I, like many of you, read the weathered cricket anecdotes of Mr Steve Berryman with great interest. Indeed, it has been many years since I have heard such old jokes that I had to check that it wasn’t Tarby’s name at the bottom of the page. As much of a delight that the Cotswolds are, you do get the feeling the inhabitants have only been walking upright since the turn of the new millennium. I also find it amusing that they all call each other “Uncle” and spend a lot of their time playing banjo recitals.

However, I feel Mr. Berryman’s brash, outdated banter may disguise the fact that he feels we are now serious competition for the collective of Metropolitan rejects and insular hermits. The side that the mighty Rosaneri will field this summer will be far more experienced and settled than the previous line up, with more attack in the bowling and more guile in the batting. By the time we go into this match, we will have blown off the ring rust and should be in full flow. The Cotswold’s Ashes are now the number one stump I wish to burn and take home, overtaking Heather Mills.

So beware Mr. Berryman, the taunting only inspires us and we relish the prospect of a hearty battle out on the crease. The question is, do you?