An atmosphere of lions and Christians at Edgbaston. The days when Cowdrey came out to face Wes Hall, with a broken arm and one over and one wicket remaining, and gentlemen started to politely gnaw their umbrellas long gone. Except at Lords. The old chaps in the members’ enclosure, slumbering through it all in their M.C.C. eggs and bacon blazers and ties, outdo the pantomime horses at Edgbaston for comedy every time.