Richie Benaud's final commentary in England too. A special moment itself, a remarkable man, beloved in Australia and England.

The summer of 2005 was simply overwhelming, a perilous journey to the greatest of prizes. Highs, lows and utterly nail-biting cricket. Made all the sweeter when I travelled to Australia in early 2006, resplendent in my Ashes winning t-shirt, the scores from each Test emblazoned across my back alongside the team. The same shirt made an appearance when playing in a 5-a-side "friendly" football match in Perth. A friendly natured bunch of local lads, my purpling shins at the culmination of the match confirming such, greeted me with much good cheer from the Aussies along with plenty of "we'd have done the same mate, good on ya" and several congratulatory beers for sticking it to the Aussies as they would have to us Poms.

My 2005 Ashes memory will always be of crowding around a tiny TV in a tiny room on a light vessel converted into an activity centre. It was the final day at The Oval and two weeks into my gap year. Somehow the moment of mathematical victory occurred in the only break we had during the day and we cheered so loudly we had to explain to the visiting school group who were quietly studying on the deck above us what had happened.

In the Test where Jones and Giles chased down the total. We were playing at Datchet CC, a local rival, and I was captain of Cranbourne CC. I was at the wicket batting and the Datchet players were all trying to see the clubhouse TV when I suggested to the DCC captain that pause the game and watch the run chase, he couldn't believe my offer but we did go in and watched the end after which we came back out and chased down their score. My best decision in 15 years of captaincy

I remember being out for the finale of the Edgbaston Test. As a skint 15-year-old, I had to be very economical about my 10p messages when requesting updates from my mates who were also on a tight text messaging budget. It was an excruciating afternoon of messages sent sparingly, but received as though they contained national secrets. Agonising waits between messages! None of us obviously thought to top up though. A great summer.

We went on holiday the final morning of the Edgbaston Test, which was a Sunday. I begged my father to give church a miss just this once so we could listen in the car. He opined that it was going to be over in a few balls anyway, so we wouldn’t be missing much. We attended the service at Durham Cathedral and I was squirming throughout. Ran to the car and got back in just in time to hear the commentator saying “if you’re just turning your radio on, you’ve missed probably the most extraordinary Test match in the history of cricket”. I was displeased. A few years later I also met the person who gave the sermon that morning and admonished him for making me miss the cricket (my opening line of “I remember a sermon of yours…” produced the startled and worried look that it usually does on clergy…).. He was tremendously apologetic and similarly peeved that he had missed the game!

I was in the Czech Republic with the Army in 2005. I was in the middle of nowhere with no phone signal, no newspapers, nothing. My comrades knew and cared little for cricket (mostly Scottish). In the midst of a mountain range somewhere on the border with Poland I heard an English accent. Finally someone who might know what was going on in the third Test. Test drawn. I was a bag of nerves for two weeks afterwards not knowing what was happening in the fourth Test.

Our first son was born on 6th September 2005. My memories of the Ashes are of being heavily pregnant, sitting in the sunshine listening to TMS, and wondering whether the baby would be put off cricket for life, or harmed in some way, by the high levels of maternal stress. Fortunately all the endings were happy. Brought son home from hospital just before England won the Ashes. Son is a keen cricketer, as is his younger brother. They already have their own great Ashes memories because we were at Headingley for Stokes' miracle in 2019.