Try to follow the game outside the cricket-playing world and its bewildering complexities might alienate you from the locals

After the grim nadir of the '80s and '90s, England fans have become used to their team winning again - and that, paradoxically, can be frustrating

In the stands? Glued to the telly? Or on a train, waiting for texts from your mum?

His book on England's victorious tour of Australia in 1986-87 entertained a ten-year-old and taught him the value of writing on just the sport

A wicket off a long hop and a memorable six: oh for the golden summer of 2002 (or was it?)

You can almost pinpoint the date when the switch happened in England

Ralph Barker's first book on cricket, written in 1964, is a curious one, of indefinite genre. But as a record of history, it does its job

What makes it memorable is often less the action than the way in which we consumed it. Sport provides a currency in which the exchanges of social interaction can be conducted. Take Headingley 1991, for instance

Testkill, co-written by Ted Dexter, is a murder mystery involving the death of a bowler. The plot should take a backseat for the reader, who must read it for the portrayal of seventies cricket in all its sordid naffness

Brian Clough might have been one of the greatest football managers the English game ever knew, but cricket held a special place in his life as well

We are used to the complaint that there is too much cricket played nowadays, but what if there was too little? You'd be forced to indulge in games played out entirely in the imagination - just as Godfrey Evans once did

When the world's best cricket stars played exhibition games in a county ground in Northumberland, one young fan was hooked