The day before the Ashes is one of my favourite days of the sporting calendar. The tension is exquisite, the excitement bordering on unbearable. 

The whole of an Ashes series lies ahead with all its potential, its highs and lows, its triumphs and disasters. It is wonderful to savour this moment when everything is uncertain but full of the potential for wonders.

If you are anything like me, you are aching for that first ball to be bowled. There is, however, a real Schrodinger-like tension because at the same time, I can wait. I love the anticipation that much.

It feels like I am waiting for the tapes to fly up on that first great showdown between Kauto Star and Denman: a race that was run to break the existing champ's mighty heart.  

It is the first Guineas trial of the year, the split second before the gates open when the runners dip in anticipation of the break and jockeys grab a handful of mane.

It is the worrying about form, injuries, whether the acknowledged stars will perform and whether there is a new star to be discovered. It is the start of the fresh season for your team, when last year's disasters are swept away and triumphs are there to be built on and repeated.

Of course it also feels like the day they turned the Large Hadron Collider on and we waited for the wonders of the universe to start to open up. What actually happened was it broke. Rumours abound it was because someone left a sandwich in there.

These are the things that lie at heart of sport. Not misplaced sandwiches, but the anticipation of the contest. The great performances are wonderful, the potential is even better.

Judging by the news, I was luckier than some of yesterday's A Level candidates.

I did not get the grades I needed for the university of my choice. In fact I failed to the grades twice - doing better but not well enough on the second attempt. I had fulfilled my teachers' expectations of me; I had continued to under-achieve.

Ah well, no Social & Economic History at Bristol for Beeswaxy. Probably for the best as economics gives me a headache, but I was convinced that it would mostly be about the spinning jenny and sheep. 

Rejection followed rejection, until one of my choices, a university I had added because I liked the name, invited me for interview. Well I might as well give it a go, I reasoned.

It did not go well. The other interviewees were all Oxbridge candidates - I hadn't realised the calibre of the university. After all, it was the name that I liked and the campus was nice.

The first interviewer fired questions at me like Freddie Truman. I threw my wicket away as if I was in the pay of a Far Eastern betting syndicate.

The second interview had been going in much the same direction, when something extraordinary happened. I noticed the picture on the wall behind the interviewer. A stiff, dour gentleman who looked vaguely familiar. The interviewer asked me a tricky question about the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

"Excuse me, is that a picture of Wilfred Rhodes?"

"Yes it is. How did you know that?"

"The first Englishman to complete the double of 1,000 runs and 100 wickets in Test matches." I said confidently, "I am interested in cricket history."

"Are you?" said the interviewer with a boyish glee "He is a particular hero of mine."

We talked about Rhodes's career and his ability to take wickets despite buckets of rain. Well he talked and I mostly listened. It seemed polite and to be honest, I didn't know that much about Rhodes. He waxed lyrical about Rhodes's partnerships with CB Fry in the final Test of the 1909 Ashes. I told him about sitting next to my hero, Les Ames, at a Kent match some summers previously. 

In the end, we talked for an hour and a half and I missed two trains back home. I must have shown some talent for constructing an argument because five months later, I found myself looking at Wilfred Rhodes for two hours a week, every Wednesday.

Royal Mail might consider counties an outmoded convention, but this is not true of all of us.

This morning in the library of the Royal Geographical Society, Beeswaxy Minimus, the youngest and most dashing of the Brothers Beeswaxy, held a press conference at which he unveiled his latest idea.

An adventurer at heart, Beeswaxy Minimus is happiest when playing high altitude cricket in far flung climes. So it was no surprise to your correspondent when he climbed onto the rostrum and greeted the members of the press with the following news.

"Following Andy Flower's announcement that Kevin Pietersen will have to find a new county, we are announcing an expedition to discover it.

It will be led by the world-renowned explorer, Col Screaming and I will be going as travelling captain. Screaming is best known for his leadership of the Royal Geographical Society expedition which successfully discovered the source of the town of Guildford. We will be accompanied by members of the ECB's Diplomatic Service and the MCC's Etiquette working party.

Our plan is that once we have discovered a suitable candidate county, we will claim it in the name of the ECB and confer minor county status. This will be cemented by the playing of a limited overs game against an Expedition Invitational XI.

Logistically, we will be setting off as soon as we have concluded here. We will be starting the expedition in three Land Rovers but will be exchanging them for ponies and huskies as soon as the terrain is suitable for the travelling heavy roller.

I know that there has been some talk in the press about any new English county being too far from London for KP. I believe, however that there are areas on the disputed Kent/West Sussex border that have not been mapped and have been erroneously claimed by both counties. Crack historians from the Royal Geographical Society's cricket outreach project are looking for legal and sporting precedents as I speak.

I will now answer any questions you may have."

This was met with cheers and a storm of flashbulbs, as Beeswaxy Minimus was mobbed by over-excited cricket journalists.

Meanwhile, quietly in a corner, a husky chewed a Kookaburra and declared it alright, but not as good as a Reader Sovereign.

Can I be boring about KP?

Of course I can. After all the world and his dog has an opinion on him since Andy Flower's statement on England players and county cricket. In fact I had a very interesting conversation with a Border Terrier called Radish on exactly this subject.

KP's departure from Hampshire has been well documented but flared up again this week when the ECB released certain players for the Friends Provident Twenty20 Finals Day. Hampshire's decision not to pick him on Saturday was understandable, although whoever writes the press releases probably needs to work on their tone a bit. KP's response was measured and mature... on Twitter at least.

The general concensus at the House of Bees, a cricket-loving honey-based collective, is that KP's recent lack of form is down to a bit of self-doubt. Actually, we tend to say that about a lot of things, but in this case we think it to be true.

I have a lot of admiration for KP, particularly now he has calmed down on the haircut front, and I think he gets a lot of stick unfairly. Yes, he has his faults and doesn't necessarily come across particularly well but he has a real work ethic and he is passionate about playing for England, both are qualities that many other sports would envy. But work ethic will only get you so far, you need to reproduce it in the field. Here is hoping that his his 80 against Pakistan in the Second Test is the start of a return to form. Yes, it was a bit scratchy at time, but there was pressure and he responded to it positively. 

The House of Bees is, however, also very much in agreement with Andy Flower that members of the England test team should play county cricket. This is based on three beliefs:

1) It's good for the player

To return to the point about KP, I believe that self doubt can only truly be erased in a match situation and not in the nets. There is nothing better for a Test player in the middle of a lean patch to spend some time belting county bowlers around the ground. I am sure the county bowlers would disagree, but sometimes you need to remember what it is you love about the game.

2) It's good for the game

While we have trouble articulating exactly why, the other members of the House of Bees and I agree that the county structure of cricket is fundamental for the health of the national side. Having international stars playing in county matches cements the link and draws fans back to the ground. Not in vast numbers admittedly, but with county cricket taking a knock at the moment, we will take what we can get.

3) It's good for the fans

In these straightened times ticket prices for international matches seem to be very expensive. County cricket gives an alternative to see international players and touring sides. Admittedly this relies on the touring side playing their stars rather than resting them and counties picking Test players when they are released. 

KP, for all his faults, can be a real asset for any county on and off the field. While we love to see him striding the big stage, he should remember that his fans just love seeing him play.

Sunday should have been about Haider and his dogged resistance of England. Instead the resounding memory will be the behaviour of Stuart Broad.

I am no apologist for Broad. I think his behaviour represents a side of sport I would prefer not to see in cricket or indeed at all, but I do think that it is easy to criticise without sparing a thought for the wider context.

For me the issue with his behaviour is less about Broad and more about the people who surround him. Don't get me wrong, I agree wholeheartedly with ICC match referee Ranjan Madugalle when he says Broad's behavious was "unacceptable". I think he should have forfeited all of his match fee, although I would have preferred a match ban.

In Broad's relatively short international career, he has been hailed as a match-changing bowler but he has also shown a lack of patience that came to a head on Sunday. Cricket is all about patience, whether you are a bowler, batsman or a fan and this is never more true when things aren't going your way. Patience is critical to the ability to bowl consistently.

Broad clearly has a short temper and yes, fire is exactly what you want in a pace attack, if and it is a very big if, it can be chanelled. With the Ashes coming up, I want him firing with absolute determination, but my worry is that Sunday has shown how mentally vulnerable he is.

Pakistan's young team have shown themselves vulnerable against against line and length throughout the summer - all it was going to take was a little patience and a change of tactics from Strauss. So the question jumps up at me why was Broad allowed to get himself into such a state? Was Strauss aware that he was bubbling up to boiling point? Were any of his senior teammates helping him channel that anger and frustration into his bowling? I don't mean by making it more fiery, but intensifying the postive aspects of it. Well clearly the answer to the last question is "no".

More importantly who is helping Broad learn to manage this off the pitch? What is the role of the entire phalanx of sports psychologists at the ECB's beck and call? It's not that Broad has to change that part of his personality, but he clearly needs some help understanding that he is a servant of team and game.

To me, this is about the lack of pastoral care around young players. In a range of sports we are seeing young rise to international prominence and acclaim, after being hothoused. This tends to be a training that places winning and achievement at the heart, but fails to teach you how to manage when things aren't going your  It's the X Factor approach.

The trouble is that it is not simply enough to teach them to bowl, kick or throw a ball accurately, if you don't give them the mental strength to keep going when things are going wrong. In cricket, the county system has always provided that level of support, but clearly Broad requires a little bit more. I would hate to see cricket get to the stage of other sports where the protected nature of the young sports stars' lives means they do not experience the everyday knocks that teach me and you how to deal with failure. Being on hold to National Rail Enquiries for example.

The England team management have some tough lessons to learn in managing young stars, but learn them they must if they are not going to repeat the same mistakes with Steven Finn.

"Now listen, 11 men come out onto the field and two men go into bat. We have to bowl the ball at these men and they have to hit it and stop it from knocking all their little bits of wood over. And then when we have knocked all their little bits of wood over, we change round and then they have knock all our little bits of wood over. And we do it for six hours a day for five days."

I am a passionate admirer of Galton and Simpson, particularly Hancock's Half Hour. One of my favourite episodes is a largely forgotten one called 'The Test Match'. 

It is a real shame that it is not more widely known, because it is as funny if you have no interest in cricket as it is for the dyed-in-the-wool fan. I am not sure if Galton and Simpson are cricket fans, but there is a real affection laced throughout the script that makes me think that they probably are. 

The premise is that Sid becomes Chairman of the MCC by subtefuge at the start of an Ashes summer, makes Tony England captain and then bets heavily on Australia to win. A nice comic skit, but it doesn't really sell it as an episode. 

What will sell it to the first time cricket-loving listener is that it contains appearances by a sparkling guest cast: John Arlott, Godfrey Evans, Colin Cowdrey and Frank Tyson. All of whom show the kind of the comic timing Graeme Swann would envy. All too often, guest stars who aren't performers sound stilted and awkward. (James Corden/England World Cup squad, I am looking at you.)

Here, however, the interplay between Evans, Cowdey, Tyson and Hancock is perfectly pitched. When Tony offers Frank advice on bowling, the comic tone is exquisite;

"Frank, I'll do the bowling, you watch. Tell you what, notice how I hold the ball, with the fingers on the seam, there you see... very important if you are ever going to be a good bowler."

John Arlott's gentle deadpan mocking of 1950s Test commentary is perfect

"And here at Lord's, with half an hour to go to lunch, we have been playing for one and a half hours and Hancock has yet to finish the first over."

For the modern fan, there will be a strange echo in Sid's plans to make the game more profitable. In fact, you have to wonder whether the administrators of the game might have heard this episode themselves.

Oh, oh I could go on about it, but I would spoil it more than I have already. Quoting the script renders it flat and lifeless.

Find a copy and enjoy. If you can't find one, drop me a line and I am sure I can oblige.

Beeswaxy Wynyates, the ancestral pile* of the Beeswaxys, was thrown into chaos this week by the return from the Tropics of brother Billy Beeswaxy, with tales of derring-do with glove and bat.

His first act, on arrival, was to call for middle and leg and demand a long session in his patent 'pop up' nets to restore the circulation after the journey. He declined a session with the gloves as he had been practising his keeping during the flight. One of the air stewardesses turned out to be a seamer of subtlety and skill.

Dressed, as ever, in dazzling whites, a navy blazer double-trimmed with white braid and faithful old cricket cap, he cuts a jaunty figure here in the homeland of the summer game. On his arrival at Heathrow he was mistaken for a misplaced member of the 1950-51 England Ashes touring side and mobbed accordingly. 

Claiming to be returning to this country to stock up on blazers and brylcreem, Billy Beeswaxy has in fact kept the real reason for his visit a secret. Until now.

Although a captain of a notoriously wayward but very successful school 2nd XI and a wicketkeeper-batsman of local renown, he was unlikely to cause the Kent selectors sleepless nights.

Instead, he chose to ply his trade on the baked wickets of East Africa, where his unorthodox style and aggressive front-foot play alarmed several retired colonels, snoozing by the pavilion. They used the club as a place to peruse ancient Wisdens and to mumble about Goodwood runners in their sleep. To take the game to the bowler was just not cricket.

Season after season, he tamed East African pitches that were not so much prepared as dragged up, climbing peaks both geographical and cricketing. His favourite place to practise batting is at the bottom of the Hell's Gate ravine, the over-hanging cliffs providing a pressure cooker atmosphere. Declaring the Maasai Mara to be 'ideal', he taught a troop of baboons to bowl underarm so he could don the gloves mid-safari.

Lately he has chosen to pass his skills onto others, taking over the management and coaching of his school's under 11s who had suffered whitewashes during the previous seasons.

Tearing up the syllabus, he distributed copies of Iain Wilton's biography of CB Fry and sent them off to try their hands at athletics, Association Football, Rugby Union and politics. Like their new hero, they were to be renaissance men & women. Billy Beeswaxy urged them to aspire to the throne of Albania.

Two unbeaten seasons have followed, the team sweeping all before them. When asked the secret of their success, their captain will only say that brother Beeswaxy has taught them how to deal with the twin spectres that had previously haunted their game. These were not Kipling's triumph and disaster. Nor was it self-doubt and the state of the wicket.

Rather, it was the monkeys that sat in the trees, watching and laughing themselves silly and the local warthogs who had come to consider the outfield their own. 

The warthogs prove their worth in between fixtures, grazing the sward but during matches they can be more troubling: dozing like the retired Colonels at their club, refusing to move until a cover drive shoots past their nose. At which point, they jump up and chase after the ball. Then, in the manner of Shahid Afridi, they bite it.

"The monkeys were easy to deal with, the warthogs less so" the captain told the local junior newspaper "But we discovered they had a liking for Bird's custard, so at the start of each match we give them the key to the kitchen store cupboard."

Brother Beeswaxy was quick to spot a business opportunity that had the health of the game at its heart. 

"Make no bones about it, a warthog-grazed pitch is a boon to the modern game. The outfield is quick and even, great for entertaining shot play. Admittedly they have a tendency to sharpen their tusks on the wicket, but I look at it as giving the bowlers something to aim at."

Over a post-nets dinner, he revealed the reason for his visit:

"I am meeting the ECB next week - this time next year, you will see warthogs starting to make a real impact on pitches at Test and county level".

I, for one, cannot wait.

*A one and a half up, one and a half down cottage built for one of the cricket ball makers of Duke's.

It has been too long since I've actually watched a game of cricket. 

Not on the television or wandering vaguely along the boundary of a village ground on Saturday afternoon but actually as a spectator. There from the beginning and there to the bitter end.

This summer has mostly been spent retuning the televisions in the office to the dodgy sky sports subscription and then guarding it from non-cricket fans who seem to think that the screens are there for news channels and systems monitoring information.

It has not been spent at either of my county grounds. It has not been spent watching brothers raise the ghosts of school XIs past. There has been no opportunity to slip off out of work for an afternoon at the Oval or Lords.   It is a massive gaping, bloody, raw hole. 

It probably explains why I have been in such a bad mood for the last few months.

I will take the excitement of a twenty20, but what I really crave is a four day county match. One where there is a gentle ebb and flow of fortunes on the pitch, where you see the same faces talking about the same things and where the ladies serving tea know the gossip and will tell you too. 

I want the expectation of the journey, the slightly warm packed lunch, the craving for tea and cake, the shock at the price of a 99 these days. 

Most of all, I long to hear the sounds of the game, the rattle of wickets falling, the sound of the ball connecting with the bat off a fast delivery, the cries of delight when someone lands a tricky catch. 

Now that I have the week off, I am finding it hard to find a county match that I can make and the village teams are playing away.

But something is certain, I have to see some cricket soon or I will go stir crazy.

Who didn't feel elated by the way England put Pakistan to the sword at Trent Bridge? It is hard not to agree with Andrew Strauss when he says

‘‘When the ball is swinging there is no better bowler in the world than Jimmy.”

James Anderson. Birthday boy and taker of 11 wickets for just 71 runs. Star of the Test match, a player who is in his prime and gives us much to savour for the future. Enough of the obvious platitudes. 

It was a great performance after a difficult summer for Anderson. He has, he freely admits, found it hard to find consistency or to take wickets with the new ball.

It is tempting to start fretting about whether he will be able to reproduce such form during the Ashes. I have just returned from a hour long and very tense discussion with a friend who is adamant that the ball and Aussie conditions will not show him to his best advantage. I think, however, that we should look back on a world class bowling performance, and give credit to the able assistance of Broad and Finn. We also should not forget some amazing close catches coming off fast deliveries.

When conditions are right, Anderson is unbeatable. Not only because of his ability to swing the ball, but of his superb tactical brain. I have a sneaking suspicion that Jimmy is unbeatable at Rock, Paper, Scissors. He is probably unbeatable at Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock too. 

So while the fans should sit back and bask in a stellar performance, I am glad that Jimmy has picked up on the obvious part of Strauss's quote. He knows that it is as important to be an effective bowler when conditions aren't right. 

That is what was so striking about the post-match interviews. Personally I would have been grabbing Boycott and snogging him in celebration, but Jimmy, while thrilled with his performance, was also clearly aware that relying on swing is not enough. I am sure that this match has given him and David Saker plenty to work on.