Other distinguished older figures have also cast aspersions on the standard of second eleven cricket and they may have a case - but it raises another issue. By implication they remember the second XI as a tougher and more dynamic breeding ground when they were in situ, and the general belief that ``cricket was better then'' permeates all levels. The sport's historical legacy and its phoney associations with good behaviour and Golden Ages seem to prompt perennial laments that the game is in decline. The mythical reminiscence of childhood, a lost paradise that immortalises people and events, enhances this misapprehension.

There is a word for rambling on about the past in a mushy sort of way. Nostalgia. It's a mainly British phenomenon (though the French do go on about la Belle Epoque) dwelling in the subconscious and deceiving you into thinking that everything was so sublime in your salad days, life was less angst ridden and sportsmen were more gifted. Pub conversations, old books, cuttings, even faded autographs bring on this sentimental state which becomes so deep rooted it can't be removed without surgery. ``Ah, such a glorious summer, Gower batting and not a cloud in the sky for weeks,'' you say looking at a photo taken on a day out at Lord's, conveniently forgetting that England were annihilated by the West Indies, you failed French A-level and got stung by a jellyfish at Broadstairs.

The urge to fantasise is so strong in the male gene, it's remarkable no one thought to establish a Nostalgia Party for the General Election. Englishmen never entirely escape Dreamland: young ones close their eyes and wish, old mourn and reminisce.

But what is the reality? Has second XI cricket really gone to the dogs? My first recollection of the reserve team was seeing a dismissed Surrey batsman disappearing into the long grass beyond the boundary in Bushy Park to cavort semi-naked with a girl, and it never seemed to be quite the hard task school or the hotbed of talent that people seem now to imagine.

Sure, Sussex's second XI on one occasion contained Javed Miandad, Kepler Wessels and Garth le Roux, but then Middlesex last week had Mike Gatting and Phil Tufnell turning out at Southgate against Gloucester seconds (admittedly not a common state of affairs).

Gatting had a battery of impressive fast bowlers to rotate, all lively and most well over six feet, and was in full voice to maintain discipline and concentration. This was nothing like the often lacklustre atmosphere I can recall or the tendency to lark about when the coach's back was turned.

All the batting side watched the game intently rather than lounge about looking at porn in the dressing room while Tufnell, something of a professional 12th man these days, delivered a demanding spell. On an adjacent pitch, a surplus fast bowler, Ricky Fay, was endeavouring to shed some unwanted podginess with a severe 90-minute work-out.

County committees gather soon to discuss next years contracts, but despite their uncertain future, most of the Gloucester 'trialists' batted without inhibition and Matthew Church's century was outstanding, as was the Middlesex catching. On the sidelines were physios, coaches a-plenty, the Middlesex chairman and his minions. About the only suggestion of second-class status was the sight of fielders poking about in undergrowth trying to find the ball.

The second XI match John Hampshire umpired was in early June (also involving Middlesex), the one I saw was in mid July. This may be significant.

Students and promising schoolboys are available now, coinciding with out-of-form first-teamers being politely requested to go away and regain their confidence. So in July and August especially, second eleven cricket has real merit. At other times, some coaches scrape the bottom of the barrel to get a team. Rather than scrapping this level entirely as some prescribe, installing an intensive eight-week second eleven programme in mid summer would suffice. Might stick in the memory better too...