THOSE earliest memories of following county cricket came piqued by the omnipresent Test matches that filled the endless school holidays.

The sadly departed Richie Benaud provided that gentle soundtrack as I sat with the curtains drawn to hide the glare and tried to come to terms with the baffling terminology and inability to concentrate for such prolonged periods of time.

I had embraced Sunderland football club through familial necessity, it was never a conscious choice, and now scoured Ceefax page 340 for the geographical equivalent.

I found myself with a passing interest in Yorkshire, although to my junior school self that felt too remote, like deciding on a favourite city in a country you’d never visited.

Durham’s arrival as a First Class county marked the end of junior school and at least that Ceefax obsession now had some focus, even if attending a game with disinterested parents was beyond unlikely.

Fast forward to Durham membership and the all encompassing nature of following cricket away from actually attending games has come a lifetime from that earliest squinting at unfamiliar names in unfamiliar cities all those years ago.

How many of us now felt their smartphone vibrate at the fall of every wicket at Taunton or grimly refreshed Twitter as they pessimistically expected a fourth innings collapse while chasing a small total?

The impromptu bonds built up on social media but especially Twitter with people you’ve never met are now as much part of the distance following experience, especially when you consider quite how niche county cricket has become.

So whether it be the BBC’s excellent online radio coverage which seems to come against all odds and perhaps wider interest or that perennial battle over scrutinising county scores while distracted by ups and downs of England.

Indeed that almost paternal interest in Durham players away with their country can take on ridiculous lengths.

I can’t have be alone in stopping most things during the First Test as soon as Ben Stokes came out to bat, watching through concerned fingers and then sighing resignedly when he was eventually dismissed.

Trying to objectively assess a player who you feel represents you personally on some abstract level is difficult.

Undoubtedly, his running battle with Marlon Samuels in the second Test was enjoyable in a fiercely competitive two fingers up to the spirit of cricket kind of way, but there were times when you sat there hoping he just didn’t look silly.

Bad we can cope with but not silly.

Both England and Durham matches you don’t attend can become all encompassing as you feed on each snippet of information, defining the procrastination of the working day.

That rhythm of the summer though, of free to air games on the BBC, is now a thing of the past and you have to wonder from just where that next generation of fans will come, aside from those households able to afford Sky Sports.

Even then, with so much choice, would there be that sense of being entranced by the strange demarcation of each summer holiday by what was at first strange and then reassuring.

This may concern you but then you’re already reading a column on county cricket; you’ve already been bitten by the bug.

With floodlights now an absolute necessity for Durham’s long term future, this is a vital few years for cricket in general to capture an audience.

The gentle intonations of Richie Benaud may now be confined to history, a symbol of gentler, quieter age, but whatever form attracts the next generation to cricket, their own defining rhythm to the summer must begin.

JAMES TIERNAN