The summer of 2024 has been the bleakest, most essentially irrelevant English cricket season of the modern age; it feels like a step change, a moment that it really did become obviously beta.
Even if it is only temporary, any kind of good thing is worth celebrating as the domestic cricket season retreats towards October, nourished only by autumnal clips.
Here comes the English summer again, the corpse by the swimming pool, carted about the place just to keep the show going, feet dragging along the floor.
It seems safe to say now, there has been a Weekend at Bernie's air to it all at times, with an almost mythic sense of decline.
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