My first day of a Lord’s Test was in 1991, as a 13-year-old, and entry was obtained in a particularly Australian way. Sri Lanka were playing a one-off match and my Dad was carrying a Melbourne Cricket Club badge loaned to him by a friend while we went on holiday. Dressed like Australian tourists, we turned up at the gate on the final day knowing that the southern hemisphere MCC had reciprocal rights with the original. We thought we’d either get into the pavilion or turned away – if that latter happened we wouldn’t pay to get in (too expensive), and it would have to be London sightseeing with the other half of the family.

The gateman, more polite than we’d heard about, let both of us in on one tiny badge but suggested it might be best if we didn’t head to the pavilion. Maybe it was because we were wearing shorts, not the required jacket or tie, or perhaps he remembered my Dad’s behaviour when Bob Massie took 16 wickets here in 1972. We sat underneath where the media centre would be built in time for the 1999 World Cup, surrounded by cheering Sri Lankan fans who were failing to inspire their over-powered heroes.

Two things stand out: Graham Gooch looking old and dropping a catch running back towards us; and a young Sanath Jayasuriya making a half-century at No. 6. Jayasuriya, then 22, was much classier than most of his team-mates and we wondered why he was batting so low. This time I’m sitting right behind the bowler’s arm in the Nursery End space. It’s luxury compared to the previous visit, but not as noisy as the media centre is almost soundproof.