It’s been a long old summer for the seamers. In particular spare a thought for David Masters, who slogged through 557.2 overs, or at least 3,444 balls for his 45 wickets, more overs than anyone else in the country. In all eight seamers topped 50 wickets, none bettering Steve Kirby’s haul of 64, although Graham Onions would surely have done so had international appearances not limited him to seven games. But what else do the end of season averages reveal?

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There was a moment last night when it looked as if England’s chances of winning their first global one-day tournament were about to evaporate into the high-veldt night air. New Zealand – 84 without loss and 113 for one in pursuit of 147 – suddenly lurched to 140 for six. England could have won. They would have topped their group and headed into the semi-finals amid careless talk of impending triumph. It would have been a disaster.

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Enough. The domestic season is over. Kent and Essex are up, Sussex are down, Worcestershire appear out and everyone else is off for a long kip.

But quickly, before everyone packs up, lets put a quick England-focused filter over the end of season averages from the County Championship.

Today, the batting.

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Good thing not all of us are English, and therefore weren’t party to the misery that went with Australia’s all but unchecked charge to victory in the one-day series in England.

From here – and admittedly with the help of that fine friend, hindsight – it’s difficult to see what the anguish was about.

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It’s hard to see how the words “Gary Kirsten” might fit into the same sentence as “sex scandal”.

Kirsten, once a yeoman opening batsman for South Africa, now India’s coach, has the look and the bearing of a monk, and he tends to think like one.

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As much as the previously colonised among us enjoy seeing England beaten - this utterly objective reporter included - there is much to be taken from their victories.

The Three Lions were indeed rampant in their handsome win over Sri Lanka in the Champions Trophy in Johannesburg on Friday. England delivered a well-nigh flawless lesson in Cricket, How To Play.

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This week I was invited to watch some County Championship cricket at Northampton. It was the first cricket I’d seen since the last day of the Ashes, as I could not have been less enthused about the prospect of seven one-dayers against Australia - a position that I suspect I shared with many of the England squad.

Our broken national side have now been whisked away to the southern hemisphere to play three warm-down games, and have taken many of our cricket journalists with them. But there are still a few days of cricket that actually matters being played out on our home soil. Durham may have yomped off with the Division One Championship some time ago, but the battle for promotion from Division Two will go to the wire.

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Oscar-winning actor Jeremy Irons discusses the joys of cricket with Edward Craig

I played cricket when I was at school. I suffered indignity after indignity. I used to sit there on the boundary for hours, trying to make grass burn with a magnifying glass. I would make the sandwiches for tea. That was what I did, more of a helper.

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Like many life-affirming moments, it happened in a pub. One Friday evening, after a few drinks in my favourite local, I announced to a few friends that I planned to cycle around the world. Laughter… followed by silence, perhaps as they saw that I was serious… and then more laughter as they realised the absurdity.

They all knew me too well. My lack of any sort of savings, complete absence of cycle-touring experience and famously spindly legs were all offered as reasons that I wouldn’t begin such a mammoth journey, let alone finish it.  They also didn’t believe that I could cope without playing cricket for a year. But they didn’t know that my mind was made up. After six years behind a desk in London fulfilling very few of my childhood dreams, it was time to tackle some.

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With Captain Floyd Reifer (that’s R-E-I-F-E-R)

I thought we were a bit unlucky against Pakistan but we proved right from the start that we can compete at this level, when I called correctly at the toss. There was a bit of awkwardness before the match this morning when I said “hello” to the reserve umpire Billy Bowden and he tried to give me an autograph but once I explained who I was that all got cleared up. Afridi told me that Bowden apparently tries to give everyone his autograph so I didn’t take it personally.

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