This is the night before a big match. We are playing Melbourne Cricket Club XXIX tomorrow, weather permitting. It is our Ashes. They are here to watch some Test cricket and to play some cricket of their own. We played them in a T20 in 2013 and now we have graduated to a full afternoon match.

A huge part of the fun of friendly village club cricket is this anticipation of a game. For a start, we always play better in our imaginations than on the day itself.

Cricket is a game of anticipation. As a batsman, bowler, fielder, captain, any player is constantly anticipating what others might do and how, in the light of that, the player can help their team win the match.

My three rallying cries to the club in an email earlier this week encouraged players to turn up on time, to wear club kit, and to field aggressively, going for run-outs. Joe Root, I imagine, made much the same points before the First Test in the Ashes.

Last year, we played Goodwood, from Adelaide. I made more points but they were largely ignored, so I have reduced my message this year to its essentials. One context in which the performance matched the anticipation in 2018 was when our club vice-captain, Tim House, ran out their star batsman with a direct hit from cover.

The main parallel with bigger institutions where I have worked is that the character of a community is revealed on its high days – such as graduations at universities or match days when I have been on the board of professional sporting clubs or performances when I have been on the boards of theatres and a ballet company.

It is difficult to imagine a chancellor or vice-chancellor, a rugby professional, an actor or a ballerina turning up late or in the wrong kit, but graduands and their families, spectators and audience members are occasionally late.

Yet what exactly is it that players and supporters are anticipating on the eve of these big occasions? Anyone who has watched a game against Australians at Middleton Stoney will be anticipating the fish and chip van which traditionally takes the place of our barbecue. The tourists tend to come in an executive coach which eventually has to leave after hours of reflection on the game. When the match starts at 2, ends shortly after 7 and the coach leaves at midnight, it will be clear that every minute of the game receives a minute of analysis.

The home club’s supporters who have survived that long tend to wave exuberantly and then return to the pavilion for further reflection. The grainy photo above shows this wave of euphoria after the game v Sydney Cricket Ground in 2015. The skipper’s role, in cricket and beyond, in the run-up to a big day is to encourage the players to give of their best, individually and collectively, without being over-awed by the occasion. If we play tomorrow with the exuberance on show after our matches against touring Australians, we can anticipate an historic day.