By Giles Wilson BBC News Online

The most famous cricket ground in the world is up for sale, square foot by square foot. Owning a piece opens up all sorts of possibilities. On a morning when late summer sunshine seemed to beckon you to have a seat, and when a crucial Test match was about to start, why wouldn't a cricket lover in London be heading to the Oval?

Because, perhaps, they were heading to Lord's, where there was not the remotest chance of seeing a game.

The times they are a-changing

Even if a match had been planned, the minor inconvenience of the pitch having been ploughed up would have put the kibosh on it.

The tractors at long off were not the only unusual sight. Oddest of all was the steady stream of the great unwashed being ushered by stewards on to the pitch and even on to the steps of the pavilion itself.

Lord's, the holy of holies of cricket, was suddenly humbled into a bargain price boot fair, where suddenly it didn't matter what tie you were wearing, just so long as you were clutching a ten pound note.

Innocent pleasure

In years gone by, spectators were permitted to go on to the field at the end of a Test match to see the presentation to the winning team - a thoroughly innocent pleasure which may well have inspired generations of young boys to take up the game.

The ultimate executive toy

Now the authorities have decided that doing so is a threat to the spirit of the game, an antisocial tendency which must be stopped, and threaten prosecution to anyone who even thinks about doing it.

So even the chance of putting a foot on the grass is a rare indulgence, even if it did resemble a muddy field.

The MCC is stripping all the clay-based surface from the outfield before relaying a more quick-draining sand-based one. The whole scheme is costing more than �1m, but it is hoped it will mean less play will be lost after rain.

MCC members have previously been given the first opportunity to buy a plot, and then this week the plebs were invited in. Here was my chance to have a bit of the action.

Turf's up

With my square foot of turf cut and placed inside a green pizza box with a certificate of authenticity signed by former England captain Ted Dexter, and the money handed over, the deed was done.

There was also a brief printed masterclass in lawn care from the ground staff, helpfully advising the correct mowing height in millimetres, but thankfully stopping short of recommending the light roller during tea.

History

And that was it - I had my bit of Lord's. Who knows what action might have taken place on that particular clod? Could Graham Gooch have fired a boundary across my little bit on his way to his record-breaking 333?

Could this have been where Bradman scored his highest total, 254, saying afterwards: "Every ball went exactly where I wanted it to go until the ball that got me out"?

Michael Angelow, over the wicket

Come to that, could Michael Angelow - the UK's first streaker in cricket, whose performance in 1975 led commentator John Arlott to say: "Not very shapely, and it's masculine" - have debagged himself on that spot? To be honest, I rather hope not.

Any number of marvellous things might have happened on the spot. It's a belief the MCC is actively encouraging, saying that much of the turf being sold came originally from the club's earliest ground in Dorset Square.

To save you the bother of looking it up, the MCC was based there in 1787, nearly 100 years before the first Test match at Lord's. I don't know much about the lifespan of a bit of grass, but I somehow suspect my bit of grass has precious little to do with 1997 let alone 1787. But it's a nice idea.

Eye on the future

Cricket however must not live in the past. It's important to look to the future. So what is ahead for my bit of grass?

A few hours after it was uprooted, it found a new home in the middle of my lawn at home, where it will receive an almost unhealthy amount of attention.

My turf's new home, planted and watered and a bit yellow

Watering, feeding, mowing, weeding; nothing will be too good for it.

And who knows what children, one day, may be taught to take guard on that spot by an overcompetitive dad?

Who knows what fantasy field adjustments will be dreamt up?

Who knows what bidding wars I will be able to stoke between potential purchasers of my house?

That's all to come. For the present I shall enjoy the simple pleasures. Such as walking on my pitch at the end of a Test match without risking arrest. And inviting my friends to do the same.

Streakers however note: you are not welcome.