The new English season has begun!

OK, so the first action is against University sides, and these games are, admittedly, a relatively gentle way for counties to get the ball rolling. But there is some meaningful early season competitive action, the chance for first-class players to play themselves into form, and for young hopefuls to challenge the likes of Graeme Hick and a legion of England hopefuls like Robert Key and Steve Harmison.

Except that's not what these games are about. Not at all.

Full house at the cricket Photo CricInfo

The purpose of these games, if this weekend's papers are to believed, is to prove beyond all shadow of doubt that cricket – in particular the domestic variety - is a game not worthy of your attention. And, of course, to prove that you are quite clearly wrong to like this absorbing, addictive, infuriating, difficult, fabulous game.

A survey of the media over the last couple of weeks reveals at best indifference, at worst total contempt for what is still Britain's summer sport. Pre-season press coverage centres not upon the likely outcome of the forthcoming season, who are the players to watch and so on - but on how the game needs to change (again) to appeal as a spectator sport. And those – with a few notable exceptions - are the best articles.

It doesn't help when cricket decides to turn on itself. When such a venerable institution as Wisden decides to launch its new edition decrying the county game as "a confederacy of mediocracy", there is something very wrong. And Wisden's PR company must be delighted that this has dominated the pre-season agenda to such an extent that any positivity about the new season is extinguished before the start. Mike Atherton continues his anti-county crusade, claiming that "Championship cricket is dead."

Most heinous of all, The Observer offers its main editorial page to a columnist wishing the sport out of existence. He writes "It's no exaggeration to say that this sport – ha! – is hideous, cancrous, misguided and fundamentally evil ... it's everything that is wrong with England and the English."

That perception – however outlandish and immature - is more prevalent than the average cricket fan would like.

Go into a pub anywhere in Britain and ask them to put the cricket on, and you get the most curious of looks. If you do manage to achieve the impossible, the first demand for a meaningless Nationwide League football fixture will put an end to your enjoyment. Not so in an Aussie or South African themed bar where cricket sits comfortably alongside rugby as a spectator attraction. Not so in "Indian" restaurants where a mention of the latest game ensures well-informed conversation and even better service from the Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi staff.

Worse still if you drop into conversation (if you dare) that your favourite sport is cricket, and prepare for raised eyebrows. You're obviously a little strange, the sort of person who probably hasn't got many friends, always got put in goal at football in school, can't get a girlfriend and doesn't wash his hair that often. Not so if you like football or rugby. You're one of the lads, probably a bloody good bloke. Have a pint.

There's no doubt about it – cricket has a major image problem in the country of its birth. An image problem that is, more than any other factor, the biggest threat to the game in this country.

There is a massive difference between the perception and the facts, however inconvenient they are.

The fact that there is a legion of cricket lovers up and down the country who can't wait for the season to start is conveniently ignored. How many club players yesterday were slapping on the deep heat and strolling to the wicket for the first time this season, confident that this season will be the one? The fact that you'll struggle to get a ticket for a major international match this –or any - summer. The fact that when you go to Taunton, Canterbury or any of the summer Festivals for a Norwich Union League game, you need to get there early. The fact that more people watch first-class cricket in England and Wales than in all the other countries around the world put together. There, it's not that bad, is it?

Look at Somerset as an example, a beacon of hope for us all. Memberships are up this year, junior memberships have doubled. The pitches are the best in the country and there is a genuine – and productive - development policy embracing all points West. Vic Marks (in the same publication as our chief cynic quoted above) and Peter Anderson both fly the flag commendably for cricket in the face of adversity.

Cricket is an increasingly popular option for parents, concerned at the boorish and anti-social influence of football in particular. Parents and volunteers up and down the country put in countless hours to ensure the opportunity for children to enjoy cricket. Even at schools cricket is in a renaissance. The ECB delight in informing us that, in spite of the selling-off of playing fields, cricket is the fastest growing participation sport for schoolchildren. My club alone expects more than 100 kids for Colts registration next Saturday.

If we aren't careful, these keen kids will be met with the same sort of unremitting cynicism that we are so used to. Proof of how wrong they were to enjoy cricket in the first place. Another lost generation.

Let's face facts. Cricket is a great sport, enjoyed by millions. That's not to say that it doesn't have its problems or shouldn't evolve to increase its appeal or market itself better. But for cricket's sake, let's stop knocking it, be proud of this great game and prove the cynics wrong. Otherwise, who knows, the cynics might get their way and relieve us of this tedious and inconvenient sport once and for all. Then how much richer would we all be?

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