I like a bit of sport, but cricket?

Although I follow pretty much any sport to a certain extent, cricket just leaves me cold, even if this is a great sporting rivalry.

Not even the fact that Worcestershire will be taking on Australia across four days from today can stir even the slightest bit of interest in the spectacle.

The tedious and childish sledging started well ahead of the first Test at Trent Bridge on Wednesday, July 10, which at least provides something of a diversion from the sport itself.

Frankly, though, if it doesn’t involve a drunk Freddie Flintoff making a buffoon of himself in public or commandeering a pedalo, I’m not listening.

That the whole affair drags on until mid-September fills me with dread, especially with the offering of wall-to-wall coverage thanks to a dedicated channel on Sky.

I’d be keener to tune in and watch paint dry, or play along with the Antiques Roadshow, wondering what exactly is going on with Fiona Bruce’s eyebrows.

My experience of the sport only extends to almost getting a hattrick in my primary school’s playground, being more interested in lobbing the ball as far as I could during my only competitive match as an 11-yearold and gleefully hitting a tennis ball into the sea.

It’s all a little too slow and pedestrian for my liking, lacking enough excitement to grab my attention and hold it.

Cricket just seems to go on and on in a lazy, aimless sort of way and doesn’t seem to have the same ‘wow factor’ of some other sports that lend themselves more as real spectator events.

On the playing front, I prefer sports that tax me physically and leave me feeling as though I have really exerted myself.

Standing around in a field for hours on end would probably only succeed in making me want to take a quick nap until it was time to break for lunch or tea.

Give me a long run in the mud over the quintessential British village green experience any day.