County Championship 2024. Division 1. Worcestershire v Somerset 26^th, 27^th, 29^th and 29^th April. Kidderminster.

This match was originally scheduled to be played at Worcester. However, due to repeated flooding of the New Road ground during the winter it was moved to Kidderminster.

Jack Leach, (knee injury), Tom Abell (hamstring) and Craig Overton (rested) were unavailable.

Worcestershire. J.D. Libby, G.H. Roderick (w), Kashif Ali, R.P. Jones, A.J. Hose, B.L. D’Oliveira, J.O. Holder, M.J. Waite, J. Leach, B.J. Gibbon, A.W. Finch.

Somerset, M.T. Renshaw, S.R. Dickson, T.A. Lammonby, L.P. Goldsworthy, T. Banton, J.E.K. Rew (w), L. Gregory (c), C. Overton, J.H. Davey, M. Pretorius, S. Bashir.

Toss. Worcestershire. Elected to field.

First day 26^th April – Cricket in April – with a tinge of 1965

Somerset had not played a Championship match at Kidderminster since 1965 in the days of Roy Virgin, Bill Alley and Brian Langford for Somerset, and Ron Headley, Tom Graveney and one B.L. D’Oliveira for Worcestershire. Captaining Worcestershire in 2024 was another B.L. D’Oliveira, grandson of the first, although Brett rather than Basil and the third D’Oliveira in line for Worcestershire after the late Damian, son of the first and father of the third. In 1965, both Worcestershire and Somerset had been bowled out for less then a hundred once in the match, Somerset had made 130 in their other innings, Worcestershire had reached 131 for 1 in their second innings to win by nine wickets, and the match was over inside two days. It must have been a pace bowlers’ paradise. Jack Flavell and Len Coldwell who took over 2,600 first-class wickets between them, each averaging 21, and yet played only 11 Test matches in total, took all 20 Somerset wickets. For Somerset, seamers Fred Rumsey and Bill Alley took ten of the 11 Worcestershire wickets to fall. Different times. Different, uncovered, pitches.

In 1965 the carpet industry ruled supreme in Kidderminster, employing over 15,000 people. By 2024 that had been reduced to less than 1,000 and a carpet museum. Different times. Like so many towns with one primary industry half a century ago, Kidderminster still shows the signs of its near demise, at least, the small part of it which I experienced did. It was evident as I walked to the ground from my hotel, a walk of about a mile and a half, most of it uphill. Much of my walk was past old factory buildings along virtually deserted streets. It had become a conservation area, with car-fed supermarkets and a DIY store the only modern buildings in evidence among the old factories. The factories, which once would have throbbed to the sound of carpet-making looms were eerily silent, apart from the occasional muffled sound of an axe hitting wood as I passed one which now housed an axe-throwing centre. It was one of few visible businesses. I had a sense that there may have been other, quieter affairs that had taken over sections of the old factories which, perhaps benefitting from their conservation area status, still looked in good condition.

Kidderminster Cricket Club has been at its present ground for 124 years and the black and white Pavilion will celebrate its centenary in 2025, the club benefiting over the years from support from the carpet industry. The Pavilion apart, the only permanent infrastructure in the ground consists of a small bar next to the Pavilion, some aged white wooden benches and a small wooden shelter large enough to accommodate a dozen spectators at most. The Pavilion certainly, and the benches and shelter, I suspect, had looked little different in 1965 when a different Somerset team walked out to field. For this match, an assortment of tents and marquees had been added to the facilities along with mobile toilets, a burger van and a mobile mini bar. There was a warm welcome too from the stewards at the gate. Given the comparative shortage of notice of hosting the fixture after the recent floods at New Road, it was a good effort by the local club.

As to the cricket, I suspect Worcestershire expected something of 1965 from the Kidderminster pitch, for they elected to field despite the cloud being high and more white than grey. In place of Flavell and Coldwell, they had a battery of five seamers including Jason Holder with 64 Test matches for the West Indies to his name and Joe Leach, capped for Worcestershire a dozen years before and with a build more often found on a first-class cricket field in 1965 than in 2024. For Somerset, Matt Renshaw and Sean Dickson, kitted out in the crisp cricket apparel of the modern age, opened for Somerset.

Leach found his build no bar to accurate bowling and found the edge of Dickson’s bat with his fourth ball. Adam Hose at first slip, tall and built for the fitter, modern age reached to his right, clasped his hands to the ball, but not tightly enough. “He’s dropped ’n,” said a disappointed Worcestershire supporter behind me. He, like most of us present, was old enough to have been at the 1965 match since it would have taken place in his school summer holidays. The weather would have been warmer too. In 2024, Dickson played across his pads to the next ball and missed but the umpire declined the loud leg before wicket appeal from Leach. Given the low scores and number of wickets taken by the pace bowlers, such appeals must have echoed around the ground in numbers in 1965.

Dickson was not deterred by his precarious start and attempted to drive the first ball of Leach’s second over, only to edge it wide of Worcestershire’s four slips. Soon Leach, working to trap his man, had the keeper standing up to a ball which must have been moving, although I couldn’t be sure from my position between deep midwicket and long on. Still Dickson attacked and a middled straight drive crossed the Railway End boundary behind Leach. Against Matthew Waite, bowling from the Pavilion End, Dickson again attacked, driving through the covers for four before again playing across his pads to another leg before wicket appeal. This time the umpire found no mitigating circumstances and sent him back to the Pavilion. It had been a somewhat frenetic innings played against the persistent probing of the Worcestershire bowling and Somerset were 24 for 1. Dickson 16.

Renshaw, although not looking secure, was trying hard to defend his wicket and had just two runs to his name when he was joined by Tom Lammonby, two left-handers together. With the restraint shown by the Renshaw 2024 mark, he was giving supporters hope that he might provide the stiffening fibre which Somerset needed at the top of the order. His resistance seemed to employ every ounce of concentration he possessed, although his stay was punctuated with the occasional drive reminiscent of 2018. An on drive for four, driven off his toes, against Leach was as smoothly and lightly played as you could hope to see. A straight drive off Matthew Waite, again played with the lightest of touches, raced to the sight screen at the Pavilion End. And yet, Renshaw continued to have problems with the Worcestershire pace attack as Leach and Waite gave way to Holder and Ben Gibbon. There was no raw pace, but there was persistence and accuracy aided by the first day morning conditions and testing lift from Holder. I wondered what Renshaw would have made of Flavell and Coldwell all those years before. Would he have driven them as assuredly as he had driven Leach and Waite?

The give-nothing demand-everything nature of the play produced the sort of tension that, in English domestic cricket only the Championship can produce. Defensive strokes and leaving the ball were the first order of the day, but Lammonby found the boundary too. Whereas Renshaw drove between midwicket and straight, Lammonby drove Holder through the covers and, with an open face, through backward point, both times for four. The boundaries of both batters were crisply struck, but they played and missed too often in the first hour or so for the tension to ease. They were though moving Somerset forward at a careful three runs an over and, when the score reached the 60s and 70s a quiet chatter began to replace the tension.

With Somerset still one wicket down, I felt secure enough to leave my seat to chat to a small group of Somerset’s travelling supporters who had established an outpost in front of the burger van and bar near the entrance. The tension among them was sharper than it had been in the Worcestershire group among whom I had been sitting. Watching your own side bat often seems more stressful than watching it bowl, especially before an innings is fully established. Never move when a growing partnership looks like it might become substantial is a golden rule of cricket supporters. I had moved, and the inevitable happened. Renshaw played a defensive stroke on the back foot to an angled in ball from the left-arm Gibbon. The ball flew off the edge, low between Hose’s shins at first slip. This time, Hose, after his drop of Dickson, made no mistake and Renshaw walked off. Somerset 81 for 2. Renshaw 30. There was applause for a battling innings and, among the group of Somerset supporters, disappointment that he had not quite reached the refuge of lunch.

Andy Umeed joined Lammonby and together they played out the four overs to lunch,  Somerset left the field on 87 for 2, Umeed driving Adam Finch through the covers for four along the way. “I think I would have settled for two down at lunch in these conditions, having been put in,” said one Somerset supporter to general agreement. Both Lammonby and Renshaw had impressed, and the intensity of Lammonby’s defending can perhaps be gauged from the fact that in his 22 overs at the crease he had struck only two fours and scored 23 runs.

The Kidderminster ground is tree-lined and is probably a sight to behold in high summer. In a still winter-strewn April the outlook is bleak. From the town, the mile and a half walk is virtually all up hill and uncompromising. If you finally arrive at the gates on a windblown April day, the ground has all the attributes that Hadrian’s Wall must have had in a northern April 1,900 years before. In short, it was cold and unforgiving, despite the cloud being fairly high and the sun pushing through from time to time. And yet, there was much to recommend it. After the small coterie of Somerset supporters at Canterbury and those who attended The Oval being swallowed up in a huge home crowd, the first day at Kidderminster was like the gathering of the Somerset clans. Worcestershire was the nearest of the away matches in 2024 and Somerset supporters had made the journey in numbers. Faces I recognised and people I knew seemed to be endlessly walking past or were walked past when it was my turn to meander the boundary.

The openness of an out ground seems to encourage perambulation in a way that modern county headquarters with their often extensive infrastructures do not and Kidderminster is no exception. Out grounds also generate a chatty relaxed atmosphere, although with a small crowd it was easy to sit in isolation if that was your fancy. But, as I walked away the lunch break, the chat from Somerset supporters often still focused on the lack of access to the outfield at Taunton and the closure of the Brian Rose Gates and parts of the Somerset Stand. That has bitten deep with many, as has the removal of the iconic images of Somerset players past from the Legends Wall behind the Somerset Stand.

Batting seemed a little easier after lunch. The ball appeared to be moving less and the appeals died down. Umeed drove Holder through the covers to the boundary in front of the burger van, the only food outlet in the ground outside the clubhouse, and Lammonby drove Leach straight for another four. When Umeed leaned into a neat on drive off Holder, as the ball crossed the boundary one Worcestershire supporter said, “This is ominous.” An over later, Lammonby attempted to drive a widish ball from Leach and edged it straight to Holder at second slip. “Another one now!” said the suddenly encouraged Worcestershire voice. Somerset 107 for 3. Lammonby 34. It had been a careful innings punctuated by smoothly classical strokes of the type left-handers are supposed to play if you listen to watchers who began watching nearer 1965 than 2024. Within two balls, Tom Banton, with three slips in place, was driving another widish ball from Leach, this time it came off the middle and flew square for four to a comment of, “Lovely shot!” What a difference a couple of inches of bat makes. When Banton edged a ball from Holder short of the newly arrived third slip, a Somerset supporter said, “The odd one still nibbles away.” It was pause for thought.

From there, the afternoon was a game of two parts. The first, longer part, went to Somerset, the second, incisive part, to Worcestershire. In trying to take Somerset forward, Umeed and Banton played their own game of two parts. Careful defence for the most part. Well-struck fours for the rest, with the occasional single to keep the scoreboard interested. Two fours came from Banton in successive balls off Adam Finch, one driven through the covers, the other square. An on drive from Umeed off Waite followed and reached the boundary in front of the Pavilion. Three overs of quiet followed before Banton, strong through the covers, unleashed a back foot drive which brought a cry of, “Shot!” before the pattern of the afternoon continued. Quiet. Drive, Quiet. A drive off Gibbon from Banton was a grade above and someone said, “What a lovely shot!” in an awestruck voice. There was a stunning straight drive from Umeed off Gibbon too; and “Nice shot,” was the accolade when he drove Finch through the on side. “Controlled accumulation“ my note says as the pair pushed Somerset along at three runs an over.

And then, the afternoon flipped with a wicket against the run of play. Umeed came half forward with the straightest of defensive bats, as he had been doing all afternoon. This time though the ball, from Holder, took a faint edge and was caught by Gareth Roderick behind the stumps to a cheer from the Worcestershire crowd. “Oh no!” said a Somerset supporter. “Club wicket,” said another. “There will always be one with your number on it,” added a third. “That was a good ball,” said the text from the online watcher. Somerset 175 for 4. Umeed 47. In Holder’s next over, Rew played the left-hander’s version of Umeed’s stroke and was out in identical fashion edging a ball angled across him. Somerset 179 for 5. Rew 3. The crowd was now animated. More so after, in Holder’s next over, Lewis Gregory was leg before wicket playing across the line at a yorker targeting leg stump. The umpire had no hesitation. “Don’t play across your legs,” someone said as the players walked off to tea. Especially to a yorker, he might have added. Somerset 181 for 6. Gregory 1. After Umeed and Banton had taken Somerset to 175 for 3, the sudden demise of the middle order left a sinking feeling. “Holder is a class above,” said the text, and Somerset found themselves in recovery mode.

My teatime perambulation ran into the evening session as the temperature dropped markedly. The breeze was bitter on the face. “It’s only five weeks to The Derby,“ someone remarked. Banton was quickly off the mark after tea with two more fours from successive balls off Holder, one clipped to fine leg, the other driven through midwicket. An edge, also off Holder, past the three slips, took him to his fifty in exactly two hours. Kasey Aldridge was with him but did not long survive. A boundary off the inside edge of Waite did not convince and a limp defensive prod to Waite resulted in another leg before wicket decision. Somerset 210 for 7. Aldridge 9. The Worcestershire crowd, although not large, perhaps six or seven hundred, was now all achatter with Somerset having lost four wickets for 35 runs.

Then, a day that had twisted once, twisted again with the arrival of Migael Pretorius. He came to Somerset with a reputation for being a hard-hitting lower order batter and now he lived up to his reputation. Before he had faced two overs he had found the boundary five times, twice off the edge, once off the inside, the ball passing perilously close to the stumps, but that is part of the stock-in-trade of the lower order hitter, and you have to take it with the rest. Both Waite and Finch were driven square and Finch was pulled to long leg. An extra cover drive for four off Finch took Somerset to 251 for 6. Lower order batting has changed somewhat since the nine, ten, jack of 1965 who could be expected to collapse in minutes against good pace bowling. “Anything above 250 puts us in the game,” the opinion of one Somerset supporter. With the new ball an over away, Pretorius charged on, ten runs came from the next over, from Finch, with a pull behind square and two drives through the covers. Somerset 267 for 7.

The new ball taken, Banton took up cudgels against Holder as the Somerset onslaught continued. Banton had been relatively quiet in his terms, taking only a single boundary. Now he drove Holder twice through the on side in his first over with the new ball, and once straight, all for four. Against Leach, Pretorius edged a drive to a widish ball high across the face of the two slips, the ball running on to the boundary. Before the over was out, Leach targeted the stumps, Pretorius tried to flick it through cover but edged low to Holder, now the only slip. He took the ball two-handed at ground level and seemed to surprise himself by immediately flicking it up and having to run forward to catch it. Somerset 286 for 8. Pretorius 49 from 34 balls in 46 minutes. Partnership 76 in ten overs. Banton responded by driving Holder straight back over his head for six and Ball announced himself by driving Leach through the off side for four. It was a perfectly serviceable stroke for someone with no reputation with the bat. When Banton drove Holder through the covers for four, a Worcestershire voice said, “We were on top. Now, as normal, the wickets have dried up.” With Somerset now past 300, Banton drove Gibbon between long on and long off for another four to cheers from Somerset supporters.

Then a straight drive, not powerfully hit, resulted in Banton dashing for a single to retain the strike. D’Oliviera from mid-off ran across, scooped up the ball and threw at the stumps. Gibbon moved to back up, Banton had to divert around him and the ball struck the stumps with Banton a hairsbreadth short of his ground. There were closed eyes and intakes of breath from Somerset supporters and cheers again from Worcestershire ones. It had been a stunning piece of fielding from D’Oliviera. “Banton two inches short, “said the text. Somerset 309 for 9. Banton 92. Ball 5. It had been an innings of perfectly controlled aggression from Banton and the applause from the Worcestershire crowd recognised that. Shoaib Bashir replaced Banton, played out a maiden from Leach as if trying to reach the close, and then the players and umpires left the field. Somerset had declared. “Bazballery,” someone said.

If Somerset hoped for a wicket in the now failing evening light, they were to be disappointed. Neither Gregory nor Ball looked threatening. Despite there being no floodlights, the day reached its natural end after Worcestershire had faced five overs and taken 14 easy-going runs. The match was in balance according to the conversations I heard as I left the ground and took the long, mercifully downhill, walk back into town as the chill of the day turned into the bitter air of the evening. Cricket in April. It was Somerset’s fourth Championship match of the season. In 1965, the Championship did not start until 5^th May.

Close. Somerset 309 for 9 dec (T. Banton 92, M. Pretorius 49, A.R.I. Umeed 47, J.O. Holder 3-72). Worcestershire 14 for 0. Worcestershire trail by 295 runs with ten first innings wickets standing.