Hallaton entertained Harborough Taverners yesterday. The home team won by ten wickets on what is without doubt one of the most beautifully situated grounds in Leicestershire. At the top end of the village, the surrounding fields and woods fall away to the north and east; Horninghold church spire catching the fluctuating light every few minutes amongst the dark trees, the cloud shadows scudding quickly over Fearn Hill and crowning hilltop spinneys. Is there a more perfect way to while away a Sunday afternoon? I was, of course, found staring meaningfully at the rusty roller and motioned towards the pavilion. There was a tea laid out the like of which I have never seen before. A plate was piled up for me with cakes, topped out with three meringues. I ran off with it to a remote part of the outfield. So you can see I absorbed all the finer points of the match. But I have to say I much prefer this bucolic scene complete with correct cricket whites, rather than those disgraceful exhibitions of vile coloured sponsored lycra that appears to be the way it's going in the professional game. Bring back Len Hutton I say.