County Championship 2022. Division 1. Lancashire v Somerset. 11^th, 12^th, 13^th and 14^th July. Southport.

Tom Abell, Tom Banton, Craig Overton and Will Smeed were unavailable for selection due to being on England Lions duty. Jack Leach was unavailable due to being rested following his recent Test match duties. James Rew made his Championship debut in this match. Amar Virdi was on loan from Surrey to Somerset for this match.

Lancashire. K.K. Jennings, L.W.P. Wells, S.J. Croft, D.J. Vilas (c)(w), J.J. Bohannon, R.P. Jones, G.P. Balderson, L. Wood, T.E. Bailey, W.S.A. Williams, J.P. Morley.

Somerset. M.T. Renshaw, S.M. Davies (w), T.A. Lammonby, G.A. Bartlett, L.P. Goldsworthy, J.E.K. Rew, L. Gregory, R.E. van der Merwe, P.M. Siddle (c), J.A. Brooks, G.S. Virdi.

Toss. Somerset. Elected to bat.

First day 11^th July – An air of permanence

If you keep your wits about you, watching cricket at Southport is a pleasant, relaxing business. Mobile phones and live stream cameras aside, it could be Clarence Park half a century ago. Southport beach too could be Weston. Looking out to sea with the tide out, it is difficult to differentiate shoreline from skyline. Cars parked on the beach too, although I don’t recall seeing cars doing handbrake turns on Weston beach in the Seventies. It is quite a walk from my hotel to the beach and the best part of two miles from hotel to ground, all of it up hill. That was quite a stride in the searing heat of the first day with a backpack filled with fluids (they would have been called drinks in the Seventies) and food. One lesson was learned very quickly. Walk on the shady side of the street. Fortunately, shade was in plentiful supply courtesy of the high hedges and trees which adorn the garden fronts of the expansive houses which line the walk from Southport to the Trafalgar Road ground of Southport and Birkdale Cricket Club.

Trafalgar Road is a club ground with a substantial clubhouse, and for a Championship match endless rows of folding seats sufficient to accommodate a crowd, by my estimate, a little in excess of two thousand. As at most outgrounds the elements have free reign. Shade is virtually non-existent and covered seating entirely non-existent. Arriving half an hour before the start, I found a tablecloth-size patch of shade behind the boundary which abuts the Dover Road. It was under the only treetop between the ground and the high-flying sun and had been annexed by a group of Somerset supporters sporting smiles of relaxed satisfaction.

This was where the application of wit came into its own. Looking almost vertically to check the location of the sun, the lessons learned as a schoolboy astronomer still coming in useful, I calculated its path across the sky and spotted a high privet hedge at the edge of one of the gardens which run along the Harrod Drive End. I concluded that if I moved one of the collapsible chairs right back against the slightly curved hedge, within half an hour it might provide the same sort of continuous protection from the sun as that provided by the wall behind the back row of seats on Gimblett’s Hill at Taunton. That spot I annexed on behalf of Somerset, for the sun was now producing the heat of a furnace.

By eleven o’clock the ground was teeming with people, either already in seats or looking for them. People walked behind or in front of the rows of seats seeking out the diminishing number of empty ones. At half past eleven people were still pouring into the ground with empty seats now at a premium. The sun, despite a thin covering of hazy white cloud, continued to beat down with unremitting ferocity. By then, Somerset had won the toss, elected to bat on a wicket showing some green and had lost two wickets, both to the early movement of the right arm pace of Tom Bailey. Of Somerset’s left-handed openining pair, Steven Davies had edged defensively into the hands of Rob Jones diving low to his right at second slip, and Matthew Renshaw, also defensively, had repeated the stroke, this time edging low to Jones’ left. Somerset found themselves on 16 for 2, their travelling supporters experiencing the sinking pangs of déjà vu while Lancashire employed four slips. A tense quiet covered the ground with Lancashire on the cusp of a decisive advantage and Somerset needing to shore up after another dispiriting start. 

Out of that Somerset despond Tom Lammonby, in from the fall of Davies’ wicket, shone a shaft of light. After shoring up for eight overs, scoring just one run, he drove both Bailey and Williams straight for four. “Well done, Lammers,” the relieved response from among the Somerset support. When George Balderson replaced Bailey at the Grosvenor Road End, George Bartlett, with the crispest of clips through midwicket, found the clubhouse boundary. The stroke had all the freedom that marks Bartlett’s batting when he is in form and, added to Lammonby’s effortless drives, began to kindle a spark of hope in Somerset’s travelling supporters.

As the pair settled, they picked up the pace. The left-handed Lammonby turned Balderson behind square to the boundary where the applauding group of Somerset supporters who had annexed the spot under the tree sat. In Balderson’s next over, Bartlett glanced to the Harrod Drive End and drove square off the back foot for four more, taking Somerset to the relative riches of 54 for 2. From there, against Luke Wood’s left arm pace, Lammonby glanced fine and clipped square for two more boundaries. The gentlest and most beautifully timed straight drive from Bartlett off Wood raced to the Harrod Drive End. It took Somerset into the 70’s and towards the prospect of a substantial score. It brought Somerset cheers, particularly from the Grosvenor Road End, and a cry of, “Shot!” from the Harrod Drive End together with one wry comment of, “There isn’t much cheering from this end.”  

That changed when, with his second ball, from the Harrod Drive End, the 21-year-old Jack Morley, with his left arm spin, tossed up a delivery and yorked Bartlett who looked deceived as he desperately tried to get his bat down. Bartlett had looked confident and in control for his 27, and with about 20 minutes to go until lunch Somerset looked to have overcome their early setbacks. Now, the innings was back in the melting pot. Lewis Goldsworthy, with a young history of digging in, announced himself with a sharp square cut. It ran into the hospitality area next to the clubhouse where it was fielded one-handed by someone holding firmly to a half-full glass of golden nectar with his other hand. That took Somerset to 89 for 3 and lunch with Lancashire holding some advantage. There was now little sign of assistance for the bowlers, although one Lancashire supporter gave some hope to Somerset when he said, “I don’t remember a match here going into a fourth day.”  

Lunch was a trip back in time, wandering the freedom of an outground. Not unlike Weston in the Seventies, although I don’t recall Weston ever being quite as hot as Southport was on this day. The sheer necessity of wearing my wide-brimmed wyvern hat outweighed the symbolism of doing so. The relaxation of a lunchtime walk across the outfield of a first-class cricket ground, especially in the unregulated informality of an outground, has to be experienced to be appreciated. It was particularly appreciated by the Somerset supporters I spoke to as we ambled, because it has been a pleasure denied us during the first part of this season at Taunton, much to the chagrin of many. The Taunton outfield was re-seeded during the winter and the grass is not considered established enough for, “A couple of hundred people in soft-soled shoes to have a gentle walk at lunch.” At least that is how many supporters have expressed their feelings about it to me. There is, no doubt, professional logic to the suspension of access and a good outfield is crucial to good cricket, but the denial of a tradition that goes back deep into the mists of time has generated real ill-feeling.

After my extended amble I found myself at the far, Grosvenor Road End. The crowd was by now so packed that returning to my seat at the Harrod Drive End proved something of, to use the modern management idiom, a challenge. The crowd was so great that the front rows of the temporary seating were positioned at the boundary edge and the rear rows within a couple of feet of the perimeter fence in many places. Getting from one end of the ground to the other was rather akin to driving along a Somerset country lane and meeting a succession of cars coming in the opposite direction. Stopping for a chat to Somerset supporters dotted about the seating added further to the delays, as did stopping to take in some of the cricket from different angles.

The cricket itself seemed to progress at a similar rate to my walk. ‘Turgid’ some might have called it. Ten overs it took me to return to my seat. In that time Somerset added 16 runs. Goldsworthy edged one ball just fine of gully. On another day he might have edged it a trace wider and been caught. I was beginning to hope that the Lancashire supporter who had told me matches do not reach the fourth day at Southport was right, for Somerset did not seem destined for a large first innings score. Finally, back in my seat, the deed matched the thought. Lammonby attempted to play Will Williams to leg, missed, was struck on the pad and the umpire’s finger rose. Somerset were 105 for 4 and a disappointed Lammonby walked off for a hard-won 42 scored in nearly two and a half hours.

Somerset were again in familiar first innings territory and so were the anxiety levels of Somerset supporters as James Rew walked to the wicket to join Goldsworthy. Goldsworthy has shown real fighting qualities with the bat in his short career but had not convinced me he could dominate the bowling and make a score of real substance. As to Rew, this was his first Championship innings. Once again, Somerset were on the brink. Just under three hours later, with Rew walking back to the clubhouse, Somerset were in sight of a substantial score on a pitch that really was turgid, and on which runs had to be worked for.

Goldsworthy got the partnership, which would stretch to 145, underway with three boundaries in four overs. Goldsworthy does not have the classical look of Abell or give the impression of ease of stroke which Bartlett displays, but those three strokes were all perfectly timed. The first, a clip off Bailey with the lightest of touches sped to the fine leg boundary. The second, a check drive through extra cover seemed to have insufficient power in the stroke, but the ball reached the boundary with some ease. The third was played with the simplicity of a bat placed to await the arrival of the ball and angled to divert it safely past the slips to the boundary. There followed three overs for two runs. It was a start to the partnership which set the pattern for the rest. Small clutches of boundaries broken up by short periods of calm.

Goldsworthy’s was an innings which changed my view of him. To date, I had seen him as a fighter with the bat who could hold the line for a session or so, but who did not ‘go on’. In this innings, he controlled the rest of the day with a combination of resolute defence and incisive attack. It was an innings which should establish him in the side for some time to come. At the other end, after Goldsworthy’s boundaries, the left-handed Rew took the initiative, playing with an air of imperturbability which belied his years, although Wells missed a very sharp chance off Morley at slip. In an over, Bailey was driven through the covers and glanced fine of my seat at the Harrod Drive End. An on drive off Wood defeated the diving Croft at deep midwicket and Balderson, replacing Bailey, was glanced, again fine of my seat, to take Somerset past 150. Rew was justifying some of the praise which has been lavished upon him by those who have seen him play for the second team. A Lancashire supporter sensed the threat presented by him and Goldsworthy when he said, “We need a wicket here.” A single, cut square by Goldsworthy, brought up the fifty partnership before Rew again took the lead with a reverse paddle sweep off Morley before a brief hiatus in the scoring eventually brought Lancashire some relief.  

Then, with tea approaching, the traditional over or two of spin before the interval was pounced upon by Goldsworthy and Rew. Morley was glanced fine for four by Goldsworthy, and Luke Wells was struck for 17 in an over, one Lancashire supporter comparing the onslaught to being assailed by the flying ants which were apparently in evidence in some parts of the ground. Perhaps the ants were only interested in Lancashire supporters, for none troubled me. In that Wells over boundaries came from a paddle sweep and an on drive from Goldsworthy and a pull from Rew followed by a neat cut for two to deep backward point. It sent Somerset supporters to tea with an extra spring in their step, a step which was already looking sprightly enough with the score on 191 for 4, with Goldsworthy on 58 and Rew on 40. The sun added to the feeling, its ferocity easing as the high white cloud thickened. 

The evening session began as the afternoon had ended, with Somerset on the attack. As he had before tea, Rew played the glance particularly well, finding the boundary three times, twice off the spinners. Morley was reverse swept too for four and driven off the back foot through the covers. The cover drive went straight to that small group of Somerset supporters under the tree by the Dover Road. Rew’s was an innings of real authority which could not help but draw plaudits from the Somerset supporters to whom I spoke. Another of the joys of outground cricket is the freedom with which spectators can walk among one another between overs and, where space permits, pull up a chair for a chat before moving on.

Goldsworthy’s innings lost nothing in comparison with Rew’s. Their composure spawned an air of permanence. Together, they moved Somerset from a position of creaking jeopardy, to one where they might look towards dominance. Rew’s presence was perhaps the more striking, if only because he was an 18-year-old on debut. Goldsworthy though, only 21 himself, looked to be controlling the situation. His deflections demonstrated both perfect positioning and angling of the bat and time in hand to play the ball. Some brought neatly placed singles. One, played fine past slip off Wood, flashed towards and ran across the Harrod Drive End boundary to my left. Off Wells, in an over, he cut backward of square, drove to the off and then, off the back foot, through point, all for two. He took Somerset to 250 with a drive through the covers and a cut through the point area, both for four, both in the course of an over off Bailey, now with the new ball.

The partnership finally ended with Rew leaning slightly away from the ball and clipping Williams firmly to Bailey at midwicket. It brought a shaft of disappointment to Somerset supporters with the pair having looked so firmly in control. The disappointment did not last as thoughts of the emergence of a new Somerset player with real potential took hold. A score of 250 for 5 put a very different complexion on the game too after the fourth wicket had fallen at 105. The partnership would need to be built on though, for thoughts of a result in under four days had receded. It was difficult to remember much by way of an appeal after the first hour, and Goldsworthy and Rew had looked in control for most of their partnership. A substantial first innings score seemed essential and would need some more work yet.

Lewis Gregory, as ever, erect and looking purposeful, marched to the wicket. A short period of consolidation and a top edge into no man’s land on the on side apart, he and Goldsworthy looked to be building another partnership. Gregory drove Balderson square for four and a thick edge, safe, followed. Goldsworthy turned Bailey to fine leg for four and, fortuitously, edged a cut off Williams over gully for the boundary which took him to 99. His century came from an altogether more accomplished stroke when he drove Balderson, again with a check drive, to the cover boundary. Goldsworthy raised his bat, the crowd broke into generous applause and Somerset supporters around the ground identified themselves by rising to their feet. From there, Somerset went quietly to the close three runs short of a third bonus point with Goldsworthy on 103 and Gregory on 23. It was a score which I suspect most Somerset supporters would have settled for at the start of the day and would have snatched for at 105 for 4. I walked the two miles to my hotel with that spring firmly established in my step, and on my evening stroll, the beach looked all the more like Weston.

Close. Somerset 297 for 5.