Day 33: A walk to the ground

There is something rather wonderful about approaching a cricket ground. I have been to a few around the shires, and there is always still that anticipation. Cricket, of course, is a game with a rich history. Top-flight football was invented in 1992, but the county championship has been with us forever, it even has it's own holy book.

The first county ground I visited was the old ground at Southampton; you could walk there from the city centre it was convenient, quaint and ramshackle. It was my type of ground, even if it was not my team. I had already fallen for the neighbours. During the winter of 1997, a tour of the ground was arranged for the school cricket team, and I'm not sure if that is the real reason for not warming to the new venue on the edge of the city.

There is nothing better than a stroll to the ground. Arundel being a prime example. It is quite a trek—the opportunity to walk through the historic streets and past what is still a fairy-tale castle.

The scene inside is just as good. I have seen some great players there. The stewards there have always been good there. My sister and I found ourselves autograph hunting in the members' area, stumbling across Phil Tufnell with a banana in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My autograph book came away all the better, and I was happy for the rest of the day.

Test grounds are a different story. They are cricket's cathedrals, decked with memorabilia from the distant dawn of time. Walk into the pavilion at Trent Bridge, and you find yourselves looking up mouth open, just as in any historic building. The portraits and photos of long sainted heroes, championship-winning pennants.

I have been lucky enough to be in that grand old pavilion during the off-season, and it still has that buzz of a place where history has taken place. It is the real test of what constitutes as a ground that truly a place I want to spend my time.

Hove actually is one of the grounds that will hold a special place in my memory. It is a compact little ground renowned for seagulls and deckchairs. It has modernised over the years but without losing any of that charm.

There are several reasons why the Arthur Gilligan Stand was removed. If you don't want to be cynical, that it was in disrepair is a good reason. I remember sitting on there on several occasions. The seats were situated on top of the old indoor nets, and the view was unrivalled.

That I guess is what we all want, a sense of home. Somewhere the cares of the world are far away, to be in the company of people just like you.