they will have nine Test grounds competing with each other, if you bring in a 10th one it becomes impossible."

Others answer the issue of financial viability by arguing that the commercial success of Twenty20, which has driven up attendances and profits, could be harnessed to sustain a new super-stadium, which would have short-form cricket as its commercial motor while also being multi-purpose to avoid it becoming a white elephant.

"People like the format of T20, that's important," says Lalit Modi, the commissioner of the Indian Premier League. "Another issue is timing. Cricket has traditionally been a day sport. With T20, its starting to become an evening sport. If you do an analysis of major sporting events around the world, the majority of rugby, football or tennis matches are played late afternoon or evenings. It's to do with disposable time. In this paradigm one needs to go out and capture the fans. I think that's the most important thing right now."

Modi is confident that England will soon need a bigger stadium. "I'm sure that will happen over the years – larger capacities will be required. The growth will continue, we need to keep going forward and build on that. Even for an exhibition match between Rajasthan Royals and Middlesex, we pretty much filled the ground without any marketing support at Lord's," he added of the 20,000 plus who watched the inaugural British Asian Challenge earlier this month.

The chief executive of Hampshire, Stuart Robertson, who played a key role in the development of the Twenty20 Cup when he was the ECB's marketing manager, believes the 2012 Olympic Stadium in east London – currently destined to be an athletics track following the Games – could fit the profile of a multi-purpose, super-stadium employed for short-form cricket.

"Economically there has to be other things going on – like an outdoor version of the O2 in London," Robertson says. "Then you would have somewhere like Lord's, a 30,000 to 40,000 stadium in the middle of London for traditional cricket. And somewhere else not hidebound by local authority planning issues on floodlights, sound and music," he said of restrictions the Marylebone Cricket Club, proprietors of Lord's, are currently working with as they draw up redevelopment plans.

"If the new ground was going to become the short-form, T20 stadium then we need to really see T20 go to the next level, to the kind of entertainment and razzmatazz of the Indian Premier League."

Hugh Robertson, the shadow sports minister, says: "Given that the public purse has paid half a billion pounds for the Olympic Stadium, it makes perfect sense to examine every possible sporting use [of it] in legacy mode alongside the athletics." The ECB describe using the Stratford venue as "a hypothetical situation which hasn't been presented to us", but it is one they may face should the Conservatives win a general election before the Games.

Despite a new venue being a potential competitor to Lord's, Keith Bradshaw, the MCC's chief executive, is open-minded regarding the issue of a new stadium, and expresses surprise that one has not yet been built.

"Really from the day I arrived here three years ago I've always wondered when that was going to happen. What Stuart says about it being multi-purpose – that's definitely something to look at. I think it would definitely have an impact on all the grounds, without a doubt. Especially if the stadium had a roof. If you look at the commerciality, to be absolutely certain a match will be staged on a particular day and time in terms of your corporate sponsors, and the public – that they would get their three hours of Twenty20, or whatever it is – this has to be a huge strategic advantage."

Bradshaw believes a new stadium would provide healthy competition, and help strengthen Lord's' status as cricket's spiritual home. "We look at it differently as we're the home of cricket, the hallowed turf, the tradition and history. So we would need to work a lot harder."

He says it will probably be 2012 before the planned expansion of Lord's will be ready. "We're in a residential area so there's only certain capacities we can go to. We think for us it's 37-38,000, which is more a function of the footprint of the ground. We could accommodate – for an Ashes Test, when India play England, or for Twenty20 – significantly more than 37,000."

Bradshaw also echoes Robertson and Modi when describing Twenty20's impact on the MCC's plans. "Because of the nature of Twenty20, how you service people in the ground changes. When we redevelop it'll be more akin to serving them in their seats because if you go to get a pie during T20 and miss five overs that's a fair part of the match.

"We're looking at American models like baseball where there's a lot more hawking in the stands. You can even go to the premium-price tickets where you say: 'I want this. At the 10-over mark I'd like a pint and a pie,' and it gets delivered."

The MCG's model of using drop-in pitches is also being examined. "We're experimenting at the moment – on the Nursery [where club matches take place], not the main ground. Drop-in pitches will allow more days of cricket. Instead of having to keep the ground free for days to prepare it, you can actually prepare the pitch on the Nursery and drop it in on the day, or you can develop it off site in a greenhouse and drop it in. I don't think we'd ever see it for a Test match but certainly for one-dayers and Twenty20 matches.

"We are also looking for a raised or lower platform which would actually give us two lanes around the ground as it can get very congested at the moment even now with 28,000."

How might the cricket fan feel about a new super-sized stadium that would allow greater numbers to watch at far better value than a £100 seat at Lord's?

"In Australia they have five massive stadiums which turn over a huge profit," says Katy Cooke, general manager of the Barmy Army, who follow England all over the world. "So the ECB would be much better placed to have three or four massive stadiums in the country. If Old Trafford is being redeveloped, make it huge, use the Olympic Stadium as the one in London and have one in the middle. Then they could increase the number of people who could watch."

But staging a match at an 80,000-capacity venue would be a very different experience for fans. Cooke adds: "From a Barmy Army, supporters-on-the-terrace point of view, we like the little grounds." This seems English cricket's great dichotomy. Big versus small, traditional versus modern, Lord's or the MCG. Yet might there be accommodation for an old-fashioned English compromise?

While Lord Morris, chairman of the ECB's major match group who oversee venues, offers a view that ostensibly resembles Clarke's, it can also be read as a template for a similar cricket-watching experience to that suggested by Robertson, Modi and Bradshaw. "My starting point is that while the size of stadiums is of critical importance, the first priority should be the spectator experience. People want access to the ground, proper public transport, amenities, and we want to encourage a family constituency, not just dad with a pint and pork pie. I see no reason why at a future stadium we shouldn't have a crèche and play area for the young fans of the next 15 years. So we need to change the whole atmosphere and perception of what a cricket ground should be providing."

Test match tickets have become a luxury item. To match the vision of Lord Morris with that of the need to allow more fans to see games at more affordable prices, either a purpose-built stadium or a share in London's Olympic legacy could yet offer the solution.

Once a Cricket-mad Kid, Ravi Bopara's Defining Moment Has Arrived

There is a physical education teacher in London, Philip Dawes, for whom the extraordinary deeds of Ravi Bopara are not the stuff of excited chatter. Dawes, who taught Bopara for four years at Brampton Manor School, receives breathless bulletins concerning England's No3 batsman with wisdom's slow smile.

"He was a different shape then, round and chubby with puppy fat," he recalls. "But he was a lovely lad, never a problem, and not too much has changed. Even at 13 he was very impressive, very unusual. He had these leadership qualities. He was always helping out younger boys. He was obviously well brought up, confident and very honest but respectful, not cocky.

"By the time he was 15 he was incredible. This is not a cricket school. It has a big football history. But he won the 40-over Essex Cup almost single-handedly, captaining the side and scoring a big hundred to beat Graham Gooch's old school, Norlington, in the final."

Brampton Manor did not even have a cricket team when Bopara arrived. The player recalls: "I asked if we could play cricket and the answer was yes, if I could get some guys together. So we organized our own school team.

"We didn't go out and train or anything. We didn't have the facilities. We just rocked up on the day and went out and enjoyed ourselves. I had some good talented players around me. We had a community that loved cricket. We went on to win that cup which meant a lot to some of those guys and the teacher as well."

The teacher admits he didn't have much to do with it. "Ravi ran the whole show, picking the team, settling on the batting order, leading from the front, everything," Dawes says. "I was there to umpire and help out but Ravi did it all. I have never seen a schoolboy field as well as he did. He bowled medium pace and spin and as a batsman he was exceptional. He had all the power and technique to take bad bowling apart. But what really impressed me for such a young lad was his shot selection."

Sir Robin Wales, the mayor of the borough of Newham, where most of the 2012 Olympic Games will take place, said yesterday: "From an early age at Brampton Manor it was always obvious that Ravi was destined for great things."

Bopara, however, had fixed his mind on cricket many years before he attended Brampton Manor. From the age of seven or eight he would rush home from school at three in the afternoon, change in a hurry and dash out, climbing over gates to play tapeball cricket in a small local playground.

That is the sort of intensity of desire Australia's bowlers will be up against in Cardiff next week. But they already know a little about him, for he hit 135 against them, with 17 fours and two sixes, while playing for Essex, just before the crucial Oval Test of 2005. Bopara put on 270 with Alastair Cook, who was also 20 at the time, in a match that ended in a draw.

In the same year Essex sent him to Paul Terry's academy in Perth. For Terry, Bopara's "nice sort of arrogance" and his determination to test himself against the best bowlers available made him the stand-out talent from England in seven or eight years.

Bopara became an Essex player in 2002. Even Gooch, the old workaholic, had to remind him that he was practising too hard on occasions. Bopara remembers: "I had the keys to this indoor school in Ilford, so I could go there any time. Sometimes I would go at one in the morning, along with my mate Zoheb Sharif, who was also on the Essex staff at the time.

"The only time I could find a time to myself was really late. I didn't want to get up in the morning. I'm not really a morning person. It was a case of making use of my day and training at night. It became routine. Zoheb and I used to roll out the carpet and use the bowling machine. Graham [Gooch] said it was a bit silly going at that time but I told him that was the only time when I was wide awake!"

It was in the indoor nets at Chelmsford that Bopara, at 16, had first impressed Gooch. "I just knew, even then, that I was watching a very special player," said the former England captain. "There were a lot of rough edges in those days but I just knew ... the way he carried himself, his balance, the time he had to play his shots, the way he moved, generally, in a smooth and silky way. I just knew that this was something special."

Bopara's wristy play reminded John Childs, the Essex academy director who once played for Gloucestershire, of Zaheer Abbas. "That gives you so many more scoring options," he says. "Ravi always had a natural gift. You just had this gut feeling that you were watching somebody with something more special than other people. And, of course, he's always had this immense hunger to learn."

The England management were sufficiently beguiled by his qualities to fast-track him into the England side in Sri Lanka just over 18 months ago, ahead of the more deserving Owais Shah. Bopara finished the series with three ducks in a row. But this year, against West Indies in the Caribbean and in England, he has balanced out that embarrassment by scoring three successive centuries.

"I'm glad some of this stuff has happened," he says. "I've been through a real low with the three noughts against Sri Lanka and now I've been through quite a high as well with the three hundreds. I'm glad it's happened this way. In my career it's been two extremes and I think you learn a lot from the extremes. A great deal has happened in those six matches.

"After the three noughts, immediately, within a few months, I knew I had become a better player. Just by experiencing the hurt. You take time and it hurts you for a while and then you go back into the nets and work out how you want to play. You realize you want to go out and enjoy it. I didn't enjoy those three noughts.

"They happened so quickly. I don't think I was playing badly. It's not as if I was scratching around to get to 10 or 20 or 30 and then getting out. It just went bang, bang, bang, three noughts. I didn't even get a chance to get in.

"Now I go out to enjoy myself. But I give myself the best opportunity to perform. I prepare well. I do everything I can to make sure I perform on the day and if it's my day I will perform, and if it's not it's not."

According to Bopara's England team-mate Paul Collingwood, he returned from the recent Indian Premier League tournament in South Africa, where he played for Kings XI Punjab, a different player. "Ravi came back a new man," the Durham batsman said. "Looking at the way he's holding himself at the moment, he's very calm. He just knows his game so well."

Now, as he prepares for a defining moment in his career, it is surprising to learn that this cricket-obsessed individual was oblivious to the unique importance of the Ashes until 2005.

"Before 2005 I didn't see the Ashes as such a massive series. It only hit me when we won it. Everything that came along with it was unbelievable and I thought, Jesus, this really is a big series, it really does mean a lot to everybody."

As the owner of two Rottweilers, Bopara should be able to muzzle the sledgers in the Australian side in the coming series. His ability to get away from the game – especially when you remember that he is such an obsessive about it – is impressive. He loves music too. And friends who don't know too much about cricket.

"Some of them might know I've scored a hundred but they won't really know who it's against. That works out well for me."

Ravi Bopara might soon discover that he has many more friends.

Jimmy Anderson Arrives With a Cloudburst As a Cricketer of Substance

Some cricketers saunter on stage with a drum-roll of anticipation and announce themselves with a starburst of activity. Jimmy Anderson arrived with more of a cloudburst here today.

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.