With three shuttles an hour, the franc at 9.80 to the pound and Calais having such copious quantities of the essentials it seemed such a natural thing to do. Throw in the added bonus of the time difference, I could leave the French warehouse at 11 and still be back in time for the first ball.

Surely anyone could see the merits of this plan. ``KISS'' had been the secret of success in the army - keep it simple stupid, and this was simplicity itself. 8.51 shuttle, 9.30 arrivi Calais, 9.45 wine warehouse, 11.00 shuttle, 10.50 arrivi chez moi. Kettle, twiglets, morning session.

All went swimmingly, so to speak, until having been ``completing our final checks'' for some 20 minutes in Folkestone the dreaded announcement ``nous regrettons ...''

My already tight timetable was being squeezed to its limits. To cut a long story and my search for the ultimate white Burgundy short, I found myself at 10.55, English time, losing all semblance of control in Calais. Le Shuttle was indeed singular as due to a technical fault they were only running one per hour.

I was rapidly being enveloped by a familiar red mist as the true helplessness of my position sunk in. Miles, almost fathoms, from my rightful spot. The armchair, remote at the ready. I was stuck in a car full of wine with no corkscrew.

Like the idiot I am I didn't remember Radio 4 longwave and Test Match special until just after 11.00. It was like a comforting blanket of Englishness; John Agnew merrily informing the listeners of what looked like a particularly nasty shower sweeping in from the Vale of Belvoir, Bill Frindall effortlessly plucking statistics from nowhere, and somehow most comforting of all, Trevor Bailey, being, well, Trevor Bailey.

Fortunately the Euro tunnel engineers were on top form and just as Trevor was berating the selectors and adding up the number of players who had represented England, or been in the squad, this summer, we boarded and I lost the signal. Despite flicking to 98 point something to listen to Radio Le Shuttle, with ``music and information'', there were no score updates from Nottingham during the crossing. I eventually cleared the Folkestone terminal just in time to hear 'Blowers' take us to the one o'clock shipping forecast and got home none the wiser.

I had not had time to read Wednesday's papers and took advantage of the lunch break to catch up with the news. As should be the habit of all floundering would be journalists I turned immediately to 'Personally Speaking', the column so eloquently penned by one of the Daily Telegraph's elder statesmen E W Swanton. Despite a 60-year age gap which conjures up the odd difference of opinion I respect Jim's views enormously. On this occasion, however, Jim has waved the red rag so provocatively that I feel I must play the bull to his matador.

To write ``in the scramble for players, salaries would continue to rise, probably sharply; hence the support of the Professional Cricketers Association'' when discussing the cons and cons of a two divisional structure for championship cricket suggests that the PCA and their members are purely financially motivated.

THIS is unfair. I would be lying if I said that players wages, and just as importantly their overall package, was not of significance to us. It is however not the be all and end all. The PCA fully understand that they are merely a temporary custodian of the great game of cricket, and that their members can only improve their circumstances as long as the game as a whole evolves, improves, and ultimately flourishes.

Jim, the PCA, and all cricket lovers I suspect, want the same thing: a vibrant, healthy game and a successful national team. Our final destination is therefore the same, our chosen routes however differ widely.

Our yearning for change, foolhardy and reckless though it may seem to some, is not driven by greed but by the very real desire to achieve that same goal. The fact that the PCA are taking the high road to Jim's low road should not make us gluttons. We have debated this responsibly and at length. We are not greedy villains. Indeed if we have committed a crime it is just to disagree.