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The words ‘cricket’ and ‘Jonathan Agnew’ have become synonymous to cricket lovers, and there can be no better guide to the evolution of the modern game.

It is a big story that deserves – and, in these pages, has – a sure guide.

By 1930, although cricket had matured from the country-house pastime of the pre-Grace years, it was still far from the game we know today. Since then, many more countries have entered the Test arena, and the administration of the game has passed into professional hands and away from gifted amateurs. Out-of-date class distinctions on the field have faded away – but only slowly, with reluctance – and the top-class game has become fully professional. New and shorter forms of cricket have emerged to attract millions of new supporters, alongside the grumbling disapproval of traditionalists.

To them, and to most cricket lovers, the spirit of the game – the way in which it is played – has always been at the heart of its charm. It is a rude shock when controversy enters the arena, and far worse when corruption is uncovered.

Jonathan Agnew’s story begins with the Ashes series of 1932–3. It was on-field cricket at its most distasteful, as the English fast-bowling attack targeted ‘bodyline’ bowling at the Australian batsmen instead of their stumps. It was an unscrupulous tactic to curb the mammoth run scoring of Don Bradman. Today, with television tracking every ball, such a tactic would never survive, but ‘bodyline’ soured a whole series and scarred cricket.

Later, the English cricketing authorities – with an arrogance that, eighty years on, is scarcely believable – ordered Harold Larwood, their fast-bowling spearhead, to apologise. Larwood was entirely right to refuse, saying that he was upholding the instructions of his team captain, Douglas Jardine. But Jardine was a ‘gentleman’ and Larwood was not – and so it was he who was pilloried. It was, in every way, an ugly and shameful episode.

As a fast bowler, Larwood was one of the heroes that cricket throws up in every generation: their reputation becomes enshrined in the folklore of the game, and lasts long after they have left the field of play. Among the most cherished names, Bradman and Sobers may stand alone on their pedestal, but I fancy Shane Warne might one day join them on it. Most of these great cricketers are a credit to the game.

But not all: some heroes have revealed a dark side and been seduced and corrupted by money. Their names need not be repeated here but match-fixing poses a threat the authorities cannot ignore. Some cricket authorities have reacted vigorously to curtail this evil – but all need to do so. The ‘Spirit of Cricket’ is important to lovers of the game, and where that is flouted, they may turn away in disgust. The extent of corruption induced by betting scams is unknowable but, if it is tolerated by any authority, the damage will be acute.

Over recent decades, cricket has been broadcast to a global audience by radio and television. To the avid listener or viewer, the players representing teams on the far side of the world have become as familiar as the stars of their own country. The media coverage is comprehensive, and generally superb.

But cricket is more than a game. For countless millions, it is part of their lives, and given added drama and charm by the skill of the broadcasters. For me, cricket has always been pure pleasure when described by the likes of Rex Alston, John Arlott or Brian Johnston and – more recently – Henry Blofeld, Christopher Martin-Jenkins and the author of this book, Jonathan Agnew – that valuable hybrid of Test cricketer and professional broadcaster. Their sheer love of the game – and the romanticism, sentiment and sheer fun of it that they impart – has woven them into the warp and weft of cricket: it would be sad, indeed, if the contributions of such men were banished from the game.

And, to this observer, that seems a risk. Increasingly, the commentators and summarizers of top-class cricket are former eminent Test players. I welcome their arrival at the microphone because, to this particular cricket lover, they have added an extra dimension of understanding about the game. Their contribution is unique – but I hope it will never be exclusive: a mixture of broadcasters, cricketers and writers may offer the best depiction of the game to listeners and viewers.

In its infancy, cricket spread outwards from England as the British Empire was built. It took root and, as it did so, ceased to be an English game; each country played it in their own distinctive style. As the game spreads further, the focused aggression of the Australians; the Caribbean swagger of the West Indies; the suppleness of the Indians, may yet be joined by the national characteristics of the Afghans and the Chinese. If so, cricket will be the stronger for it.

The question that now arises is – whither cricket? The present growth of the game suggests confidence about its future from the grass roots upwards, with one reservation. The huge appeal of the shorter forms of the game – and the huge money-spinner it has become – means that cricket at the very highest level, five-day Test cricket, must be protected and cherished. It is, to my mind, the finest expression of the game, the peak of its art and, if it were diminished – or even crowded out – by mercenary considerations, then the game itself would surely suffer.

In its long history, cricket has been blessed with great literature: no game has ever attracted so many authors, or so much magnificent writing. In this book, Jonathan Agnew adds to this great canon, and draws on it to illustrate the evolutionary changes of recent decades.

This book is for every lover of cricket who wishes to dig deeper into the history of the game, through the words and sentiments of those who shared – or still share – their passion for it.

March 2013