It was one of the first questions I ever asked about cricket.

“Dad, why does that man talk funny?”

England were getting tonked by the West Indies on the telly and Tony Greig reluctantly faced the post-match interview.

I couldn’t understand why the captain sounded so different to the other players.

My accent at the time was mangled enough after years spent growing up in America. But, to an eight-year-old’s ears, this really tall fella was speaking a different language altogether.

I was told that he was from South Africa but allowed to play for England. I nodded appropriately, without understanding the answer at all.

Three decades on and I’m still not sure that I do.

I was lucky enough to become friends with Robin Smith, one of the most fluent batsman I’ve ever witnessed in the Test game.

Allan Lamb, who swapped Natal for Northampton, was another who gave his all to a cause that he was not certainly not born into.

I know all the whys and wherefores regarding qualification through second-uncles twice removed or spending more than five minutes in Tunbridge Wells.

But it is still odd listening to an England batsman talking about “we” and “us” with clipped vowels coming straight from the Veld.

I’m not denying that the latest South African-born player to play for England, Craig Kieswetter, is a very good cricketer. So is Jonathan Trott and Kevin Pietersen.

But something does not feel right.