Don’t get me wrong, I love sport. I loved it long before the London Olympics. I’ve loved it since I was a clumsy little girl.

But, I just don’t understand cricket. I can admire it, and respect cricketers as true athletes, but even after a decade living down here in Cricket heaven, I still don’t really understand the rules, or why they bother at all.

I get the concepts – overs, unders, wickets, runs – it’s the scoring I can’t wrap my brain around. I just don’t care enough to learn the rules – life is too short to understand what a score of something like 436 for 3 actually means. What’s that about? Each season I feign interest with colleagues who perk up from their desks every so often asking what the latest score is. I gain kudos by repeating parrot style what’s just been reported – but if someone asked me to break it down any further I’d be stumped. See what I did there?

My idea of hell is travelling with a cricket fanatic colleague on a long car journey – I’ve been known to fake a kidney infection just to make us stop at more services so I can get a break from it.

I may be a philistine but life is too short for cricket.