County Championship 2022. Division 1. Somerset v Essex. 14^th, 15^th and 16^th April 2022. Taunton.

The following were unavailable for selection by Somerset through injury. Tom Banton, George Bartlett, Josh Davey and Sonny Baker, the last of whom will be unavailable for the immediate future. Matthew Renshaw has joined the squad, Craig Overton and Jack Leach have been approved to play by the ECB and Lewis Gregory and Jack Brooks have recovered from illness.

Somerset. B.G.F. Green, T.A. Lammonby, M.T. Renshaw, J.C. Hildreth, T.B. Abell (c), L.P. Goldsworthy, S.M. Davies (w), L. Gregory, C. Overton, P.M. Siddle, J. Leach.

Essex. N.L.J. Browne, Sir A.N. Cook, T. Westley, D.W. Lawrence, A.M. Rossington, M.J.J. Critchley, A.J.A. Wheater, S.R. Harmer, S. Snater, M.T. Steketee, S.J. Cook.

Overnight. Somerset 109. Essex 109 for 2. Essex have eight first innings wickets standing with the scores level.

Second day 15^th April – A day of Vesuvian roars

The relocated Gimblett’s Hill benches next to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion again proved popular on the second day. When I meandered over to them during the tea interval, they were once more full. On the basis of number of spectators per seat they were the most popular part of the ground. Possibly also the warmest, for they and their occupants were bathed in warm sunshine. A far cry from the chill climate which still rules the upper section of the Trescothick Pavilion from where I have watched the first two days of this match. I wondered about the view, given the occupants must look full into the sun for a good part of the day.

However pleasant the ambience of those benches, the day had started with Somerset in a perilous position. The scores were level on first innings with Essex still having eight wickets in hand. Alistair Cook was not out on 59, scored over nearly four hours on a first day in which runs had been scored, by both sides, at barely two an over against some tenacious bowling in difficult batting conditions. As Cook prepared to face the first ball, Peter Siddle prepared to bowl it. The obvious fear among Somerset supporters was that Cook would take the game beyond Somerset’s reach. As Siddle ran in, breaths were held tight.

The ball was full. Cook came forward. Edge! The ball flew towards Hildreth’s ankles at first slip, breaths still held in limbo. Hildreth’s hands slid smoothly down as if without a care in the world. The ball, seemingly guided by a homing device, disappeared into them. “Yes!” a dozen voices from  around me cried simultaneously, followed by a guttural roar which enveloped the ground. Cook had gone and hope burned a little brighter.  

When the new batter, Dan Lawrence, was beaten by Craig Overton, moving the ball away, and edged another past the slips for a single the hope clung on. When Sam Cook left a ball from Overton which clipped the top of off stump, Essex were 113 for 4 and hope could be heard in the roar. But when two huge leg before wicket appeals from Overton against Lawrence were declined, “They are giving us nothing,” was the gloomy conclusion. “Critchley is leading a charmed life,” followed from my old work colleague as Siddle passed the edge twice in succession and Gregory forced an inside edge which barely evaded the stumps before running to the Trescothick Pavilion boundary. Lawrence added to the frustration with a pair of singles from thick edges off Siddle and Gregory. He was beaten too by some away movement whilst stabbing defensively at a ball from Siddle, surviving a loud leg before wicket appeal. At each narrow escape for Essex, the threat of a repeat of the previous afternoon’s endless narrow misses was beginning to loom large in the Somerset mind.

Lawrence added to the Somerset pain with a straight drive to the Trescothick Pavilion and a glance to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion. The match was so tight every run hurt, and every boundary felt like a hammer blow. Then Siddle, one of the most disciplined bowlers I have witnessed, forced Lawrence right back onto his stumps and hit the pads full on. The appeal was huge. This time it brooked no argument, the umpire did not demur, and Lawrence departed for 17. The roar from the crowd which followed might have outdone Vesuvius in its AD 79 prime. Overton immediately replaced Siddle and within two balls Matthew Critchley was caught low down at second slip by Renshaw diving to his left. Another Vesuvian eruption. “The luck is finally moving our way. That’s 25 for 4 this morning in 14 overs,” said my old work colleague. Essex were 134 for 6 and there was extended applause for Overton, repeated with feeling at the end of the over.  

Adam Rossington took two runs and survived a huge appeal for caught behind in an over from Gregory. “He’s deserved a wicket,” the comment. When Rossington drove Overton straight and emphatically for four my old work colleague said, “That’s OK. It shows we are pitching it up.” Then, “Yes!” he roared, blasting my eardrum in the process, when Overton’s next ball hit the pad and the umpire again raised his finger. “That’s 32 for 5 this morning. And it’s five for Overton.” Next Tom Westley, who had been at the crease for just over an hour for 13, followed a ball from Overton and edged it to Davies. The faces in the Trescothick Pavilion revealed a mixture of relief and wonder. Essex had slumped from their overnight 109 for 2 to 144 for 8, a lead of just 35.

A glance at the scoreboard at the end of the over revealed figures for Craig Overton of 22-6-39-6. Astonishing enough in themselves, even more so in the context of those 22 overs coming from just 69 bowled in the Essex innings so far, all but one in three. The Taunton crowd was supercharged now, the chatter animated and to the point. This was a match in the balance. County Championship watchers know their cricket. “We can’t afford for them to have a lead of more than 50,” said my old work colleague. “C’mon boys!” shouted Abell, perhaps of the same opinion.

It had been an outstanding morning for Somerset, one to match the morning Essex had had the day before. And Overton was not finished yet. Shane Snater clipped the first ball of an over to the Caddick Pavilion for four. The second reared up, Snater ducked, waved his bat one-handed at the ball which located the flailing edge, looped over Snater’s head and Hildreth at first slip took a step backwards to pluck it out of the air. “Craig O!” the inevitable shout. Essex were 156 for 9, but the lead, at 47, in the context of seven wickets having fallen during the course of the morning, was becoming significant.

Opposition last wicket stands have been the bane of my cricket-watching life. Not that Somerset have been entirely innocent in that regard, Charl Willoughby’s randomly swinging bat being an occasional prime contributor, with Jack Leach a serial offender. Here it was Simon Harmer and Mark Steketee. Twenty-four is by no means at the higher end of exasperating last wicket stands, but in this match, it had the potential to be devastating, for it took Essex’s total to 180 and their first innings lead to 71. Steketee ended on two, the umpire’s affirmation of Gregory’s leg before wicket appeal reward at the last for the earlier beaten bats and unrequited appeals.

Harmer is as controlled with the bat as he is with the ball, and here every run he picked off tightened Essex’s grip. A cover drive to the Priory Bridge Road boundary and a cut square to the Caddick Pavilion in an over from Siddle, who otherwise conceded runs at less than two an over, felt like daggers in the heart of Somerset’s revived hopes. Overton’s final figures of 27-6-57-7 were testament to the sheer enormity of his efforts. With lunch coming at the end of the Essex innings, more acres of time remained in the match than real ones were visible on the Quantocks.

I spent the first 12 overs of the Somerset second innings on the Trescothick Pavilion elevated terrace standing next to the cameras which look straight down the wicket. In those 12 overs, Somerset scored nine runs and lost two wickets. Lammonby edged Sam Cook to Alistair Cook at slip while Ben Green was leg before wicket to Snater. It was indicative of the intensity of the bowling and the continuing movement of the ball. Intense concentration from the batters too. Indicative of that, Ben Green leaving one ball, angled in, which passed within a stump’s width of the off stump and just above the bails. “Phew!” said one of the camera operators. “That was some leave.” Despite the intensity of the cricket and the falling wickets demanding the constant attention of Somerset eyes, there was still enough Somerset bandwidth for another Somerset supporter and I to discuss current cricketing issues.

To the fore of our discussion was what we referred to as ‘The Twelve’. The reported proposal being developed for a restructuring of domestic first-class cricket, a ‘Premier League’ of 12 counties with an expedited transfer market to and from a ‘Feeder Division’ consisting of the remaining six counties. It was impossible to be more specific because of the lack of information about any developing thinking, or indeed whether the sparse information that has been published is fact, part fact or just speculation. If the speculation is anywhere near the reality, there is an existential threat to the smaller counties such as Somerset. There are clear parallels to the secretive way in which the original thinking which led to The Hundred was developed and that just adds to the speculation and anxiety among county members. Given the potential impact of any proposals, the discussion moved on to the importance of Somerset providing its members with full information about the proposal as soon as it is available, and then consulting in a substantive way before any decisions are taken. There is no county club which has more relevance to its local community than Somerset and no club with a more committed membership. There are interesting times ahead.

And then back to my seat. Renshaw and Hildreth were picking their way forward with the crowd willing them on. “Well run boys,” the cry when Hildreth pushed Snater to short midwicket and snatched a run as mid-on ran to field. “Come on Hildy,” the shout as he drove Steketee straight for two. Two boundaries from Renshaw from thick edges reminded of the risk innate in batting in these conditions. A threat confirmed when Hildreth was bowled pushing defensively at Snater. Hildreth 6. Somerset 23 for 3 in the 16^th over. It was glacial progress, the Essex first innings lead was looking decisive, and a nervous hush followed the loss of Hildreth.

Abell joined Renshaw and began to raise the tempo. He leant into an on drive off Steketee which crossed the Caddick Pavilion boundary. “Shot!” someone shouted through the applause. A steer past the slips was intercepted on the rope as the batters ran three. “Four, four, four,” the chorus that rang out from Somerset supporters in the River Stand. Confirmed by a signal from the fielder and then by the umpire. The signalling of boundaries by fielders in tight match situations standing in stark contrast to the ubiquitous claiming of throw-ins by players of both sides when the ball crosses the touch line in football.

An on drive for two to Renshaw off Cook brought applause, a four clipped off his toes to the Somerset Stand brought cheers, and soon animated applause was following every run as the crowd responded. Breaths were held as Abell edged low between the keeper and first slip. Wheater dived, ball, ground and gloves met, and the ball ran loose. It was impossible to tell from the top of the Trescotbick Pavilion whether the ball had touched ground or glove first and the resulting debate was inconclusive, and in terms of the match, irrelevant, but the relief at a possible Somerset escape was obvious.

Wheater took a long time to get up, perhaps suggesting he had dropped the ball, but the threat from the Essex bowlers was clear. Clearer still when Abell jabbed in defence at a Steketee delivery and edged it to Wheater who this time did not have to move. Abell 12. Somerset 50 for 4, still 21 behind. Lewis Goldsworthy replaced Abell and following a shout from the field of, “One more,” guided Steketee through fine leg to the Colin Atkinson boundary. When he tried to do the same to a ball from Snater directed at off stump, the ball took the back of the bat and Wheater took the catch diving hard and low to his right. “Leave the ball alone,” shouted an exasperated voice. Goldsworthy 7. Somerset 60 for 5. Essex still 11 ahead. It was Somerset’s second day nadir.

Renshaw, playing with more assurance than in the first innings, was joined by Steven Davies. Between them, playing with caution, they steered Somerset to tea. Where runs were taken, the ball was mainly played into gaps at a pace which resulted in two rather than four, Davies finally bringing the scores level with a single and Renshaw taking Somerset into the lead with a steer past the slips to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion boundary. Somerset 75 for 5. Renshaw 36. Davies 5. Lead 4. It was the finest of margins, but it is astonishing how much better four ahead feels than four behind. And the sun shone brilliantly on the Quantocks, the oilseed rape showing them in all their glory.

After tea Harmer bowled his usual miserly line, but the Somerset batters took some toll of the Essex pace attack suggesting the ball might be moving less. Batting was still far from easy. In successive balls from Sam Cook, Davies drove square towards the Somerset Stand for two, “Nice shot,” the comment, and a steer past the slips to Gimblett’s Hill for four was neatly played. The next ball though went straight down off a defensive bat and rolled within six inches of the stumps. “Shot!” again though when he drove Cook through mid-off to the River Stand. Then, “Shot!” rang out from several mouths simultaneously when Renshaw drove Steketee through the covers to the Caddick Pavilion. It was though a Davies edge off Harmer, just wide of Cook at slip, that brought the two runs and the applause which took Somerset to 101 for 5. Lead 30. The tense atmosphere that had filled the ground the whole day was beginning to generate the first vestiges of anticipation.

And then the reckoning, never far away in this match. Renshaw, on 45 scored in two and a half hours, attempted to play Cook into the on side and was unarguably leg before wicket. It was a considerable blow, for Renshaw’s careful play had withstood the Essex bowlers as the top order wilted. He had then, with Davies, been shepherding Somerset out of the desperate situation they were in at 60 for 5. Now, with only Gregory and the lower order to support him, Davies continued to attack, bringing the leg side and the crowd into play as he went, Harmer came in for particular punishment. He was pulled through midwicket to the Priory Bridge Road boundary for four and six and driven through the covers to the Somerset Stand for three and four to a mountain of cheers. When Davies steered Steketee past the slips for a single to bring up his fifty someone said, “We’ll done!” and said it with feeling.

Gregory, devastating with the bat when inspiration visits, had been intent on defence, scoring nine in three quarters of an hour but, crucially, keeping an end secure while Davies gathered runs. He had found the boundary once, but when he tried again, pulling Snater from outside off stump, he top-edged and was caught by long leg running in. Somerset 141 for 7. Lead 70. Before the over was out, Overton came forward in defence and was bowled without scoring. Somerset 143 for 8, but the ground still buzzed, if more hesitantly, as Essex fought back.

“Oh dear!” the comment when Davies was bowled for 51 driving at Steketee with the lead only 72. “Come on Jack!” someone shouted as Leach walked out, the spark of hope still alive despite Somerset’s threadbare lead. It had been that sort of match. Leach was immediately positive, turning his first ball to long leg for two to applause. When he pushed Steketee into the off side for a single to take Somerset to 150 for 9 there was applause for the milestone and a shout of, “Well done Leachy.” Four leg byes brought a shout of, “Hooray!” as the crowd responded. A straight drive off Snater crashed into the bowler’s stumps but, as hope was beginning to swell again, the next ball swung in, tucked Leach up and bowled him.

Essex would need 84 to win. Looked at on the scoreboard it seemed a formality. But in the context of this match with its low scores, moving ball, sustained quality bowling, and the high state of tension in which it had been played, no-one was giving up. It would take a cricketing miracle for Somerset to win, but over the years that is what Somerset have traded in. And if there was to be a miracle, this might just be the match for it. There was certainly an anticipatory buzz as Essex walked out to begin their second innings. Within six balls the buzz had turned to thunderous cheers as Overton ran up the pitch arm aloft in celebration after Nick Browne had chipped him to Green at midwicket.

“Come on Pete!” someone roared at the announcement, “From the River End. Peter Siddle.” “Come on lads. Come on!” added Abell as Siddle bowled to Alistair Cook. One ball, angled in, cut in further and cleared the top of the stumps by a whisker. Siddle’s head disappeared into his hands. There was a gasp of disappointment, for Cook’s wicket would have really set Essex’s nerves on edge. But, at the close, 3 for 1 it was. Another 81 to win, Somerset supporters dreaming, Essex ones pensive, everyone buzzing with anticipation. The only certainties were, it had been a day of Vesuvian roars, and no-one would be late on the morrow.

Close. Somerset 109 and 154 (S.M. Davies 51, M.T. Renshaw 45, S. Snater 6-36). Essex 180 (A.N. Cook 59, C. Overton 7-57) and 3 for 1. Essex need 81 more runs to win with nine second innings wickets standing.