During Cup Final Grandstand in 1979, the impish Des Lynam set viewers a riddle. What is brought to the FA Cup Final every year, but never used? I thought about that on the way to Broadhalfpenny Down for the last game of the Brigands season, after the hottest summer on record and the first I can remember without a ball lost to rain. In my bag was my valued Brigands sleeveless sweater. I have carried it to every game this year and haven't used it once. As a boy I loved Cup Fina

England have just beaten Pakistan 3-0, a Test series settled with the efficiency of an operation that travels with more support staff than players: analysts, a spin coach, a nutritionist, somebody employed to deliver throwdowns. The modern professional just has to turn up and play. At Broadhalfpenny Down this week, it was different; most of the players had other jobs to do. The occasion was the 250th anniversary of the third stump. In 1775 Chertsey's Edward "Lumpy" Stevens b

The visitors lived up to their name, sauntering onto Broadhalfpenny Down seemingly carefree that they had arrived without an umpire, scorer (nor even a conventional scorebook!) or a full team – the 11th man arriving half an hour adrift. So the hosts,accommodating as ever, supplied the missing officials and let the Optimists bat first, hoping they would at least rally to make a good game of an unpromising start. A limited overs match was agreed and the visitor’s opener D Fox

Two hundred and fifty years ago, the forebears of the Brigands were arguing about whether to introduce a third stump, while the forebears of the Butterflies were fighting over America. In August 1776, the Hambledon Club were debating matters across the road at the Bat and Ball; the two-stump wicket had been letting bowlers down for years, and a third stump was agreed on the grounds that it would shorten the game. At the same time, politicians who had progressed from one of th

At the end-of-season dinner at the Rose Bowl marking the Brigands' golden jubilee in 2009, chairman John Musters announced the batting prize like this: "At 16 years old, the future of the club is in the hands of players like Jake Peach; and what's more he has younger twin brothers - so who knows, in four or five years' time we might have father and all three sons playing together in the same side!" He was right about everything except the timescale. It took another 17 years,

On the final morning at Headingley in July 1948, England declared on 365-8 and set Australia 404 to win in 345 minutes. Nobody had ever chased 400 to win a Test match. The pitch was worn, taking spin and bounce, and England had run the heavy roller over it for good measure. The Yorkshire papers had Australia out by lunch. Instead Arthur Morris made 182, Don Bradman 173 not out, the pair added 301 in a little over three and a half hours, and Australia won by seven wickets with

Noah Mann lived near Petworth and made shoes for a living. He was born in Sussex in 1756, and every Tuesday through the summer he rode 20 miles to Broadhalfpenny Down to practise, then 20 miles home again. Left-handed, a powerful hitter, he swung the ball and could pick a handkerchief off the turf at full gallop. There was no such thing as Hambledon against Sussex in his day; "Hampshire & Sussex" was simply what the rest of the country called the Hambledon Club. Mann played 5

To paraphrase Oscar Wilde: for Brigands to field ten men once might be considered a misfortune. To do it two matches running looks like carelessness. At Broadhalfpenny Down on Wednesday, thanks to a printer issue of all things, ten Brigands took the field against eleven from Whitchurch, the visitors marking 250 years and welcoming back Hampshire and MCC wicketkeeping favourite Paul Bailey. Whitchurch won the toss and invited the home side to bat. Sue Bailey and Peter Danks se

The Stragglers of Asia are perhaps the best-travelled side on the Brigands' fixture list, so we turn to the author Pete McCarthy for guidance. In his 2000 book about a journey round Ireland, McCarthy set down a numbered list of Rules of Travel; never given in full, the numbers jumping about, which was the joke. He died in 2004, aged fifty-two, with a third book unfinished. The Brigands have taken his list and revised it. A good number were observed on Sunday, and one of them