I wrote a column in The Times during the cricket World Cup in April about how I still don’t understand the game, despite living in England for eight years. I hammered the traditions that cricket-lovers adore and said that as far as I was concerned, cricket was nothing more than a type of grasshopper.

Next thing I know, I’ve got the MCC on the phone. Yes, Marylebone Cricket Club, the daddies of the entire sport. To my surprise, they’re not up in arms but are actually fans of my column and the chief executive wants to invite me to Lord’s to watch a Twenty20 game. And he’s offered to sit with me and explain it all!

So, after Friday afternoon’s golf with the Fulham lads (we’re working very hard in preseason, I promise — it was a recovery session . . .) I headed to Lord’s.

Now the chief executive is a gentleman by the name of Keith Bradshaw and I was pretty surprised to find he’s Australian. Given the relationship between England and Australia in cricket, that’s a bit like Lothar Matthäus becoming the chairman of the FA. But he was a very nice man nonetheless, as were all the people that me and my girlfriend met in the chairman’s box.

Right away we were greeted by the president and his wife — a very nice lady who really looked after us — and the next thing I know I’ve got a glass of Pimm’s in my hand. Having been to Wimbledon last week and suspiciously turned it down, this time I had no option but to try it. It’s a bit sweet, and with all the fruit and veg floating around it’s like a meal in a glass. But I have to say, I quite liked it — a nice change to my usual tipple of hot milk and honey.

There was no mistaking that we were in the poshest part of a place that is pretty posh to start with. If there was such a thing as a halfway line in cricket, we’d have been right on it. With that in mind, I’m glad I wore my shirt and pink tie and for once didn’t get any stick for it because Middlesex (who were playing Essex) wore pink shirts in support of a breast cancer campaign, so everyone thought I was just showing the love.

I also wore my lucky white Panama hat — I assumed cricket was a game where everyone wore hats, on and off the pitch. But on Friday I seemed to be the only one in the entire ground with one on.

We were by far the youngest in the chairman’s box — I think we dramatically lowered the average age, although after week one of preseason I’m not sure anyone would have noticed. I feel about 65 at the moment, so goodness knows what I must look like. I also felt a bit ignorant because even though I knew we were surrounded by some of the most senior and knowledgeable cricket people around, I still had absolutely no idea who any of them were.

I missed the kick-off because I was too busy adjusting my hat-and-tie combo, but as I was there to learn, I soon started asking questions, unaware of how silly they sounded. Example — which one of the two guys in the jackets is the referee? Answer — both. What do you call the little sticks on top of the big sticks and what happens when they fall down? Answer — the bails, and that’s the point.

After watching the first 15 minutes with great excitement and focus, I soon realised that you don’t have to be glued to every single move as you would be with football. In fact the cricket seemed almost secondary — it’s actually more about having a drink and a chat as far as I could work out. The president’s wife continued to introduce us to lots of people and most of the guests seemed to know as little about football as I did about cricket. But a few seemed to know who I was (or they politely pretended they did) and were asking questions about what I do. I didn’t know the answer to any of them because I’m not entirely sure myself, but that’s another subject.

Thanks to all the explanations and insights, I have a bit more of an idea about how cricket works now. Mind you, this was a Twenty20 game, which I understand to be different from a Test match — that’s the purest form of the game and lasts for five days, so it’s the total opposite of what I saw. I still don’t get why it’s called a Test match though. I’m sure the name has no real relevance. But I’m German and I don’t get things like that. And despite my newfound appreciation for cricket, I’ve got to say, five days of it would still be a bit of a challenge.

It was a close game but unfortunately Middlesex (who I was supporting — partly because of my pink tie and partly because I lived in Middlesex when I first signed for Arsenal) lost on the second-to-last ball. But there was no burning of the stumps at the end. Apparently that’s not what you do in this kind of game.

Thanks to all at the MCC for having me, I had a really enjoyable evening. I think I’m on to something here, so I’m going to start writing about my ignorance of other sports and wait for the invites to come flooding in. If anyone of influence is reading this, I know very little about Formula One — especially the Monaco Grand Prix.