For sports fans, the next few weeks in the UK are not so much a feast as an exercise in gluttony, with some of the greatest sporting spectacles coming thick and fast in quick succession – Wimbledon, The Open golf tournament, the Ashes.
For those who are sufficiently well connected (and well-heeled), getting a ticket to the match itself is merely the beginning. Unknown a few decades ago, corporate hospitality is the boom industry in modern sport, bringing more than a billion pounds into the British economy.
Just think, no more jostling with the proletariat at the turnstiles, no queuing for the toilets, no sitting in the broiling sun or pouring rain while the person next to you puts your eye out with their brolly or deposits sunscreen on your new trousers as he struggles to remove the childproof cap.
Instead, sheer luxury. Luxury seats, luxury waiter service and luxury TV screens, so you can watch the game without leaving the dessert trolley. The whole package is enormously tempting; just as long as you’ve got upwards of £1,000 (Dh5,800) to spare.
I had my first taste of this rarefied lifestyle last month when I was offered a ticket to a VIP box at Lord’s for the England- New Zealand match.
“You’ll have the best time,” my sponsor assured me. “Only trouble is, once you’ve sampled it you’ll never want to go back to slumming it in the cheap seats.”
He was right. Sitting squashed in row Z at the back of the Mound Stand was never like this. Arriving at the ground just before start of play, I was saluted at every staircase by grinning commissionaires, each of whom seemed to find a deep fascination in opening the door for me and ensuring I found my seat.
And what a seat it was. An uninterrupted view of the ground, with nobody obscuring my view. Indeed, such was my vantage point, I felt I could have almost leant over the rail and offered Ian Bell a boiled sweet as he took his guard.
But that was just the start. The Sunday of my visit produced one of the greatest passages of play seen at the ground in recent years, including runs, wickets, a big hundred for Alistair Cook, and the fastest-ever century on the ground from young Ben Stokes, who announced his arrival on the international scene by bludgeoning the Kiwi bowlers to all points of the compass – and whose efforts had the crowd standing in delirium, and opposition captain, Brendon McCullum, nodding his head in rueful approbation. No wonder everyone went home happy.
Well, nearly everyone. I somehow managed to miss virtually the whole innings. Not that I meant to – there were just too many distractions. Sandwiches, pastries, cooling drinks and a stream of convivial badinage with my fellow guests.
During the lunch hour we were treated to a three-course sit-down lunch that went from the official break well into the afternoon. Something special was going on out on the field of play – you could tell that from the cheers drifting in on the breeze. But by now the box was filling up with people drifting in from adjoining boxes, including several ex-titans of the game, childhood heroes whom I’d watched many times at this very ground. For much of the evening session I sat open-mouthed, listening to their yarns from their playing days. By the time I’d thrown in a few showbiz anecdotes of my own and swapped calling cards with a head of an international travel firm and who said he’d be happy to help me get upgraded for my next overseas holiday, the shadows were lengthening. I left the ground exhausted and several pounds heavier.
When my wife asked me back at home if I’d enjoyed the cricket, I had to phrase my reply with immense care so as not to perjure myself.
I wouldn’t have missed my day in the sun. But with The Ashes fast approaching, next time I think I’ll stick to sitting down in the stands with everyone else.
It may not such a good view but I’ll have a better chance of seeing the cricket.
Michael Simkins is an actor and writer who lives in London
On Twitter: @michael_simkins