I HAVE long enjoyed sport, without ever having done anything to actively pursue this passion.

Occasionally Match of the Day arrives on the television on a Sunday evening and for an hour Chappers and the boys are entertaining company.

Two years ago my mum traded in some of her Nectar Points in return for tickets to England vs Barbarians at Twickenham and a solid family day out. Beyond that my sporting experience had been, until last weekend, limited.

On Sunday morning this all changed. Fresh from a full three hours broken sleep on the sofa of a bedsit overlooking the Etihad, I jumped on a crowded tram and headed to Old Trafford, on the geographical and spiritual other end of Manchester.

What is noticeably better about watching cricket than other sports is the atmosphere.

From multiple BBC3 documentaries and screenings of Green Street, I understand that football fans are angry, drunk people, rugby fans are also drunk, but dull, and golf fans inexplicable. The cricket contingent however, are great.

Within the first ten minutes I had been lulled into conversation by a couple as a man nearby flapped open a Telegraph and unwrapped a Twix. A big family passed around a packet of Kettle Chips. All very pleasant yes, but the precursor to some top quality crowd based antics later on.

Much as James Anderson does not simply pick up a ball and grab a wicket, cricket crowds are want to start slowly, tossing a few mid-length balls and having a baguette before hurling in a yorker. By 2pm, with England making their best attempt to squander a seemingly insurmountable lead, the Foster’s Party Stand began to live up to its horrible name. ‘Moeen, Moeen, give us a wave’ we cheered to our spin bowling hero as fans from across the bleachers began stacking empty beer cups to form a huge snake. One man throw a baggy hat frisbee style onto the head of a camera man, and the crowd erupted. All this, and you can bring your own packed lunch.

Tickets to England versus the West Indies can be bought at www.ecb.co.uk