The dream is over. A last minute goal has put an end to Bristol City’s play off ambitions. Now that the major unresolved issue in this year’s football season has been put to bed, we can concentrate on the cricket.

While I await the call from Gary Johnson asking me to bolster his defence for next season (I am sure I have seen the scouts hovering at our 5 -a-side warm-ups), the 2009 cricket campaign is lurching into action.

The traditional curtain raiser at Lord’s has been and gone, and the even more traditional downpours have also made their presence felt. Cricketers up and down the country are trembling in anticipation of six months of sun-kissed afternoons, filled with fifties, hundreds, five-fers and diving one-handers.

Pristine kit has been lovingly folded, new bats meticulously knocked in, and every fast bowler’s boots contain (for the only point in the season) their full complement of studs. Umpires have perfected their repertoire of signals in their bedroom mirrors, scorers have refilled their pencil case with a myriad of flashy new coloured pens.

How many stinking decisions, dropped catches, or disgusting egg sandwiches will it take for you to change your mind this year?

Even the tea ladies are desperate to unleash their secret new recipe on the ravenous players. Pity the poor tea Ladies at Reman Services CC in Shropshire, who have to feed undoubtedly the heaviest team in world cricket.

At this point in the year, optimism is at it’s highest. Friday nights mean dreams of the thinnest edge flying into the keeper’s gloves, or a crunching drive hitting the ropes before the fielder can even move.

For now, at least, cricket is the greatest sport in the world. How many stinking decisions, dropped catches, or disgusting egg sandwiches (who really eats them?) will it take for you to change your mind this year? Good luck to everyone for the season ahead (not you, opposition batsmen). Let’s hope the rain stays away and we can all enjoy the summer. And Gary Johnson – if you are reading this – my phone is on!