If we are to believe the 2002 edition of Wisden, county cricket is in crisis. The editor's notes, and an article "View from the sidelines" by Simon Heffer suggest that English first class cricket is "boring", "a confederacy of mediocrity", "soporific", "attritional", "irrelevant" and "nigh unwatchable". If that were not enough to put off the casual cricket fan contemplating a visit to the Oval on the opening day of the county championship, Wisden's editor suggests that "there are days when the players do not deserve the efforts of the ECB and the counties to keep them in employment". Mr Heffer is even more forthright saying that "it almost beggars belief that anybody should find (watching county cricket) a recreation preferable to say, sitting in his or her garden and watching the flowers grow".

With press like that it is a wonder that anyone would even contemplate going within ten miles of The Oval. However, being of an independent mind, I thought it might be worthwhile making the trip along Camberwell New Road and seeing for myself, especially with the lure of an invitation to lunch in The Oval dining room. I don't see much cricket these days, living in a country where it is very much a minority sport. So any day spent watching cricket is a joy to me (and preferable to watching flowers grow), even if, apparently, the spectacle was to fall far below the expected standard.

I arrived in time for the moving ceremony that marked the tragic passing of two fine young cricketers, Umer Rashid and Ben Hollioake. Along with the Surrey and Sussex players, the entire Surrey staff stood in front of the pavilion with heads bowed for two minutes before the start of play.

I started in the Laker stand, not the ideal vantage point when the wicket was pitched towards the far side of the ground. As play got under way I observed my fellow spectators, who had paid their five quid to join me. If I were to believe Mr. Heffer, "only the retired have the time, and then not always the inclination to watch such a contest". On a Friday morning, a normal work day, with schools in session, the variety of spectators surprised me. True, a gentleman who appeared old enough to be retired sat in front of me, with a young woman who was perhaps his grandaughter. They discussed the Surrey team, and remembered the last time they were at The Oval, when Ben Hollioake had made his maiden first-class century.

A mother sat with her young son, he watching the cricket avidly, she with a sketchbook. Behind me two young Australians discussed their summer plans, and watched with great amusement as Mark Butcher, after a couple of superb off-drives, left a ball that sent his off stump cartwheeling. That was the second wicket for James Kirtley, who apart from one loose over was coming in with great enthusiasm and pace, troubling all the batsmen (and for the record, from 90 yards away his action looks exemplary!). A father carried his disabled son to a seat, another carried his son's bat strapped to the lunch bag. To their regret, any practice on the outfield at lunch is now for some bizarre reason forbidden.

The crowd was sparse, although the pavilion was quite crowded. Perhaps 150 people were scattered around the stands at the start, doubling or tripling as the weather improved during the day.

I moved into the pavilion before lunch as a guest of the Green brothers, long time Surrey fans. From the front row of the balcony we watched Stewart and Ramprakash re-build the innings; no back-to-the-wall defence, but stirring strokes, keeping the scoreboard rattling along. Stewart was in prime form, stroking the ball with style, grace and timing, whilst Ramprakash struggled. The bowling, Kirtley apart, looked a little rusty, and it was a shock when Ramprakash was caught from a leg glance that went too fine.

That brought in Alistair Brown, in his benefit year. Brown loves to hit the ball, and hit it he did, unleashing a wonderful series of drives. He and Stewart scored at close to a run a ball, and it was a surprise when Stewart edged a simple catch on 99. The crowd stood as he returned to the pavilion, a well-deserved tribute. Nadeem Shahid has had limited chances for Surrey since moving from Essex, and was only in the side in the absence of Thorpe and Adam Hollioake. He took his chance, as he and Brown, in their contrasting styles, put the Sussex bowling to the sword. Shahid has an ungainly stance, crouched low over his bat, and moves all over the place before the ball is bowled. Bowl him a half-volley, however, and he can produce a classical cover drive, hitting the ball harder than Brown at times.

Entertainment consists of more than just runs and wickets. Spinner Davis was attempting to restrict the flow of runs by bowling to a tight field, angling the ball towards leg-stump. Shahid ventured an unconvincing reverse sweep that trickled past slip for a single. Next ball, Alistair Brown, as though to demonstrate to his partner how the shot should be played, switched hands and played an immaculate left-handed sweep to the third-man boundary. Adams moved a fielder to third man, and neither batsman bothered with the shot again.

Sussex fielded keenly in the face of the Surrey onslaught; keeper Prior led a sprint of close fielders to their new position at the end of every over. Adams kept one or two slips for the faster bowlers, but false shots were few, as the ball invariably seemed to meet the middle of the bat. The Oval crowd lapped it up, and in the late afternoon sunshine we rose to acknowledge first Ali Brown, and then Nadeem Shahid as they passed the three-figure mark. Shahid has had a difficult time in recent seasons, and his last first-class century was in 1998.

We're told by Wisden that "too many cricketers make it quite clear that they hate playing cricket". Shahid is clearly not one of them. His delight on scoring this century was apparent to all, as he punched the air, and gestured to the pavilion. When Brown reached 94, and came to face Davis, my two companions raised their cameras in anticipation - they'd seen Brown before and knew what to expect. One step down the wicket, and the ball skimmed over mid-off for a superb flat six, crashing into the wall at the base of the stands. Of the three big-innings, his was perhaps the most convincing, and it is strange, to say the least, that a strokemaker of this ability, with a first-class average in the forties, has never played a Test.

Sussex bowled their required 104 overs by 6.15. We'd seen 461 runs, countless boundaries, strokeplay to gladden the heart, passionate commitment, good competition, and perhaps the best entertainment you'll find for five pounds in London today. The bowling, Kirtley apart, was not the best, but the batting was as good as I've seen in 40 years of watching cricket. The influence of the overseas player was slight - Azhar Mahmood spent the day watching his new colleagues bat, and Murray Goodwin was somewhat anonymous in the field. The one centrally-contracted player on show, Mark Butcher, contributed little.

The Wisden writers have good points to make, and it might be unwise to use today's play as a barometer of the state of the first-class game. However, perhaps a wholesale condemnation of the county game is equally unwise, when it can produce a day of cricket like this. As we left our seats, a Surrey member behind us said: "Load of rubbish this county cricket, innit, dead boring, don't know why anyone bothers with it." We joined in his laughter, and headed home.

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