Piyush Chawla goes dizzy after dismissing Kevin Pietersen at Edgbaston © Getty Images

There are several ways to describe this series but the one that first comes to mind is ‘fun’. It didn’t the titanic quality of the 2005 Ashes, or the miraculous touches of Australia in India 2001, but it will be fondly recalled in years to come. It was fun because of the diverse skills on view – quality left-arm swing in the Tests, intoxicating spin in the one-dayers, flashes of batting brilliance – but it was mostly fun because of the intensity with which the teams went at each other. They even haggled over Jelly Beans.

It often appeared like two teams slugging it out on neutral territory. India often received more vocal support – Birmingham’s transformation to Mohali was quite something – and were never made to feel under siege. Irrespective of the result there were joyous scenes at the end of every game. The grounds were packed for the Tests, and overflowing for the one-dayers. Surprisingly it was India’s tour game at Northampton that saw the most jam-packed audience. The sight of tickets going for ₤500 on the morning of the final one-dayer at Lord’s was both staggering and heartening.

It was enjoyable because both teams entertained. There was hardly a dreary phase with both sides doing their best to make things happen. Piyush Chawla and Ramesh Powar didn’t hesitate to toss it up in the one-dayers, going for wickets despite the pressure, and Andrew Flintoff ran in as if his life depended on it.

Personally it was fun covering the tour. It wasn’t one where you had to spend half your time in airports or where you were knackered halfway through. It’s not often that India go through entire tours without major controversy but it was a feature of this series that allowed the cricket to be the focus.

There’s an easy feel about watching cricket in England, in a semi-serious, semi-relaxed state. They chat, sip, chat, sip (except at Lord’s where they mainly sip) but keep an eye on the cricket. It’s more serious than the Caribbean – where audiences tend to treat cricket as ‘just a game’ – and more easy-paced than in India and Pakistan – where it’s often far more than a game.

One moment that stands out? When Piyush Chawla bounded in at Edgbaston and, for the second match in a row, foxed Pietersen with a legbreak that didn’t spin. The ecstatic celebration that followed, Chawla running towards point with his arms outstretched, encapsulated the themes of this series: aggression, risk and a whole lot of fun.

	Brian May watches cricket at The Oval © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

There’s been a touch of Queen at The Oval. There’s been ‘Don't Stop Me Now’ played before play and other hits occasionally accompanying the fall of a wicket. It was fitting not only because today could have been Freddie Mercury’s 61st birthday, but also because Brian May, their lead guitarist, decided to pop into watch the cricket.

Sitting in the balcony at the Vauxhall End, May appeared to be thoroughly at ease at the cricket. Struggling to come to terms with being a few feet away from one of the greatest guitarists in classical rock, I tendered a nervous introduction but May’s response was almost apologetic, “Queen is big in India?”

It must feel great to sit in a stadium and have your lyrics blaring away at every opportunity. “It’s funny,” he laughs as another to play before stopping abruptly when the batsman is ready.

May is so versatile that he’s deep into physics and mathematics. His PhD thesis was titled ‘Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud’. There’s too much to ask but he is too busy with the cricket. “Time to watch,” he says.

As England left the field there was Don't Stop Me Now. Dimitri Mascarenhas has just finished the innings with five sixes in as many balls and leaves to: 'I'm burnin' through the sky yeah, 200 degrees thats why they call me Mr Fahrenheit'.

**

In other details John Major, the former British prime minister, is, expectedly, at The Oval. But songs he may have penned are not blaring from the loudspeakers.

	The lush green carpet of the rugby ground was used as a parking lot, with lines of cars filling the arena © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

This is also the home of Leeds rugby union ground. The media box is located at the football stand end simply because there was a time when people thought there was only one type of football worth talking about (rugby). Today the lush green carpet of the rugby ground was used as a parking lot, with lines of cars filling the arena. And to think that people were forbidden from walking on the grass yesterday, because “nobody is allowed on the ground”. Basically it’s the people who aren’t allowed, only cars are.

**

The John Featherstone Memorial Foundation has been voted the best cricket-ground bookstall in the country. The second-hand shop has a number of rare cricket books and is run by a couple in memory of one of Yorkshire’s best servants. All the books sold are donations and the returns are given back to schools across the county.

**

The Manchester loss suggested that the team couldn’t be inspired by watching Chak De India but football appears to have worked now. Some members of the Indian side watched Manchester United against Sunderland last evening (even Paul Collingwood, a Sunderland fan, went along) and it appears they were pumped up enough for this encounter. Bring on the football. Soccer, that is.

	Sachin who? © AFP

Last evening, at the Queens Hotel on Wellington Street, Geoff Boycott celebrated the 30th anniversary of his 100th first-class hundred. One of the invitees, a batsman who’s worn Yorkshire colours, walked to the venue. The most curious bit was how just one onlooker noticed him during his half a mile walk from Crown Plaza Hotel to Queens. Clean shaven and wearing the India blazer he should have been the most recognisable man on Wellington Street. Yet just one, yes one, passer-by greeted him during his walk. Even Sachin Tendulkar does get the odd peaceful walk after all.

**

Matthew Hoggard joins the England team at practice in Headingley. He goes through his bowling paces, getting his fitness tested ahead of the Sri Lanka series. At the end of the session he runs into Rahul Dravid near the Long room. “We missed you during the Test series,” grinned Dravid. “I missed you too, mate,” chuckled Hoggard and proceeded to have a long chat on various matters.

**

Back to Tendulkar. Walking in for a net session today, he’s faced with Kevin Pietersen zooming across in his Volkswagen Phaeton. Tendulkar gets a minor shock. Now that’s one way of running down your opponent.

	Aakash Chopra’s an avid reader and takes his writing seriously © Cricinfo Ltd

There’s no shortage of paper at Old Trafford. First there’s a notice circulated about the capacity at the ground (“When everyone is in the crowd will be 19,984”) then there’s one more about the parking (“The car park will close at 23:30). Wonder what happened to the good old days of announcements, when everyone immersed in their laptops were suddenly jolted up by a shrill tone. Finally an announcement did come: “Dinner only until 7:30 pm”. Surely Manchester had exhausted its foolscap resources.

**

Aakash Chopra, the former Indian opener, is here. He’s recently been selected in the India A squad and you can read all about how happy he is here. But there’s more to Chopra. He’s an avid reader and takes his writing, some of which you can read on this website, very seriously.

He spends his summer playing for a club in the Staffordshire League. There’s just one game a week, sometimes two, but, unlike some of the other overseas professionals, he hasn’t taken up coaching or any other part-time job. He prefers to use the time to read, write, read and write again.

He says he’s been reading much more over the last three years and is surprised with the speed he manages now. It’s not all cricket – “I got hold of this four part series on Julius Caeser and have got through them pretty quick”. He also samples fiction once in a while. As for cricket it’s “anything and everything”.

Occasionally he feels as if he’s writing too much, columns on cricket for one newspaper and two websites. He wants to maintain a daily diary during the domestic season (something like Peter Roebuck’s ‘It never rains’ or Ed Smith’s ‘On and off the field’) but hasn’t had the time to fit it into his cricket schedule. “Some day I hope to write a book but I want it to be a really good one. So I’ll wait till I’m ready.”

	India could well do with a coach like Matt Busby, whose statue still remains at Old Trafford © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Down the road from the cricketing Old Trafford is the 'real' Old Trafford - the 'Theatre of Dreams'. Home to Manchester United, OT is an imposing, modern structure. The front view gives an impression of a gigantic mall – the shiny glass not really serving as an ideal backdrop to the legendary Matt Busby – but the awe-inspiring effect very much intact.

Busby's mission, as coach of the side from 1945 to 1969, would have involved building a world-beating side but little would he have imagined the marketing behemoth that the club has become. The souvenir shop is a vast sea of red, with every daily item morphed into Man U memorabilia. Notebooks, coffee mugs, towels, pens … you name it. The footballers no doubt keep the club going but the marketing men must come close behind.

**

India's fielding coach Robin Singh makes a spectacle of himself while speaking to the media. Hardly had anyone asked a provoking question when he flares up: "The media has been writing bad things about our fielding, not as if I read the reports but they are very negative." OK Robin, we're glad you are not affected by the media. But he doesn't stop there. "It's partly because of the media that the team is fielding badly. You put so much pressure on them."

Some people just love putting their foot in their mouth.

	How high and long can the ball hang in the air before reaching the batsmen? © Getty Images

It's an age where speed-guns are creaking, clocking bowling speeds at 80 and 90 mph with bowlers constantly trying to break the 100-mph barrier. What we need now, especially with Ramesh Powar involved, is a bowler who cracks the 30 mph mark. Powar delights with his ability to constantly slow the pace. At Edgbaston he began in the 50s before gradually, clinically settling in the mid 40s. Suddenly he lobbed in one at 42 mph and Ian Bell, mouth wide open, ran the risk of yawning before the ball arrived.

Batsmen talk about playing fast bowlers on instinct, not having the time to make up their minds in a split second. Here they're faced with the reverse dilemma: having too much time to decide which shot to pull out. The best part is Powar occasionally slips in the under-cutter, the straight one bowled at 55mph. You know it's slow but how slow makes the biggest difference. Batsmen talk of having trouble with increments. The difference between 75 and 80mph is supposed to be less than between 85 and 86. As you go higher the minimal increase matters. Surely one can use the reverse logic and apply it to Powar: the difference between 43 and 42, that one extra moment could ruin all well-thought out plans.

Now we know a bowler can get as fast as 100 mph but how slow can he go? What is the limiting point in international cricket? How high and long can the ball hang in the air before reaching the batsmen? Watch the speed gun closely. We could be entering uncharted territory.

	Percy Jeeves died at the age of 28 during the First World War © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Several illustrious names, including the peerless Brian Lara, have turned out for Warwickshire but one, a promising allrounder who couldn't fulfil his potential, requires most attention. Born in Yorkshire in 1888, Percy Jeeves couldn't attract much attention and decided to shift to these parts. He turned out for Warwickshire against the Australians and South Africans in 1912 and was tipped as a fine prospect by PF Warner, that shrewd judge of talent. He had a fine couple of seasons – in 1913 and 1914 – but his career, and life, came to a halt during the First World War.

He died in 1916 at the tender age of 28. He was immortalised the same year, though, when PG Woodhouse named his butler Jeeves, one of the most popular literary characters down the years. Jeeves the cricketer might have died young but his name happily lives on in public memory.

**

It's normally easy to gauge the way the game's moving while standing outside a cricket ground. A raucous atmosphere equates to home side up, a slightly muted one means visiting side going strong. Today it was the opposite. India were the home team at the ground, one where England are used to getting tremendous support.

This was the same ground where, two years back, the Aussies didn't know what had hit them. Such is the backing England usually get here. Every few feet one sighted pockets of blue, the tricolour was waved generously and Hindi chants were the most audible.

The Eric Hollies stand, normally inhabited by partisan English supporters, was invaded by a sea of blue. In fact there was a ruckus about an hour after the start of the game in that very area, when one spectator waved a Pakistan flag. So loud was the protest that he quickly changed his mind.

	Rashid Patel prides himself as the man who first spotted Zaheer Khan © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

The former Indian left-arm seamer Rashid Patel is here. Not many know him but some of you would have seen a photograph of an enraged Rashid, armed with a stump and running after Raman Lamba during a Duleep Trophy match at Jamshedpur in the 1990-91 season. Rashid played a solitary Test and another solitary one-dayer for India in 1988 after which a leg injury cut his career short.

“Forget about Lamba yaar but do you know who first spotted Zaheer Khan?” Sorry Rashid but it must have been some nurse in the hospital where he was born no? “Arrey bhai. I went to Madras in January 1999. India were playing Pakistan in that famous Test. I went to the MRF Pace Foundation and saw this young boy.

“He was so good that I went to the ground and told India’s then coach Aunshuman Gaekwad, ‘Watch this boy. He’s going to be great.’ Gaekwad then had a look a few days later and recommended him to play for Baroda. My career was almost over then. So there was a direct left-arm replacement for me.”

And in case you didn’t know, Rashid hails from Bharuch and was born in the village adjacent to Ikhar, Munaf Patel’s hometown. He currently plays club cricket in England and is happy that fast bowlers are better looked after these days. “When I played nobody knew how to handle fast bowlers. And we all suffered from so many injures that people didn’t know how to rectify. At least now there is proper medical guidance.”

Did he watch the Nottingham Test when Zaheer won India the match? “Opened them up yaar, what a spell.” Thanks Rashid. We owe you one.

****

Mahendra Singh Dhoni jokes about an Indian team filled with wicketkeepers. “Me and Karthik are just two. Rahul has kept before, Robin started off as a keeper. Viru can keep, Gambhir also keeps. Gradually my aim is to get a team filled with wicketkeepers. Each of us can take the gloves for 10 overs each then.”

	Hundred no.42 is proving elusive for Sachin Tendulkar © Getty Images

Sachin Tendulkar smiled. Now that's not a codeword for a nuclear explosion but it was how Tendulkar reacted to an umpiring decision when he was one short of his 42nd one-day hundred. What an injustice, cried millions of fans across the world. How can such a great batsman fall in the 90s in three out of five one-day innings? And how does one explain two 99s in two months?

Hang on. According to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything. Surely two months isn't long enough for solving such a mighty problem. It shows that the step from 0 to 41 is surely demanding but the one from 41 to 42 is gigantic. It's a leap that our Sachin needs to take. Douglas Adams obviously saw it coming several decades earlier but when it does arrive, it deserves one heck of a celebration.

**

Rahul Dravid has made a few faux pas on this tour and continued his fine form in yesterday’s press conference as well. He's confused Anil Kumble for Harbhajan Singh and Tendulkar for Sourav Ganguly earlier but last evening he mixed up Southampton with Portsmouth. Portsmouth! Now where did that come from? It left the scribes a bit confused but one English journalist, from Portsmouth, forgave him instantly: "Dravid just doesn't stop rising in my estimation."

	Frank Duckworth, a retired mathematical physicist cum arm-chair cricket fan © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Frank Duckworth was first introduced to cricket as an eight-year old in 1948, when the Australian Invincibles toured this country. It was then that he learnt that ‘Australia’ was a dirty word and Don Bradman, in particular, was someone you needed to get out. A Gloucestershire local, Duckworth has been an “arm-chair cricket fan” ever since.

Duckworth, one half of the Duckworth-Lewis calculation that’s used to revise targets, is all jolly. Surely can’t be so happy with the skies so clear and the sun shining bright? Doesn’t he want rain, so that his calculation can come into play? “Floodlight failure, my lad,” he chuckles. “There have been 15 cases of the method coming into play because of floodlight failure and three cases due to crowd riots. In fact there have been three matches in Derbyshire when sun has stopped play. They rarely get the sun out there but when it does come out, it causes some sort of reflection while it’s setting and affects the batsmen.”

Duckworth likes to call himself a “retired mathematical physicist”. The World Cup semi-final of 1992, when South Africa first needed 22 off one ball, prompted him to devise a new method. Duckworth explains the origins of the system but moves on to talking about a few matches.

“The D/L method was first used on January 1 1997, in a one-dayer between Zimbabwe and England at Harare. Zimbabwe scored 200 and it rained in the interval. Eight overs needed to be deducted. If we’d just used the average run-rate method, 168 would have been the target. But D/L said 185 off 42. Eng started very well and collapsed, falling short by seven runs. The press actually blamed us for England losing. I just said, ‘England have discovered a new method to lose’.”

He vividly recalls the South Africa-Sri Lanka clash in the 2003 World Cup, a game when South Africa tied without knowing what exactly was needed. “Shaun Pollock hadn’t educated his people properly. They should have known exactly what was needed. Sri Lanka’s captain [Sanath] Jayasuriya knew it, very well indeed. There was a wonderful cartoon the next day - two disgruntled supporters holding a hangman noose with effigies of Duckworth and Lewis. I was on a flight from Australia at that time and landed to all these messages.”

But the one match where he was extremely nervous was the World Cup final of 2003, when India, for a brief while, seemed to have found an escape route. “Before 2003 the rule had a limitation when it came to high-scoring matches. It was only because all grounds didn’t have computers to run the complex program. Australia made 359 and after 23 overs there was a threat of rain. And if D/L had come in India were just four runs behind the par score. Rain then and India could have had a most undeserved win. I was listening to it on radio and was extremely nervous. It prompted us to tinker with the method and request the ICC to ensure computers at all games.”

**
Two spectators in Stand A (near the pavilion) argue about the merits of this ground. "You need to wait all day long for a beer," says one. "This ground should never be allowed to host a 50-over match. Maybe Twenty20 at the most." The other disagrees. "I've never sat at a ground with such a good view, so close to the action." Well ... at the ground for the cricket or for the beer? The elementary question. Answers on a postcard, please.

	The statue outside India's team hotel in Bristol © Cricinfo Ltd

So ancient and gothic are certain parts of Bristol that you're transported to another age. Whether it's the Bristol University or the Cathedral Church, formed as early as 1150, in the College Green area the historic touch is ever-present.

Just outside the Marriott Royal, the hotel where the team is staying, is a life-size statue of Raja Ram Mohun Roy (or Rajah Rammohun Roy to the British). Roy, the founder of the Brahmo Samaj, one of the first Indian socio-religious reform movements, died in Stapleton, a village at the north east of Bristol. The plaque at the bottom of the statue describes him thus: "Philosopher, reformer, patriot, scholar. A founding father of Indian renaissance."

**

WG Grace and Wally Hammond will no doubt go down as two of Gloucestershire's biggest legends but Jack Russell mustn't be forgotten. Not so much for his cricketing skills, of which he had plenty, but for his quirkiness. It's said he would survive entire tours on a diet of baked beans. He also insisted on eating Weetabix only when soaked in the milk for precisely 12 minutes.

**

Incidentally this is the first city where we're coming across so many lady taxi drivers.

**

When Sourav Ganguly decides to speak to the media, there's obviously a frenzy to get a byte here, a nibble there. One British television reporter, though, had other ideas. When the Indian media contingent were hovering over Ganguly, harrying him for a couple of minutes each, the journalist from BBC One stood a few feet away, told his camera-person to get the media-interest in the background and began: "Here's how popular Sourav Ganguly is in India." Works just fine.

At the start of play, most of the spectators took a while to enter the ground. They were packed in outside but “security measures” meant they all needed to be checked before getting in. At the start of the second innings, though, a group of highly-enthusiastic streakers ran amok in the West Stand and it took a while for the security men to drive them out. How inefficient they’d been. They took so long and couldn’t spot the streakers in the pack.

**

There are rumours that the first one-dayer at the Rose Bowl might get some coverage in the Indian papers tomorrow. The rest of the pages are set to be filled by developments related to the Indian Cricket League (ICL). England, though, appears largely unaware of all these earth-shattering events. One of the scribes saw the name Ali Murtaza in the list and said, ‘Some Bangladeshis signed up as well?’ Well, actually our dear Mashrafe hasn’t signed up – not as yet, at least – but Ali, the young Uttar Pradesh batsman. Such confusion.

**
Having gone missing all day, the sun came out at around 7:10 this evening. Immediately Gautam Gambhir nicked to the wicketkeeper. It was James Anderson’s 100th one-day wicket. The sun won’t be mentioned in the scorecard but it sure deserves credit.

	Paul Collingwood left the media puzzled with his thoughts on swing © Getty Images

Paul Collingwood is someone you'd call a no-nonsense cricketer. Grinding out runs, nudging the gaps, running the singles hard, fielding energetically and bowling honest spells. Which is why it was startling when he had the media in a shock today. "Hopefully the ball won’t swing as much in the one-dayers," he said. "During the Tests what they did do well was swing the ball both ways. The white ball swings generally in one direction. Hopefully it doesn’t swing both ways.”

Both Angus Fraser and Derek Pringle, former England medium-pacers, were slightly bemused. So what was Colly talking about? Maybe he meant the white ball doesn't reverse-swing. Maybe he was talking about the left-armer's indipper to the right-handed batsmen. Maybe Allan Donald had revealed a dark art.

**
Just as Rahul Dravid revealed that Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly will be opening the batting, the walls of the Gordon Greenidge suite, where the press conference was held, trembled in appreciation. Hampshire is a county that's seen one of the greatest opening acts in history - Greenidge and Barry Richards - and watching two modern masters take first strike will no doubt bring back fond memories. England, meanwhile, are planning a makeshift combination. The walls, no doubt, quivered with disgust.

	A caricature on Colin Milburn's debut © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

John Daly is 41 years old, weighs 100 kgs, likes his drink, puffs away at his cigarettes and makes his living playing golf. Tiger Woods, the great golfer who he competes against, won the USPGA tournament recently and urged all golfers to work out, a fact that helped him combat the heat during the tournament. Daly would have none of it. “"I tried but every time I worked out I threw up and I thought to myself that you can get drunk and throw up, so it's just not for me.”

It’s the sort of spirit you see in Northamptonshire, once home to one of the heaviest weights in cricket, Colin Milburn. Wisden informs us that he normally “hovered around the 18 stone mark” and that he was the largest man to play first-class cricket in England since Warwick Armstrong in 1921. He was also, and this is the most important part, a wonderfully natural player who might have had a glorious international career if not for the fateful car-crash that allowed him only nine Tests.

Walk into the Colin Milburn room here in Northampton and you get pictures, caricatures and memorabilia celebrating one of their greatest batsmen. There’s a hilarious spoof on his Test debut, the Manchester Test against West Indies in 1966. Milburn made a duck on debut and the illustration, by Roy Ullyett in 1969, takes a lighter look at the sequence of events.

“Ah well, it was a fantastic day for Colin Cowdrey. He walked alongside Colin Milburn. And nobody in the crowd could see him.

Century-maker Hunte was dropped by Higgs when only 7. Higgs sportingly states Milburn did not blot the vision of the ball.

Mr Milburn then attempted to catch Hunte with a spectacular dive. Having witnessed this performance I trust Americans will forgive me if I’m not impressed by a mere spacecraft landing on the moon.”

So then it was most fitting that Ramesh Powar, rotund and happy, had a good day in the field. He even insisted on wearing his shades when the skies were overcast. He’s probably the largest international cricketer at the moment but he’s shown that there remains a place for the dying breed.

	"Majid Haq runs a takeaway shop. In fact during one of his games, his father was ill, his uncle wasn’t in town and the only other person who could man the shop was in jail. Welcome to Glasgow." © Getty Images

This is the greatest country in the world. Not because of the kilt, not because of the Glasgow Celtic Football Club, not because of King Bruce’s legacy but simply because they deep fry Mars bars. Chip shops around Glasgow fry the chocolate bar, using it as a batter for puddings, sausages and haggis, a typical Scottish delicacy. The recipe is quite simple. Chill, but do not freeze, the Mars bar by leaving it in a fridge, or freezer, for a short while. Mix the milk, flour and egg in a bowl. Whisk together to create a creamy batter. Heat the oil. Coat the Mars bar completely in batter. Lower into hot oil and fry until batter is golden brown. Serve. Remember, no crackles, no Kit-Kat, no Cadbury. Only Mars bars please.

In terms of priority, though, football is way higher than Mars bars. Last evening the city suddenly turned sleepy. No taxis in sight, hardly any traffic and rows and rows of cars parked on the sideways. After an hour of aimless wandering we are told that the city’s dead state is a weekly phenomenon. “Celtic are playin’ boy,” says what appears to be the only active taxi driver in Glasgow. “Come on, quick. They’re trailin’ by 1.’ We’re told we’re in luck. How on earth? “If Celtic wa playin’ Rangers, you’re goners’.

Celtic v Rangers, according to people of the greatest city, is the greatest rivalry in the greatest sport. So, if you haven’t guessed already, cricket doesn’t matter that much. Scotland’s captain, Ryan Watson, works as a business development officer for Caledonian Brewery. He arrived late for the pre-match press conference yesterday and light-heartedly said, “I was held up selling beer.”

Wicketkeeper Colin Smith is a policeman while Majid Haq, the offspinner, runs a family takeaway shop. In fact during one of his games, his father was ill, his uncle wasn’t in town and the only other person who could man the shop was in jail. Surely, this is the greatest city in the world.

**

Announcement of the day: the partnership between Kyle McCallum and Gavin Hamilton is the highest partnership on this ground since 1959.

Considering this is the first international match here, it was the highest partnership in any form of cricket. Records, as they always say, are meant to be broken.

**

A elderly English journalist spent a fair share of the morning trying to find out the temperature. First he approached the local media officer, then the scorer, then a few others. Nobody had a clue. Finally he logged on to the internet and learnt it was 15 degrees centigrade. “Before the internet age we’d say, ‘Fairly chilly, occasionally warm’. Now we need numbers’.”

Sunny skies and a soothing breeze welcome the Indians during their practice session at the Clydesdale Cricket Club © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

It's a bank holiday back home but the cricket team, currently in Glasgow, had a relaxed practice session in the picturesque Clydesdale Cricket Club. The rains that had come down over the last few days kept away and the team were greeted by sunny skies and a soothing breeze. There were Independence Day greetings all around, with Chandu Borde, the manager of the side and the only one here who actually witnessed the moment 60 years ago, leading the way. "How can I forget that day," he beamed when asked about India's tryst with destiny. "I was 13 years old and didn't understand what they were talking. We all felt we were independent as kids so it was confusing to hear that there was an Independence Day." A fatherly chuckle. "But yes, I carried an Indian flag all day and ran around the streets of Pune. I knew it was a big moment but didn't know why."

Borde has been the lucky charm for the Indian team over the years. "After my playing days I have been with the team in different capacities. But never have they lost. The luck continues."



**

Clydesdale is the oldest surviving sports club in Glasgow, formed as early as 1848. The ground was inaugurated in 1902, Mike Stanger, the chairman of the club, informs us. Nestled in a scenic part of Pollockshields, the club is estimated to hold around 2000 people and is one among several charming cricket venues one sees around the British Isles. More on this over the next couple of days.

**

	Back at The Oval...but as a spectator © Siddartha Vaidyanathan

Dean Headley, the former England fast bowler, was at The Oval today. He misses being there, but only like everyone else. "I don't think of it negatively, as in I wish I was still playing. I think of it positively, like anyone else in the ground and say, 'I wish I was still playing'.There's a fine difference, if you know what I'm saying." Yes, Dean, of course we understand.

* * *

A small round of applause went up around 4.45. It wasn't for a batsman, bowler or fielder. It wasn't even for a landmark. It was because the innings extras had just reached 50. 33 byes, 13 leg-byes, 2 wides and six no-balls. It was the seventh 50-plus score in the innings and The Oval crowd didn't miss clapping for it.

* * *

A trumpeter provided royal entertainment for the crowd towards the end of the Indian innings. Bugling numbers like "Escape to Victory" and "Rocky" he tried to inspire England for one last burst. It seemed to inspire India's last pair instead: Sreesanth cracking three fours in a row and Kumble reaching his hundred.

* * *

Shane Warne and Anil Kumble. Both quality legspinners but neither, until today, had a century. Warne went through 145 Tests without a hundred (his highest score was 99 at Perth). "Warnie came really close. That thought was definitely there when I was batting that I should not slog and get out on 99," said a cheery Kumble at the end of the day. Now he has 10 in a match and a hundred. Surely we can forgive him for not spinning the ball (actually he does that too...but anyway).

	'Who would have thought Shane Warne, the undoubted star for Australia, will drop the Ashes? I don’t think there’s been a stronger irony' © Getty Images

Talking cricket is sometimes as enjoyable as watching it. Nothing like doing both. This diary writer spent an hour or so next to David Frith, the veteran cricket historian, trying to take in bits of his encyclopaedic knowledge. Frith, whose cricket-watching career spans more than 60 years, is one for detail and his recounting of minor anecdotes makes for riveting discussion.

Memories of The Oval flood back. Not only has he seen several Tests at this venue, a scene for grand theatre down the years, but also spoken to legends who took part in many. There’s Gilbert Jessop’s Test in 1902 – “probably the greatest Test of all time” – Australia amassing 701 in 1934 – “Bradman and Ponsford, ouch” – Bradman’s last Test in 1948 and many, many more.

“I spoke to Wilfred Rhodes about 1902 and the whole story about him and George Hirst coming together with 15 needed,” he says, “Folklore has it that they said, ‘We’ll get ‘em in singles’. Rhodes says they said nothing of the sort. He also added with a wry smile, ‘We might have run a few of ‘em’.”

Did the Oval crowd know it was Bradman’s last innings in 1948? “That they might have, because England were bowled out for 52 and Australia were 117 for no loss when Bradman came in. So it was unlikely he was going to bat again. But I don’t think anyone in the crowd would have known he needed four more for an average of 100. Statistics weren’t that big then. Neither were they called the Invincibles on that tour. That’s all retrospective coinage.”

Rahul Dravid has just been bowled and The Oval stands up to salute Sachin Tendulkar. “Ah here he is for his final Test in England. That’s my Bradman,” Frith smiles. “Second ball duck? Where’s Hollies?” Another chuckle. “But Bradman wouldn’t have walked in the same way. The dressing rooms were further to the left.” He points towards the pavilion, before getting back to more Oval talk.

What of 1953, one of the most famous victories in English cricket history? “That Ashes win was essential, especially for a country that was so low after the war. But you must remember, England benefited from some umpiring in the previous Tests. Frank Chester was on the wane and he didn’t give a run-out decision when the batsman was four feet out of the crease. Now that changed the series.”

Was he there at 1971 when India triumphed? “Of course, I remember Abid Ali being lifted and all that. But Chandra was such a master. I remember facing him in Madras (well after his playing days) and he was getting the tennis ball to bounce way over my head. He wasn’t spinning it that day, just so much bounce.”

Any choices for his greatest Oval innings? “There are so many but Basil D’Oliveira’s 158 in the 1968 Ashes Test must be a big contender. I also remember that match because it was one of the last to be played on an uncovered pitch. Australia had 352 to chase but suddenly it all got damp and Derek Underwood skewered them with seven.”

And, finally, the best game he’s seen here? “[Ashes] 2005. Nothing makes me believe otherwise. The context, the mood, the game … and most importantly the irony. Who would have thought Shane Warne, the undoubted star for Australia, will drop the Ashes? I don’t think there’s been a stronger irony.”

	Gordon Rorke's action led to a review of no-ball laws © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Walking out of the Oval station, on the northern line of the London Underground, one sees different cricketing paintings on the wall, representing batting styles, bowling actions and fielding postures. The bowling illustration is most interesting.

Gordon Rorke played just four Tests for Australia, all in 1959, but had an unmistakable action. Strangely he never played a Test in England, leave alone The Oval, but still finds his action portrayed on the wall of a famous station. In fact Rorke’s only Tests were in Australia and India, in a career which was dogged with controversy over chucking and ‘drag’.

Exploiting the laws at the time, he dragged his back foot so successfully that he could deliver the ball with his front foot several feet over the bowling crease. In fact his ability to do this so successfully led to a review of the no-ball laws. He had a fairly successful start to his career, bagging eight wickets in his first two games against England in 1958-59, before a barren couple of Tests in India cost him his place.

He left from India early, not coming to terms with the country and losing weight at an alarming rate. He was never the same bowler again. His action, though, won’t be forgotten in a hurry.

**

"Kevin Pietersen is unwell and will miss England's practice today." Andrew Walpole, England's media manager, preferred to be as economical with his information as possible at the start of the press conference today. Unwell with what? How serious? Was it an infection? Which part of the body was affected? Just a shrug of the shoulders. It later emerged that Pietersen had "mild temperature". This is England's best batsman we're talking about, the superstar of the future, the one whose actions the media cares about. And here is the England media manager underplaying it as if it was an afterthought. Surely a masterplan to put India off the hook.

**

	Mansoor Amjad (left) and Adnan Akmal, brother of Pakistan cricketer Kamran Akmal, are playing club cricket in England © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

I first met Adnan Akmal in Lahore. A most surreal sequence of events led to the two of us waiting for the same lift at Best Western Hotel. He was there to meet Mansoor Amjad, I was on my way to my room. Incidentally it was the coldest day in Lahore's history. We met once more a few days later, a delightful Eid evening, when he invited a couple of us home and spoilt us with gulab jamoons. We also got a chance to meet his elder brother Kamran, Pakistan's first-choice wicketkeeper.

Both times Adnan simply materialised. No intimation, just a pleasant jolt. Following the bizarre introduction, I tried calling him a few times. Voicemail. Once I returned to India, I tried to keep in touch. Number not in use. You couldn't enter Adnan's life, he would choose when to waft into yours.

Which is exactly what he did at Leicester. At the end of India's tour game against Sri Lanka A at Grace Road, after the post-match press conference in the pavilion, he emerged. Coincidentally he was again here to meet Mansoor, one of Leicestershire's overseas signings this year. This time, unlike at Lahore where both of us were all wrapped up, it was the hottest day of the English summer. As if meeting him wasn't shocking enough, he began conversation as if there was never a break. "Hello ji, kaise hai? Enjoying England? I thought you may be here. I'm staying here. Playing in Nottingham …"

He's currently playing for a club in Nottingham in the leagues of England. It's his first time here and he's funded the trip on his own. While one brother prepares for the Twenty20 World Cup in South Africa, the other does the hard yards in England. Both are competing for the same wicketkeeping slot. Family dinners must be interesting.

His club requires him to play just one match a week. Practice on Thursday, match on Saturday. Rest of the week is light. Occasionally he takes part in charity matches, mostly he's working on his fitness, otherwise he's free. "I have all the time in the world ji, I can do anything. It's a learning experience for me. This is only my first season, it won't be easy. But it will help me get some exposure. I haven't come till now but one has to start somewhere."

He chatters on tirelessly, shifting topics seamlessly. There's mention of Lahori restaurants, English weather, wicketkeeping techniques and Pakistani pitches. He fills in so much information in one sentence that it's difficult to keep up. Two hours later, when he's still in full flow, we part ways. Contact numbers are exchanged but it won't matter. Someday when least expected, he'll arrive.

As talk of Zaheer Khan and jelly-gate slowly dies down, one mustn't forget The Oval circa 1994. Thirteen years ago Devon Malcolm was struck on the helmet while batting against South Africa. His badge came off when he missed a Fanie de Villiers bouncer and, when the South Africans laughed, he shot back: "You guys are history". Enraged, he destroyed them with a spell of 9 for 57 and helped England level the series. India's bowlers beware. Don't anger Anderson, Tremlett or Sidebottom in this Test. Don't become history; create it.

It's an Asian carnival at Grace Road, what with Leicester having such a large population of both Indians and Sri Lankans. A number of fans carried along trumpets, creating one heck of a noise through the day. One journalist, irritated with the extent of the noise, shouted out: "This is not India or Sri Lanka, behave as if you're in England."

**

The fire-prevention authorities are here. Making the most of a packed house, they're giving out smoke detectors and pamphlets, stressing the importance of guarding against fire. The brochures are in three different languages – English, Urdu and Gujarati – and have been made specifically for Asian week. Around five feet away, a couple of young men light their cigarettes. Thankfully the alarms aren't on.

**

Sourav Ganguly, meanwhile, is calmly jogging around the ground warding off fans seeking autographs. One fan, speaking on her mobile phone, is keen that he speaks to someone at the other end of the line. Ganguly doesn't stop the first time but consents to answer the phone when requested again.

**

Some intensive wicketkeeping practice for Mahendra Singh Dhoni before the start of the game. Robin Singh, India's fielding coach, and Greg King, their fitness trainer, conduct drills to improve Dhoni's collection of throws. After a session lasting more than an hour, where he caught most and missed a few, Dhoni is knackered. Any guesses why he lasted just two balls while batting? Surely, no connection between the two.

	Sukhvir Singh has a bowl at his heroes © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

India's fielding coach Robin Singh got angry while speaking to the press today. He isn't the first one to do so, neither will he be the last. The main reason why cricketers get put off is because there are so many negative questions asked in positive times. Robin's argument might run thus: we've thumped England in a Test after being given no chance and here I am answering questions about our shoddiness in the field. The press may respond: we completely understand the scale of the achievement, we've been celebrating your victory days on end, the win was great but now we need a new story. Quite a poser.

**

Sukhvir Singh, a promising pace bowler who recently won the Cricket Star reality show in India, is currently in Leicester. He's part of the second XI team at the county and bowled to the Indians at the nets today. Such distances people travel to bowl at their heroes!

**

Happened to pick up Richard Beard's How to beat the Australians, a hilarious travelogue cum sports biog on a journey through Australia. This one paragraph explains everything:

" … it's impossible for anyone interested in sport to ignore the way Australia's supremacy has crept well beyond the boundaries of cricket. The Australian Lleyton Hewitt is and will always be a Wimbledon champion, whereas Tim Henman will always have his family. Australia have triumphed in two Rugby World Cups, consecutive cricket World Cups [the book was written in 2006, so it missed their hat-trick of victories], and the Davis Cup. In 1990s, they were winners in twelve team and 21 individual sports, a period we in England spent waiting for the nation to be saved by Graeme Hick."

	Basher Hassan © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

The spirit of Garry Sobers lingers on at Trent Bridge but he has someone to thank for his stint at Nottinghamshire.

It was in 1968 that Basher Hassan, a talented batsman from Kenya, had qualified to play for Notts, only to hear that he would have to make way for Sobers. Born in Nairobi, Basher impressed members of an England touring team in 1963. After monitoring his progress for two years, members of Notts CC decided to sign him as an overseas player but told him to first qualify, after playing in the leagues.

"Garry was grateful to me when I had to pull out of county cricket," he Basher recalled. "He never forgot that and we became good friends. Later I started managing his business affairs and turned into his agent."

How was it playing in the same team as Garry? "There were times when he played brilliantly without sleeping the previous night. He used to have six bats in the dressing room. When he went out to resume his innings after a break he would just pick any of them and go out to bat. They all weighed the same."

His 22-year stint with Notts, when he amassed in excess of 14,000 runs, ended in 1985. He vividly recalls his final day of first-class cricket. "They asked me to go on to the field as substitute during the Ashes Test match here in 1985. Bernard Thomas, the England team physio urged me to announce my retirement saying, 'Basher, this is the moment. I'll tell the press.' So when we came back to the pavilion I got a standing ovation. That was it."

	Ashley Giles doesn't get the irony © Getty Images

You know it's time somebody presented Ashley Giles with a dictionary when he stomps around the media centre demanding to know meanings of words like temerity and irony. The sequence of events was roughly in this order: Giles, in an interview during this Test, talks about Tendulkar's declining powers, Tendulkar compiles 91 before being wrongly adjudged lbw, David Hopps, a cricket writer with the Guardian newspaper, writes a piece on Tendulkar-mania, and slips in a line that reads, " … Ashley Giles, who had the temerity at the weekend to remark that Tendulkar's batting prowess had waned a little ...."

Giles obviously didn't get the irony. In fact, when Hopps tried to explain the context, he shot back: "What is irony?” His main contention was "temerity", which he felt was too extreme a word. A serious argument soon turned ugly: Giles demanded an explanation, Hopps told him to stop being "paranoid", delightful verbals bounced off the walls before Hopps thought it best to take a walk around the ground to cool off.

Two bits of background information are vital, the first more so than the second. Hopps coined the term "wheelie bin"; he also ghosted Giles's column during the 2005 Ashes series. But Giles' inability to get the humour, his refusal to understand where Hopps was coming from, had several members of the press corps cracking up.

**

	Tim Robinson, the former England opener, looks happy with his new profession, that of an umpire at the first-class level © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

It’s been an eventful few weeks for umpires during this series. At Lord’s they were too busy sending batsmen back; at Trent Bridge they’ve generously allowed batsmen some leeway until today, when they reverted to type. Former England opener Tim Robinson, who’s currently a first-class umpire, can’t get enough of the action.

Robinson’s debut was in the Bombay Test of 1984-85, a match remembered as much for Laxman Sivaramakrishnan’s googlies as the contentious umpiring decisions. In fact Robinson’s dismissal in the second innings, lbw to Kapil Dev, was one of the talking points of the match. He recalls being angry at the time but empathises with the umpire now that he's one himself.

Just a little while before this diary landed up on Robinson's lap, umpire Simon Taufel has sent back Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly, both to questionable decisions. Robinson, who’s aspiring to be included in the ICC panel, twitches when asked about them. Here he is working his way onto the Elite Panel, and here are these spectators cursing the umpires out in the middle.

Does he think he can cope with the pressures? “The advantage I have is that I was an opener who spent a lot of time in the middle as a batsman,” he says. “I didn’t want to smash it to all parts and it was more a case of occupying the crease for long periods. I had the gift of being able to concentrate for long periods of time. Obviously as an umpire that is a similar sort of requirement.”

And spend time in the middle, he well could. Indian viewers will remember Robinson’s beaver-like 160 at Delhi, an innings spanning eight-and-a-half-hours that set the stage for England’s series-levelling win. His 74 at Madras (a mini-epic which consumed close to four hours) and 96 at Calcutta (a painstaking six-hour effort) paved the way for a series triumph, one which no England side has managed since.

“In the first Test, Siva was simply unplayable,” he recalls. “I’d never seen anything like that. We couldn’t read him at all and it needed some hard work at the nets. More than anything it was confidence. In the second Test I got the better for him but it was a great challenge. I didn’t know we were the last English side to win there! We must have been a good side then.”

Which Indian player does he remember most from that series? “Oh surely Azza,” he says with a smile, “he got those three hundreds on the trot and he was so, so wristy.” Just as he utters those words, VVS Laxman, another wristy master who is often compared to Azhar, whips one past midwicket for four. “Just like that.”

	Mike Hutton, who is a SKY Sports cameraman, watches the game from 200 feet above ground level © Siddhartha Vaiyanathan

Mike Hutton comes to the cricket every day but ends up sitting alone. He’s only a “moderate” cricket fan, whose “main sport” is tennis, but he has a job to do and that requires him to come to cricket grounds. He needs to cover himself more than the others – today he was clothed in four layers of shirts and three layers of trousers – to combat the weather.

Hutton, who is a SKY Sports cameraman, watches the game from 200 feet above ground level, capturing the moments of a Test for television. It’s a view that’s used to show fielding positions and close run-out calls. Hutton can also view all the replays the other cameras have captured at a click of a button.

Hutton, 55, has been doing the job for a number of years now but he continues to enjoy every moment of it. “It’s the best seat in the house because I feel very much part of the action.” Any disadvantages? “It’s a bit cold up there, and you’re very much alone.”

Trent Bridge is one of his favourite grounds. “It’s a great view out there - Nottingham is beautiful with the hills, river Trent and the airport,” he says cheerily looking skywards. The ground authorities at Lord’s don’t allow cranes, which means Hutton hasn’t had an aerial view there, but thinks it might be an experience to cherish.

The lunch break is nearing its end and Hutton, almost like a mountaineer, sets off on his long climb once again.

	David's gamble at the toss paid off © Getty Images

It's 17 years since Graham Gooch tortured India with the 333 at Lord's. It's also 17 years since Mohammad Azharuddin stuck England in at Lord's in what went down as a shocker. Gooch, though, is more sympathetic: "The toss is always difficult. You had a situation today in Trent Bridge where either captain might have thought that I am happy to lose the toss and let the other guy make the decision. It was difficult to know what to do. Normally, you bat first at Lord’s because the wicket is at its slowest on the first day.

"The ball will swing around in the first session of any Test match. It was a brave decision by Azharuddin to bowl first – not one which was met with absolute popularity from coach Bishan Bedi. He told me that he agreed with Azharuddin at the nets that he was going to bat first. But obviously, he changed his mind on the walk across the ground to the pavilion.

The captain has to make his own decision. The thing about being captain is that you get to call the show; get to do things you want to. At the end of the day, you have to go with your gut. It is about instinct. Sometimes there are a lot of good cases for doing things. You have to do what you’re happy with."

Luckily for Dravid history chose not to repeat itself. He won the toss, fielded first and, unlike Azhar, ended up smiling at the end of the day.

**

India’s media manager, Rocky Rufus, isn’t going to win any popularity contest in the near future. Today he was in the eye of the storm during VVS Laxman’s press conference, by the end of which he was at the receiving end of a severe hollering. The facts were this: the entire media contingent were quite bemused at the sight of Laxman at the press conference, they asked six or seven questions before one Indian journalist asked a question in Hindi.

At that point a number of English scribes walked up, picked up their dictaphones and left the room. Rufus didn’t seem to have any problems with that and even went to the extent of cutting short the press conference at that point. All hell broke loose then but who’s fault is all this? English journalists’, for walking off? Rufus’s for not knowing his job? Or the Indian board’s, for not appointing the right man?

**

	Craig Smith, the Nottinghamshire physio © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Craig Smith, the former South African physio, is at Trent Bridge. Currently working with Nottinghamshire, Smith remembers his 11-year stint with South Africa but also narrates the way it all ended: "I got sacked as physio the same day that Hansie Cronje died [on June 1, 2002]. I got a call and was told that both me and Graham Ford were not needed anymore. An hour later I heard of Cronje's death. It was really hard but one needed to move on."

Smith then came over to England and enjoyed a short stay at Lancashire before moving over to Notts. "I had a chat with Tim Robinson, the former England opener, and he helped me move here." The last four years at Notts have been fruitful for Smith, the highpoint being the County Championship medal in 2005.

He has big hopes for Ryan Sidebottom, who moved from Yorkshire to Nottinghamshire four summers ago. "I think Ryan's actually found it easier on his comeback because he knows exactly what to do now. He knows his areas well and he'll always bowl well irrespective of the conditions."

He also worked with Kevin Pietersen for a year - Smith's first year at Notts was KP's last. Surprisingly he didn't know Pietersen in South Africa but adds: "England's gain. What else can I say?"

	Christian Dawson, Monty's university lecturer © Siddartha Vaidyanathan

You can imagine Monty Panesar in a class, diligent and attentive, grasping concepts eagerly and pumping his fists when he cracked a problem. At the IT department of the University of Loughborough Christian Dawson, a senior lecturer, remembers Monty from the batch of 2005 and terms him "quiet, yet hardworking".

It's tough locating Dawson and one needs to weave through the labyrinthine university corridors. He is a bit confused about the spelling, though he remembers him well, and struggles initially to find his records on the database. "Yeah, here he is," he says, “he's done pretty well for himself, hasn't he?"

Dawson taught Monty Software Project Management in his final year. He remembers a few students talking of his cricketing talent and beamed when he heard he was in the England squad that toured India last year. "On our open days we always tell our students that Monty was a student here. We promote sports in a huge way. I'm quite happy to give students extensions to go and play for their counties and clubs."

Monty first visited the National Cricket Centre while studying at the university. "He popped in here when he was studying and we were very impressed with what we saw," says Guy Jackson, the Operations Manager of the academy. "He had played Under-19 cricket earlier but training here really fast-tracked his progress. He was lucky he went to university here, the academy here was just next door.”

A picture of Monty adorns the walls of the Sports Centre and he's part of an illustrious list of Loughborough alumni. There's Paula Radcliffe, the long-distance runner who’s currently the world record holder for the women’s marathon, there’s Sebastian Coe, the former Olympic gold medallist in the 1500 metre category, there’s Clive Woodward, England's rugby World Cup winning coach, and there’s Donna Kellogg, the former national Badminton champion.

"If you look at the annual championships conducted by the British University Sports Association (BUSA), an event where more than 100 universities take part, Loughborough are usually the runaway winners. Our women have claimed the overall championship for the last 28 years running while our men have managed it for 26 years on the trot. Excellence in sports draws a number of sportsmen to our university. We have lots of sports scholarships too."
Coming from Loughborough, Monty has a big legacy to live up to. But he’s done pretty well so far, hasn’t he?

	During rain intervals spectators try to get some sort of cover, players head back into the dressing-room, and at the press-box spend the time calculating the umpteen possibilities that rain and light offer to cricket © Getty Images

Sitting and watching the gentle pitter-patter today resulted in some interesting conversations in the press box. The first question on everyone's minds was when will that big black cloud arrive? Rain was expected, around half past one said the morning forecasts, but there was always a big 'If' that kept slipping into all discussions. The sun didn't peep out even once and it was just a matter of time before the heavens opened up. India might have been reminded of the fourth day of the Lahore Test, in January 2006, when a consistently murky day produced a Sehwag-inspired batting fiesta.

"If it rains heavily, it may not be that good for India," said a few, "because the skies may clear up and play would surely get underway." We knew by now how good the drainage system at Lord's was; even a thunderstorm might not have mattered. Also, a bit of rain could leave the conditions extremely tough for batting, with the retained atmospheric moisture helping the swing bowlers.

It meant that India's best chance was to get a consistently cloudy day with the light dimming. It would also help if there was some mild drizzle around so that the umpires wouldn't think of re-starting play. At 3:30 in the afternoon all those eventualities combined in a perfect union. For close to four hours hardly anything changed: the drizzle occasionally got heavier, the light sometimes got a bit brighter but all the elements held on together, in a celestial balance, to allow no further play.

Nobody should think of staging Test matches in indoor stadiums. It takes away the umpteen possibilities that the weather offers. Rain and light offer possibilities, they can change the course of a game by creating completely new conditions. Watching two English spinners in tandem under leaden skies, with one wicket to get and a field of vultures surrounding the batsman, has a wonderful feel to it.

	Anyone for a soap holder? © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

“It’s the only injury in cricket which brings tears to your eyes,” says former England batsman David Lloyd, remembering a horrific Perth Test 33 years ago when a good-length ball from Jeff Thomson clattered into his “unmentionables”. Lloyd, who later went on to coach England before settling into a commentary job, remembers the day vividly, when fielders chuckled despite him writhing in pain. “Even now I lose my voice every December”.

Opening the batting on a “lightning” quick WACA pitch, Lloyd had moved on to 17 in the second innings when the moment arrived. Thomson, an unknown commodity before the series but a terror once it got underway, “nipped one back” and found a most delicate target. “The box that I was using at that time was totally inadequate for the job at the time and it actually split,” Lloyd recalled wide-eyed. “All the contents of the inside of the box (let’s put it that way) found their way through and the box itself snapped up. So everything that should have been inside the box were on the outside and the box had to be cut away before I could get back on the field. Thomson was obviously unsympathetic, waiting at the top of his run, but I couldn’t continue. I was ushered off and only returned the next day.”

But have the scars healed? How does he react when he sees modern batsmen getting struck? “I think the current lot are fortunate to not be facing Jeff Thomson. If he hits you it can be serious trouble. The thing about today’s box is that it’s far more substantial than it was when we played. The one we used could be used as a soap holder. The water will drain out. The ball hit me and stopped dead – it wasn’t a glancing blow where it deflects to third man and you get a leg bye. This was full on and dropped straight in the feet.”

Lloyd wrote letters to his mother during that series, one where England went down 4-1 after being dismantled by Lillee and Thomson. “I remember writing a letter saying, ‘I got a half-volley today for the first time in three months and have no clue what to do with it. All the rest have been bouncers’. They were a far better team than us – beat us 4-1. And a formidable West Indies followed us and got beaten 5-1. They were a good side Australia at that time.”

	A display of ruthless straight-driving as had never been seen before © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

It’s the highest individual score at Lord’s, was compiled against India in 1990, and a wagon wheel of the innings has been fittingly illustrated on the tickets for this match. Graham Gooch’s 333 was made with the help of a three-pound Stuart Surridge Grand Prix Turbo and the triangular formations from either side of the pitch show the extent of driving during the knock. One hundred and seven singles, 15 twos, 2 threes, 43 fours and 3 sixes. Seven years later India suffered at the hands of Sanath Jayasuriya (340 in Colombo) but rarely have they experienced such ruthless straight-driving. The lines perpendicular to the pitch remind one of the savage cuts and pulls; in fact one of the strokes one remembers is the swat to the short ball, picking it up from outside off and pulling it down the ground to the straight fence.

**

Harold “Dickie” Bird is at the ground and can’t get enough of attention. “My final Test was on this ground, you know, back in ‘96” he tells people, “and that left-hander of yours got quite a lovely century. Hope he does something similar today.” A few moments later, the left-hander misses a beauty of an indipper and loses his off stump. Was it an emotional end for him at Lord’s? “Tears you know, walking down those steps for the last time. T’was tough.” Did he see any of yesterday’s action? His take on the Kevin Pietersen walk-back? “I think the umpires should have had a discussion before giving him out. You can reverse a decision at any point but it just made the whole thing a bit complicated.”

**

Just after India’s batsmen had been shot down by the young English attack, a couple of archers practised with their bows and arrows at either end of the ground. Lord’s will stage the archery event during the 2012 London Olympics and this was more a PR exercise for that. Great Britain are to face India and China in a triangular competition next month, in what will be the first archery tournament at Lord’s, and this was just an appetiser for bigger things to come.

**

Former captains at the media centre XI: 1 Graham Gooch, 2 Sunil Gavaskar, 3 Mike Atherton, 4 Ian Chappell, 5 David Gower, 6 Mike Gatting, 7 Nasser Hussain, 8 Mike Brearley, 9 Ian Botham, 10 Richie Benaud, 11 Ravi Shastri.

	Tennis great Boris Becker watched golf at the Lord's media centre © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Walk up around lunch time and guess who is at the media centre? Boris ‘Boom boom’ Becker sitting behind the press box and watching golf (The Open) while helping himself to some lunch. “It’s my first time at a cricket match,” he announces as a large media gaggle approach him gingerly. “I’ve seen bits on TV but never at a ground.” It’s the golf, though, that keeps Becker interested as he discusses various possibilities with his partner. He signs a few autographs, consents to a few photos being taken but soon decides he’s had enough and returns to concentrating on his golf. When India last won at Lord’s, the only time they’ve triumphed here, Becker was a 19-year-old sensation making waves on the lawns of Wimbledon. Now he’s at his first cricket match. Surely India can’t lose now. **

Watching the rain can get quite gloomy, especially when it’s pelting down like it was this morning, so this diary decided to take a walk. Waiting for the lift is Ashley Giles, “slimmer and trying to get back to full fitness”. He sure looks it, all decked up in his black suit and dressed for a television show he’s supposed to be part of. “Basically saying the usual” he grins. India mainly remembers Giles for the nasty act on a December day in in 2001. “Has Tendulkar ever been stumped after that?” he asks referring to the dismissal at Bangalore, the only time Tendulkar was stumped in his Test career. When reassured he shoots back: “He has to retire soon for me to keep that record!”

**

Andrew Turner has never seen an international cricket match before. “I was lucky Mikey gave me a pass for today”. Turner is a builder and has been involved in the construction of Michael Holding’s house in Cambridge. To prove his association with Holding, just in case there was any doubt, he ferrets out his mobile phone and sorts through all his voice messages to find the clincher. “Hi Andrew, I found a screwdriver in my bedroom,” said a baritone voice that we’re accustomed to hearing on TV.

	The big boys sit in the Pavilion End © Getty Images

You feel it the moment you enter the underground, in the conversations among passengers, at the St John’s Wood station. Greybeards in MCC blazers and egg-and-bacon coloured ties discuss match possibilities, one repeats Tendulkar’s name almost every sentence. There’s a small whiteboard at the exit of the station that has a handwritten notice about ‘events at Lord’s’. Wellingdon Road, connecting the station to the ground, is choc-a-bloc: there are touts, there are those seeking tickets and there are those walking straight past.

Gray-Nicolls are using the Lord’s Test as a marketing opportunity, with one of their men actually shaping a bat outside their stall. A large audience watches and some are quite bemused to see a bat actually being made. One look around and there’s beer being served already. Who drinks before the toss?

The atmosphere is distinct from any in the world. Silence thrills. No conches, no banners, no flags. There’s nothing loud about the ground, all calm and sacrosanct. The bowler mostly runs-up in silence, the sound of bat on ball is heard distinctly. Claps begin only later. The conditions are ideal for butterflies to breed in the stomach.

The big boys - former players, politicians and other big-wigs - sit in the Pavilion end. You’re allowed in the Pavilion only if you have a jacket and a tie, we’re told. There’s a large Asian contingent at the Nursery side which is largely silent when India’s bowlers are getting hammered around. Lord Tebbitt, who suggested in the '80s that the true loyalties of a man can be gauged by the team he supported, would have smiled.

Strauss understands: “I'd like to think the British people would support the English team,” he said, “but I understand there's a lot of heritage among the English Asians, and that goes back a long way. So, they are free to make their own choices. No problems from our point of view, hopefully we can drag them round to our point of view at some point.”

Ramesh Powar spends the day practising at the Nursery Ground. Once he finishes, he's mobbed for autographs. Where can a man of his size hide? Chandu Borde arrives for the press conference at the end of the day. "Are you happy at the end of the day?" Borde answers with a big smile on his face: "Of course, very happy." Optimists of the world unite.

	Harris Gardens © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

At the pavilion end at Lord's, close to the Museum and adjacent to a shop selling memorabilia, are the Harris Gardens. Named after Lord Harris, the Governer of the Bombay Presidency from 1890 to 1895, it resembles a site which has hosted a party last night, with tables and chairs overturned and other furniture lying around. But back in 1875, it was the arena to standardise the rules of lawn tennis. The dimensions of the garden, we are told, resemble those of the modern tennis court.

Opposite the garden is a tennis club, one of the 50-odd in the world where they still play real tennis. Real tennis is the original racquet sport. Also called jeu de paume in France, it's from which the modern game of tennis descended. It appears to be a mixture of tennis and squash. Today there are only about 50 real-tennis courts around the world – 27 in England, 13 in America, 6 in Australia, 4 in France and 3 in Ireland and the current world champion, Robert Fahey, is from Tasmania.

Lawn tennis became increasingly popular in the 1870s. In 1877, when the All England Croquet Club was in need of a new roller to maintain its lawns, a championship tennis tournament was proposed as an ideal way to raise the money. Major Walter Wingfield wrote the first rule-book in 1873. However, his court was in the shape of an hourglass and it was RA Fitzgerald, the secretary of the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC), who proposed a standardisation of the rules. It was then that the MCC decided to use the dimensions of the Harris Gardens for the measurements of the courts.

	A view of Old Street at night © Cricinfo

Walking through central London on a Sunday evening is quite eerie. The streets are so deserted that you hope it's not an evacuation. Liverpool Street, Highbury Islington, Kings Cross – names you'd associated with a bustling metropolis – are all quite funereal.

We're told about Old Street being a busy one; we land up there and find three gents walking as aimlessly as us. We remember it's Sunday, suddenly we realise it's Brazil v Argentina in the Copa America final, a game that's supposed to start in a little while. A few frantic enquiries later we settled on Offside, a sports bar just round the corner. The term "just round the corner" can take anything from 10 seconds to an hour. We managed it in ten.

Brazil leading 1-0. The yellow shirts are chatting loudly; the blues and whites are chatting louder. Latin accents bounce around the walls – yellows are happy, blues and whites are angry. Brazil 2-0. Yellows go bananas; blues and whites are slightly shocked, slightly angry, slightly sad before going bananas, angrily. Too much commotion. Brazil 3-0. Laughter from the yellows, a most evil laughter when one is sure of victory; laughter from blues and whites, the sort where one has given up all hope. It all ends in laughter. Who said football was a violent game?

	'Graham Gooch is a nice man. Gosh, what a let down' © Kieran Galvin

Graham Gooch was standing at ease, bag in hand, and smiling. Surely that's not Gooch (or as my grandfather used to say, Goch). There was a celebratory piece on Gooch recently, written by Patrick Kidd, a staff writer with The Times, where he spoke about Gooch's bottom: "The backside thrust out towards square leg". And that's the Gooch we remember: ram-rod straight stance, high bully-like back lift, Zapata moustache, that steely determination in the eyes and the statuesque seriousness.

Against India he turned plunderer, rudely ravaging 333 at Lord's and sweeping 115 at the Wankhede in a World Cup semi-final. He was the perennial villain but unlike the movies the bad guy always won. In 1990, on India's tour to England, I'd agreed on a pact with granddad to study till Gooch was at the crease and only then listen to the cricket on radio. By the end of the series, when he amassed three hundreds and two fifties, I was doing well at school. That didn't stop me cursing both my granddad and his dear 'Goch', though.

How the mighty have fallen. He's courteous, jovial and witty, a fine talker and a good analyst. As he offers a handshake, you hesitate fearing for your fingers but all you get is a normal, firm grasp. He's ready to answer a variety of questions and talks in specifics. He's a nice man. Gosh, what a let down.

	A section of the Chelmsford crowd © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Look around county grounds and you’re likely to see middle-aged, old and wary spectators who are thoroughly immersed in the cricket. They enjoy a drink or five, talk about the “good old days” and inject a quaint charm in what has largely become a young man’s sport. It’s great to see these supporters (fans is just too crude a word for such sophistication) enjoy a day at the cricket, reading, chatting, watching, gently clapping. No hooting, no jeering and no mobbing of players. It a fine contrast – the younger lot chanting slogans and waving flags, the older generation quietly enjoying their cricket.

The setting adds to the charm – green hills, church spires, tree-lined boundaries – and produced a most soothing experience. “It’s a sedate, casual and contemplative experience,” wrote Mike Marqusee, the American historian settled in England. “The players acquire a human dimension absent from the gladiatorial international arenas. The weather, as always in England, sets the tone, and dictates the style — from blankets and flasks of hot tea to sun-hats and chilled lagers. And is there another sporting event regularly graced by second-hand bookstalls?”

**

Newspaper shocker for the day

The newspaper that’s circulated in the Underground is great to lifts spirits. You’re on your way to work, probably expecting a hard day, and you read about a man who spends 250 pounds to buy a new iphone and immediately places it in his blender to ask the question that he always does: “Will it blend”. At the end of his experiment he loudly proclaims the result: “Yes it will”. It’s apparently an iPhone torture test. I can’t wait to read more such inspiring tales in tomorrow’s edition.

	Joe Hussain at the Illford Cricket School © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Tucked away in a quiet corner of Essex, about half an hour from Chelmsford, is the Illford Cricket School, a nursery with a rich tradition. Located in an inconspicuous corner behind the Harvesters Pub at Gants Hill, it’s a coaching centre that’s produced five international cricketers – Graham Gooch, John Lever, James Foster, Nasser Hussain and Ravi Bopara – and close to 40 who’ve gone on to play the game at the first-class level.

In charge of the school is Joe (Jawad) Hussain, Nasser’s father, who welcomes you in an accent that’s a delightful mix of Chennai and Illford. “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he says with a crisp Tamil tongue before quickly changing tack, “this place is almost hidden innit?” Joe was born in Madras (not Chennai but Madras, he insists) and managed a solitary Ranji Trophy game for Tamil Nadu. “Sardesai passed away man,” he says thoughtfully. “What a batsman. I’ll never forget the hundred he made for Mafatlal against my club, MCC.”

Joe loves to talk. Mention “Asian cricketers” and his eyes twinkle with excitement. “Just wait for five years and half the English team will be players of Asian origin,” he states emphatically. “There’s so much talent you know but the problem with Asian cricketers is that they’re very talented but not able to take their game to the next level. Cricketers like Owais Shah, Kabir Ali and Vikram Solanki should have made it long back. Take a chap like Collingwood, compare him to Owais Shah – Shah is way more talented, miles ahead but Collingwood through sheer hard work has made it. So many Asian boys get country contracts for one-two years and then disappear. Something happens.”

He provides a classic example of an Asian cricketer who got a chance to make his debut against Australia a few years ago. “You should have seen the way he came for the match. In a big car with four chamchas and was speaking on two mobile phones. He was acting as if he’s the world’s best player. The Aussies saw that and sledged the hell out of him. He was finished. You need education, man. Most Asian cricketers who have done well here have had a good mix of cricket and education. Otherwise you think you’re better than you actually are. You need grounding.”

Joe came to England first in 1963 and admits the first 15 years were spent in dilemma, with regard to which team to support. Initially it was always India, even when they were playing England, but things gradually began to change. In fact it was only when he found himself supporting England that he realised he was being accepted by his adopted country. “It takes time to feel part of another country and nowadays it’s always England. When India are playing someone else, though, it’s always India.”

Joe can relate to men of his generation having the dilemma but can’t understand how some members of the younger generation feel similarly. “You go through the junior levels - Under-11, U-15, U-19 etc and move towards playing for England … still you support your country of origin. I find it strange. Why do you want to play for England then?”

“And one question I ask all these kids: has anyone with origins in India and Pakistan gone there and played for that country? No. They won’t even consider the thought. The problem is not with the children, it’s with the parents and grandparents – they don’t want their children to mingle outside their community, they don’t want them to speak in English. They want to be as Indian as they can. This country can give so much only … you need to give something to it as well.”

	Ronnie Irani on the phone © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Ronnie Irani, the recently retired Essex captain, talking loudly on his mobile and after a point is not able to decide whether to get into his car or just stay out. At one point he opens the car door, begins to get in, head still out, mobile at his right ear, hollering … you get the picture.

Meanwhile Alastair Cook, England’s opening batsman, is checking out a bagful of golf clubs. Sleek, brand new ones but there’s just one problem: “They’re all right-handed.”

Danish Kaneria lurks outside the ground aimlessly, suddenly surprised when someone stops him to say hello: “Marwadoge yaar (you’ll kill me, man).

	'I alighted at King’s Cross, platform 1 and not 9 ¾ as Harry Potter would have, and am handed a free copy of the local newspaper' © Cricinfo Ltd

George Mikes, the Hungarian born British author, wrote in How to be a Brit: "The trouble with tea is that originally it was quite a good drink. So a group of the most eminent British scientists put their heads together, and made complicated biological experiments to find a way of spoiling it. To the eternal glory of British science their labour bore fruit."

It's something I thought of soon after landing at Heathrow airport and headed to a snacks counter to gulp some tea. That particular offering wasn't as bad as Mikes made it out but again anything hot that tasted remotely like tea would have done the trick at the time. Close to ten
hours of grogginess needed treatment.

This is my third visit to this country, yet nothing seems to have changed about Heathrow. In 1990 I remember being overwhelmed with the abundance of information available - direction boards, announcements, pamphlets, help desks – and nothing’s changed. "In case you're lost please contact this number,"said a board towards the exit, exhibiting the digits in bright red. It
will be interesting to find out how many people actually get lost in this city?

Onto the Underground, that uber-organised transport system, where pre-recorded messages constantly hammer into you to "mind the gap" between the platform and the train. I can imagine the laughter a similar announcement would prompt in a local train in Mumbai, where one has far
more serious things to mind than that pesky gap. That minor irritation apart, though, it's a most joyous experience, passing by stations that one traded while playing Monopoly the board game. I alighted at King’s Cross, platform 1 and not 9 ¾ as Harry Potter would have, and am handed a free copy of the local newspaper.

I sift through it and learn that India's touring cricketers have had a "good work-out" against Sussex at Hove. England's one-day side are being pasted for playing an "anachronistic" brand of cricket but Lewis Hamilton and Jamie Murray are providing plenty of cheer. Another of Mikes’s sayings comes to mind: "Many Continentals think life is a game; the English think cricket is a game." The Indians, though, it’s often said, think cricket is the only game.