County Championship 2023. Division 1. Somerset v Lancashire. 20^th, 21^st, 22^nd and 23^rd April. Taunton.

Somerset. T.A. Lammonby, S.R. Dickson, C.T. Bancroft, T.B. Abell (c), T. Kohler-Cadmore, J.E.K. Rew (w), L. Gregory, K.A. Aldridge, M.J. Leach, P.M. Siddle, J.A. Brooks.

Lancashire. K.K. Jennings (c), L.W.P. Wells, J.J. Bohannon, D.J. Vilas, G.J. Bell (w), C. de Grandhomme, G.P. Balderson, T.W. Hartley, T.E. Bailey, S. Mahmood, J.M. Anderson.

Overnight. Somerset 441 and 41 for 0. Lancashire 554. Somerset trail by 72 runs with ten second innings wickets standing.

Final day 23^rd April – A long afternoon

My arrival at the ground shortly after the start was greeted with the fall of three wickets in the time it took me to get from the Brian Rose Gates to the top of the Trescothick Pavilion. Or in cricketing terms, in less than two overs. I came through the gates to Tom Lammonby defending on the back foot. Tom Bailey was bowling from the River End. The ball was full, found the edge and flew straight at the midriff of Colin de Grandhomme at second slip. As slip catches go, it was a straightforward catch straightforwardly taken. Somerset 49 for 1 and I was awake for the day. Lammonby 23.

I watched the next over, Jimmy Anderson from the Trescothick Pavilion End, from behind the covers store, my usual miss-as-little-cricket-as-possible way station en route to the Trescothick Pavilion. One over, but Sean Dickson didn’t survive it. A full, end-to-end delivery cut in a little off the pitch, beat Dickson’s descending bat and struck him full on the pad. Somerset 53 for 2. Dickson 19. That gave me time to reach my seat in time to see Bancroft move to the off to defend the first ball of Bailey’s next over. Not far enough. He edged it between the keeper and first slip and George Bell move neatly across to take it. Somerset 53 for 3. Bancroft four. Within six overs of the start of play, Somerset’s promising overnight 41 for 0 had turned into a classic Somerset edge-of-the-seat drama. As Mary Tudor once said of Calais and her heart, plus ça change must be engraved onto every Somerset heart.

The sun seemed unconcerned as it played brightly on the Quantocks, if not on the ground, but with Somerset still 60 runs behind and most of the day still to be played, any brightness in the mood of the crowd had been doused as it settled into an uneasy quiet. A lot might rest on the shoulders of Tom Abell, so often Somerset’s rock against a storm. Abell though is not a rock who stands still. With Tom Kohler-Cadmore he immediately began to take the game to Lancashire, taking boundary-sized bites out of their lead. Abell was at his clipped classical best as he middled the ball with those controlled, often truncated strokes that are his trademark. Two on drives, one off Saqib Mahmood to the Ondaatje Stand and one, taken off his toes to the Somerset Stand off George Balderson, brought gasps of acknowledgement.

Kohler-Cadmore is as good an antidote as there is to an uneasy quiet when he succeeds. In an over from Tom Baliey, he drove  through the onside to the Somerset Stand and the off side to the Colin Atkinson boundaries with the sort of lightness of touch which had served Keaton Jennings so well on the second and third days. But still, Lancashire continued to ask questions. Abell edged Balderson, although the ball fell well short of the slips, and Kohler-Cadmore’s third boundary came from a thick edge which flew across the face of the slips off Mahmood. Then, just as the sun lit the ground for the first time, he pushed at a wider ball from Balderson and de Grandhomme took an outstanding one-handed catch diving low to his right. Somerset 91 for 4. Kohler-Cadmore 16. Somerset still 22 behind with 79 overs still to be bowled. Cricket supporters have an innate sense of the balance of a game, and anxiety etched in the faces at the top of the Trescothick Pavilion betrayed the risk of defeat for Somerset if they could not stem the flow of wickets.

Abell is Somerset’s rock with the bat, but when a dam is needed to hold a tide threatening to engulf the team, few would look further than James Rew. Yet, as he walked to the wicket, he was still not 20 years of age. Abell’s immediate response to the gathering crisis was to cut Mahmood twice in two balls to the Somerset Stand, once through point and once through backward point and Rew followed by glancing Balderson to the Trescothick Pavilion. That took Somerset to 103 for 4 and within ten runs of clearing the deficit. And then at 108 for 4, with the lead beckoning, Rew edged Mahmood to slip from where the ball fell to earth to disbelieving if relieved eyes all around.

The drop didn’t hold the attention for long, for the cricket was being played at pace and the deficit was soon cleared with two fours in three balls from Rew off Mahmood, an on drive to the Somerset Stand and a backfoot cover drive to the Caddick Pavilion. The boundaries took Somerset into the lead, but the tense atmosphere still reflected the tightness of the situation. The lead had barely had time to register when mouths fell open at the sight of Abell edging Balderson low towards slip. The ball was taken, but someone said, “It didn’t carry, I saw the puff of sand as it touched ground,” at which mouths expelled the air that had been suspended in the lungs. And then the rain fell, and everyone could draw some much-needed breath. Breaths of relief for Somerset supporters, for Abell and Rew were still there, lunch had been reached and Somerset had a lead, if an as yet inconsequential one.

The afternoon began with a change in the weather. It was as if the rain had been cleared away with the lunch things. The sun came out for the second over and Abell and Rew set about rescuing Somerset’s day. It was not a restful watch. The pre-lunch toe-to-toe confrontation was replaced by post-lunch head-down attrition, although not without more alarms than was comfortable for Somerset supporters. Abell clipped Balderson behind square to the Caddick Pavilion, but then Balderson and the slow left armer, Hartley, held Somerset to one run in the next five overs. It was tense cricket, with eyes darting to and from the scoreboard despite it being frozen in time.

Then, an attempt at a breakout from Rew. Four to the Lord Ian Botham Stand off an open face which went between second slip and gully, safe enough for a relieved gasp from one or two around me. That seemed to embolden Rew into an uncharacteristic assault on the bowling. Almost immediately, a top edge off Hartley steepled towards the heavens and, like a guided missile, fell straight into the hands of Anderson at square leg. The gasps were now of disbelief, but nothing compared to those which followed when the ball went straight through Anderson’s hands and hit ground. From his reaction, the most disbelieving soul on the ground was Anderson himself.  

Rew took heart. In ten balls, Bailey was clipped behind square to the Somerset Stand for four and Hartley was lofted over straight midwicket to the Priory Bridge Road Stand for six, lofted over midwicket to the Caddick Pavilion for four, edged to slip, “I think that was a drop,” someone behind me said, and steered past slip for to the Trescothick Pavilion End boundary for another four. High-risk stuff, but it sent a buzz through the crowd. And then, in this up-and-down Somerset innings, “That went straight through the gate,” as Abell was bowled by Bailey for 40. Abell was applauded off, but eyes were back on the scoreboard and that cricketing mental arithmetic involving Somerset’s lead (44), overs remaining (58) and wickets remaining (five) was in full anxious flow again.

The wicket brought Lewis Gregory to the crease. His first-class batting average of around 25 is not as high as his free-flowing but correct and confident style suggests it might have been. I have gained an impression over time though of a player who often performs with the bat when it matters. A sumptuous square drive to the Somerset Stand off Bailey brought hope. Then, he and Rew settled to a more circumspect approach and the buzz that Rew’s flurry had brought subsided into a tense quiet as calculations still involved more overs remaining than runs in Somerset’s lead. Safety still seemed a long way off when Rew, attempting to drive Hartley through the covers was well caught by Luke Wells at slip, one of four close catchers, reaching to his left. Rew had 47 rather idiosyncratic and fortuitous, runs. After the applause, it was a return to a nervous quiet, for a lead of 56 with 57 overs and four wickets remaining seemed to presage a very long afternoon ahead if Somerset were to save the game, a sense to which a scoreless three overs and a leg before wicket appeal from Hartley against a missed Aldridge sweep only added.

When Gregory edged a drive off Mahmood between second slip and gully hearts missed a beat. In the crowd at least. I am not sure the heart in Gregory’s chest did, for he was soon seen, the epitome of apparent nonchalance, leaning on his bat as if he had not a care in the world. It is difficult to know, when Gregory projects that image, whether to take confidence in the calm or become exasperated at the apparent lack of concern. I tend to take confidence in the calm. It always brings to mind his match-saving innings of 15 at Chelmsford in 2018. It took him over an hour and a half as he faced down a rampant Simon Harmer with Somerset in deep trouble. The image I have is of an apparently carefree Gregory repeatedly pushing his pad down the wicket and keeping Harmer out for over after over until the game was safe.

It was the same here. In 15 overs, Somerset scored 33 runs with only a single boundary, a glance from Aldridge off Mahmood, other than Gregory’s edge. The tension in the crowd remained, but gradually the Lancashire fielders became more vocal, “Come on boys, keep working through,” one shouted. Fielders becoming more vocal in such circumstances can be a sign of anxiety that a game is beginning to slip or drift. With 42 overs remaining, Somerset led by 89 runs with still four wickets standing. If Somerset could continue to hold their nerve and their wickets the balance of the day was shifting their way.

Suddenly, as if to take a hand in shifting the balance, Aldridge signalled a change of tactic. Five boundaries came in two Hartley overs. A drive off an open face to the deep point Ondaatje boundary, an on drive to the Garner Gates and three sweeps, one, nicely judged, fine to Gimblett’s Hill to bring up the fifty partnership. It was a stroke to set the ghosts who inhabit the old Stragglers area beaming, assuming they consider the sweep to be a stroke for first-class cricket. With a lead of 112, still four wickets, and now only 29 overs remaining a resigned feel seemed to settle on the Lancashire field and the crowd looked relaxed for the first time.

The new ball, taken with 27 overs remaining, brought a hint of tension but Anderson and Bailey made little impression and Aldridge, taking two more boundaries off Anderson along the way, brought up his maiden first-class fifty with a neat clip through midwicket off Bailey before the draw was agreed with Somerset 143 ahead and 21 overs remaining in the day. Gregory, still carefree in appearance, but as solid as the Quantocks, had reached 34 after nearly two and a half hours of defiant batting. Aldridge, after finally taking the match beyond Lancashire’s reach with that fusillade of boundaries, had reached a career-best 58 not out in just under two hours. It had been a long afternoon. The match had been saved, but, a reality check, Somerset remained at the bottom of the Championship table.

Result. Somerset 441 (T.B. Abell 151, J.E.K. Rew 117, M.J. Leach 40*, J.M. Anderson 5-76).  and 256 for 6 (K.L. Aldridge 58*, J.E.K. Rew 47, T.B. Abell 40, T.E. Bailey 3-49). Lancashire 554 (K.K. Jennings 189 ret hurt, J.J. Bohannon 85, L.W.P. Wells 82, L. Gregory 3-81, P.M. Siddle 3-97). Match drawn. Lancashire 12 points. Somerset 10 points.