County Championship 2024. Division 1. Somerset v Durham 29th, 30th and 31st August and 1st September. Taunton.
This was the third match of 2024 in which the Kookaburra ball was used.
Jake Ball replaced Migael Pretorius under ECB concussion regulations after Somerset’s first innings.
Somerset. A.R.I. Umeed, L.P. Goldsworthy, T.A. Lammonby, T.B. Abell, T. Banton, J.E.K. Rew (w), A.M. Vaughan, K.L. Aldridge, L. Gregory (c), C. Overton, M.J. Leach.
Durham. A.Z. Lees, B.S. McKinney, S.G. Borthwick (c), O.G. Robinson (w), A.J. Turner, B.F.W. de Leede, B.A. Carse, B.A. Raine, G.S. Drissell, C.F. Parkinson, D.M. Hogg.
Toss. Somerset. Elected to bat.
First day 29th August – “What a day that was!”
You would think that starting a circumnavigation of a small ground like Taunton forty minutes before the match is due to start would give you ample time to get back to your seat in time for the first ball. Not when you have been coming to the ground to watch Somerset since 1958 it doesn’t. I met seven people I knew, and talking cricket to seven people consumes more than forty minutes. The last conversation was still going on behind the covers store when the first ball was bowled. Ben Raine bowled it from the River End, Andy Umeed came forward to defend and edged the ball towards the right shin of Ashton Turner at second slip. Turner reached down, knocked the ball up a few inches and caught it. As Umeed walked off, the Colin Atkinson Pavilion clock showed the time as four minutes to eleven. Someone checked their phone which claimed it was 10.59. Out before the start.
It was an ideal day for watching cricket, bright sun, high white cloud, and warm with a breeze that didn’t chill. By my count, at least 2,000 people, probably more, had packed themselves into the stands that were open, and the ground buzzed with highly charged chatter all day. The four closed blocks of the Somerset Stand looked stark and bereft against the animated atmosphere of the rest of the ground. I was still talking when Lewis Goldsworthy, opening in place of Tom Kohler-Cadmore, was surprised by some lift and edged Daniel Hogg just short of second slip before the ball ran away for four. I had just reached my seat in the upper level of the Trescothick Pavilion when Hogg again found the edge of Goldsworthy’s bat. This time the ball flew wide of third slip and ran for another four. A long morning beckoned. Then, when Hogg surprised Tom Lammonby with his lift and struck the bat rather than the other way around, the ball looped to Ben McKinney at midwicket and Somerset were 25 for 2. Lammonby 9. The Durham opening bowlers were making the ball talk. Given that Somerset probably needed to win this match if they were to retain any hope of catching Surrey at the top of the table, the start must have raised the collective blood pressure of their supporters by enough to trigger a health warning at the doctor’s surgery beyond the Brian Rose Gates.
With Somerset on the back foot, the bowlers continued to press and the, mainly thick, edge of the bat continued to be employed more often than was comfortable. But, and this was key to the remainder of the day, Tom Abell had joined Goldsworthy and together they responded to the Durham pressure with pressure of their own. There was no hint of retreat into a defensive shell, no opportunity for the Durham bowlers to dominate defending batters. A thick edge for two from Goldsworthy off Raine bisected the slips and gully but was followed by an off drive for four to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion. A thick edge past fourth slip from Abell off Hogg was followed before the over was out by a perfectly leaned into on drive to the Ondaatje boundary by Goldsworthy and you could feel the growing ripple of chatter across the ground being fuelled by Somerset’s riposte to Durham’s probing.
When Durham brought Bas de Leede into the attack from the River End, Abell greeted him with a pair of back foot square drives which exuded class and raced to the Caddick Pavilion boundary, the second taking Somerset to 50 for 2 in the 11th over. A cover drive for four to the Somerset Stand from Goldsworthy off Brydon Carse brought a chorus of, “Shot!” Somerset were matching Durham blow for blow, but off the next ball, Goldsworthy came forward to defend and edged to Ollie Robinson behind the stumps. “Oh dear,” said someone behind me. Somerset 68 for 3. Goldsworthy 38 from 51 balls in seven minutes over the hour. It was almost, “Oh dear,” again when Tom Banton edged his first ball, from Carse, over the slip-gully cordon for four. It had been a thrust and counter-thrust start but it was advantage Durham.
Immediately, they brought Callum Parkinson’s slow left arm spin into the attack from the River End while Abell and Banton focused briefly on rebuilding. Just 11 runs came from the next six overs, but crucially no wicket fell. The atmosphere should have been tense, for another wicket would have put Somerset under intense pressure. The chatter though buzzed on without interruption, perhaps because there hadn’t been a Championship match at Taunton for nearly two months and people were catching up. And then, partnership established, Abell and Banton took the attack to Durham again. A square drive for four from Banton off Raine, an effortless steer past the slips from Abell to the covers store and a very fast run two from a turn to square leg, both off Parkinson, took Somerset to 100 for 3. When George Drissell, once briefly of Somerset, began to bowl his off spin from the River End, Banton promptly struck him for a steepling six which landed on the concourse behind the Hildreth Stand floodlight causing the endless chatter to erupt into cheers.
With Somerset pushing hard, there was a mutter of approval when it was announced that spectators would be permitted on the outfield at lunchtime. That turned to head-shaking laughter when it was announced that spectators would not be allowed on the outfield because a group of local ground staff had been invited onto the outfield. Tom Banton though quickly got the attention back on the cricket and the buzz of chatter going again when he drove Drissell through extra cover to the Priory Bridge Road boundary to register the fifty partnership with Abell. Another run took Somerset to lunch on 120 for 3 and, after a prize fight of a morning, parity.
In accordance with my practice in 2024, I undertook a second circumnavigation at lunchtime. Disgruntlement heard at previous matches about the ground management rumbled on, someone commented that he had not experienced bag searches at any of the grounds he had visited for Championship cricket in 2024, although news that a change in legislation that would probably require it was beginning to filter out. The closure of the Somerset Stand and Brian Rose Gates continued to rankle, and the sight of 30 visiting ground staff huddled at one end of the square while, one practice wicket apart, the rest of the outfield was deserted raised a few eyebrows.
Beyond that, those from afar who only visit Taunton once a year caught up with one another on news. As to the morning’s play, the response of Goldsworthy, Abell and Banton to the early setbacks had lifted spirits, and anticipation was more in evidence than anxiety. And the Championship? Was it still possible? Was Surrey’s 35-point lead too great to overcome? Hope and reality uncomfortably rattled together in the conversation, but I doubt there was a single Somerset supporter in the ground who, however doubtful, could entirely suppress that ever-persistent shaft of hope.
As is customary with my circumnavigations, this one took longer than the lunch interval of a first-class match. I found myself completing the second half of it, including sitting on the step of Gimblett’s Hill for a few overs while I chatted with some of the occupants and Abell and Banton set the tone for the afternoon. It was to be an afternoon filled with flowing drives, sharp or deft cuts and dismissive pulls. Idle cricket chat while two Somerset batters find the boundary with ease is one of the better ways to spend half an hour during the early afternoon of a Championship match. By the time I had ambled and dawdled my way back to my seat, they had taken Somerset to 162 for 3 at four an over. The alarums of the first hour were losing their significance and drifting into the cricket memories storage compartment of the mind. Along the way, Abell had driven Carse sharply square to the Somerset Stand for four to register his fifty.
Back in my seat, the first over yielded eight runs, a pair of twos from Abell followed by a straight drive to the Lord Ian Botham Stand for four which brought a cry, tinged with awe, of, “Shot!” It brought up the century partnership between Abell and Banton. The next over brought nine runs, including an open-faced drive from Banton off Daniel Hogg with perhaps a hint of edge which crossed the boundary in front of Gimblett’s Hill. It was immediately followed by a push straight of mid-on for a single which brought up Banton’s fifty in an hour and a half from 72 balls. An off drive to Gimblett’s Hill from Abell took Somerset to 179 for 3 from 42 overs with still 54 overs to be bowled. And the chatter, animated and incessant, continued as an endless backdrop to the day .
And all the while, on the runs flowed. Abell, now taking the lead while Banton expertly rotated the strike, glanced Raine to fine leg for four. The stroke raised a few eyebrows because of Abell’s propensity to be caught down the leg side when glancing, but his eye was well set and the stroke perfectly played. Had so much not rested on the match, it would have been batting to relax the day away to, and wax lyrical about, but with the Championship, if an unlikely prospect, still within the bounds of possibility, the underlying tension never went away. Indeed, as the score rose and the prospect grew a little closer, the tension cranked up a notch. With Somerset passing 200 with apparent ease, Abell drove Parkinson to the Hildreth Stand for four and with the neatest of late cuts deflected de Leede to the same boundary.
And then, with an aura of inevitability, Abell pulled de Leede to a shout of, “Yes!” and completed the single which brought up his century. It had taken him eight minutes under three hours and had been an exhibition of near faultless classical batting. He hugged Banton, the ground burst into applause and cheers, and most present rose to their feet. Somerset 214 for 3. Whether the Kookaburra ball was a factor in Somerset’s rate and ease of scoring and lack of wickets as it softened I cannot say. However, it was not the focus of discussion in the way it had been in the first two matches of the season. Indeed, I wondered how many were aware that it was again in use.
In the face of the continuing onslaught, de Leede, from the Trescothick Pavilion End, resorted to a barrage of bouncers. Abell and Banton responded with hooks and pulls. A hooked two towards the Priory Bridge Road boundary from Abell brought up the one hundred and fifty partnership. A pull from Banton brought four more runs as it bounced over the Priory Bridge Road boundary, now with the temporary stand removed, and ten runs came from the over. De Leede returned to pitching the ball up, only conceded two, and the short ball retreated from the scene. As if Abell’s dream of an innings would never end, classic on and off drives for four off Parkinson and Carse followed. But, like a real dream which ends just as it reaches its height, Abell stretched forward in defence to Parkinson and edged the ball straight to Scott Borthwick at slip. So inevitable had Abell’s progress seemed, if a meteorite had struck the pitch it would have caused less surprise than that edge. Somerset 253 for 4. Abell 124. The partnership with Banton had yielded 185 at four runs an over. And then, a second meteorite struck. To the first ball of the final over before tea, Banton attempted to push Parkinson into the off side and another edge found its way into Borthwick’s hands. “Parkinson is definitely turning it,” someone said. Somerset 260 for 5. Banton 73. The two wickets had dented Somerset’s position, but from 26 for 2, most would have taken 260 for 5 at tea, and with Craig Overton batting at ten, Somerset had much power to add to it.
Archie Vaughan’s first-class debut at the age of 19 looked a little pensive at first, but he and the 20-year-old Rew, already with seven first-class centuries and averaging over 40, began to forge a partnership. Slowly at first, but the right-handed Vaughan’s first first-class boundary looked assured enough and came from a square cut off George Drissell to the Caddick Pavilion. Rew meanwhile employed the sweep against both spinners and a reverse sweep against Drissell, all reaching the boundary, the reverse sweep reaching Gimblett’s Hill to take Somerset past 300 with still 21 overs left in the day. With the long on fielder right on the Gimblett’s Hill boundary, Rew drove Parkinson over him for six and then drove for a single to register the fifty partnership with Vaughan, such was the whirlwind of passing Somerset milestones.
Vaughan had been the quieter partner, scoring 16 of the 51 runs, but he was drawing attention as he played with apparent calm. He did not have quite the power of stroke of Abell or Rew. In an innings of 30, he reached the boundary twice, but with two threes, three twos and a steady string of singles, his placement was excellent and in a partnership of 68 at just under four runs an over, he almost matched Rew’s more belligerent strike rate. He succumbed to the fourth delivery with the new ball. Hogg beat him with the first, he drove the third through the covers for two and was out, leg before wicket, trying to turn the fourth into the on side. It was a solid debut with the bat, and it had helped move Somerset on to 328 for 6 with still 14 overs left in the day.
Kasey Aldridge joined Rew as Somerset’s batting strength continued to emerge from the Caddick Pavilion. Briefly they retrenched, but then Rew, after opening the face to Raine to guide the ball to Gimblett’s Hill for four, took 16 off an over from Carse when he replaced Hogg as the cheers continued to sound out above the chatter. In the 16, there were two twos and three fours, all drives, one off an open face through backward point to the Priory Bridge Road boundary, one straight back to the Trescothick Pavilion to a chorus of shouts of, “Shot!” and the last through extra cover to the Ondaatje Stand to a cry of, “Lovely shot!” Rew’s innings was not all boundaries. Once, three twos came in an over from Parkinson, persevering from the River End, including one well run off an angled bat.
Aldridge played a supportive role as the score rose towards 400, the fifty partnership with Rew coming when he attempted to turn Parkinson into the leg side and the ball ran off his pads to fine leg for four leg byes. A hook from Rew off Carse in the final over sent the ball fine to the Lord Ian Botham Stand boundary and the score to 395 for 6 with Rew on 89. Three balls later the umpires called enough and the players walked off as the Somerset crowd walked on air.
“What a day that was!” the immediate comment. Abell had scored a sublime century and Rew was 11 runs short of his eighth. Perhaps sublime is not the word to describe Rew’s innings, but he had been sure-footed and his hitting had at times been ferocious. He had scored at not far short of a run a ball as he punished the Durham bowling unmercifully. Banton’s 73 had been an innings which demonstrated his new-found skill and maturity as a red ball batter and had been crucial in supporting Abell. Vaughan had made a noteworthy debut. Aldridge had played with care at the end to help ensure that Somerset reached the second morning with enough wickets in hand to push for a commanding score and a fourth and fifth batting point. And, finally, with Somerset having Jack Leach, Vaughan and Goldsworthy in the side, the pitch had shown early signs of turn. What a day indeed.
Close. Somerset 395 for 6.
'Farmer White' Somerset Cricket Writing 