Paul Edwards is a beautiful writer. He can express the moods and emotions of a day as well as anyone. And his love for the game – and those involved in it – pours off every page of this book. But because he has interests far beyond the boundary – in politics and people, in music and history – he is as likely to quote Mott the Hoople as Herman Melville; as likely to cite the repeal of the corn laws as regulations regarding Kolpak registrations. His work is all the richer and more satisfying for it. He knows that not everything that counts can be counted. He knows you can’t define love or loyalty or a million things in between. So he tells us how a day’s play feels. He tells us about the people and places. He tells us why it matters but knows it doesn’t matter too much.

Although well-educated, freelance cricket writer Paul Edwards would be sent down from the university of life. He reads, writes and watches cricket. He cannot drive, swim or even ride a bicycle. The simplest practical tasks defeat him. His reporting of outground cricket has resulted in him spending more time in tents than an agoraphobic Bedouin and one of his happiest memories is of eating asparagus and hollandaise sauce on a wet Wednesday afternoon at Tunbridge Wells. He has written on cricket for The Times, ESPNCricinfo, Wisden Cricket Monthly, The Cricketer, Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack and a host of other publications. He still thinks ‘digital’ refers to fingers and frequently refers to Radio 3 as the Third Programme. He once had a letter read out on TMS.