County Championship 2024. Division 1. Somerset v Hampshire 26^th, 27^th and 28^th September. Old Trafford.

Tom Banton was unavailable due to an ankle injury.

Somerset. A.M. Vaughan, T.A. Lammonby, A.R.I. Umeed, T.B. Abell, T. Kohler-Cadmore, J.E.K. Rew (w), K.L. Aldridge, L. Gregory (c), M.J. Leach, A.R.J. Ogborne, S. Bashir.

Hampshire. T.E. Albert, F.S. Middleton, N.R.T. Gubbins, J.M. Vince (c), T.J. Prest, L.A. Dawson, F.S. Organ, B.C. Brown (w), J.K. Fuller, K.J. Abbott, Mohammad Abbas.

Overnight. Somerset 136 and 60 for 4. Hampshire 196. Scores level with Somerset having six second innings wickets standing.

Final day 28^th September – Hat trick …

Out! Hat trick! Third ball of the Hampshire second innings. Hampshire 0 for 3. James Vince gone. That is how quickly the mind works when the ball is travelling from the edge of the bat towards second slip. Lewis Gregory, bowling, lifted his arm, one finger pointing to the sky in triumph. It was the third edge in those first three balls. All flew towards the wicketkeeper and slip cordon. Gregory’s fighting 59 had just given Somerset an unexpected lead of 120 and a ghost of a chance of winning this game. Now, that third ball, speeding from the bat edge, low towards Kasey Aldridge’s ankles supercharged the hope. The entire crowd, in unison, jerked forward in their seats.

Two balls before, the first of the Hampshire innings, I had been behind the Trescothick Pavilion when a chorus of sharp cheers erupted. “Sounds like a wicket,” the person next to me said. “It is a wicket,” replied someone just beyond the edge of the Pavilion. Toby Albert had played a straight, defensive stroke to Gregory. There had though been no forward movement from Albert and the ball had swung neatly, if marginally, away. A replay showed a distinct edge and the ball being caught by James Rew diving to his right. Hampshire 0 for 1.

After illness in the winter of 2023/24, it took me the summer of 2024 to rebuild my fitness sufficiently to climb to the top of the Trescothick Pavilion without becoming breathless. Now, back in my seat in the elevated section, I was breathless again so quickly had I rushed up those stairs, some of them two at a time. But I was there in time to see Gregory running in for his second ball. This time, he bowled around the wicket from wide of the crease, the ball angled in, targeting the left-handed Nick Gubbins’ off stump or just outside. Gubbins had to play. He edged the ball low but straight towards Andy Umeed’s ankles at fourth slip. Umeed bent and, in as understated a way as is possible, took the catch. The thousand or so people in the ground let rip a colossal roar, it was so loud in the top of the Trescothick Pavilion that it pummelled the eardrums. It was deafening. Then people chuckled in disbelief, it had all happened so quickly. Hampshire 0 for 2. A lost cause suddenly had hope, visions of the final day against Surrey were resurrected. Miracles do sometimes happen at Taunton.

Eyes back on the middle. James Vince to the crease. Gregory in again. This time the ball took a line just outside the right-hander’s off stump. Vince moved behind it, offered a straight bat, the ball shaded away, clipped the edge again and flew towards Aldridge’s feet. Gregory began to celebrate. Aldridge’s hands cupped around the ball, or so it seemed, but as the hope soared, the ball appeared on the other side of the hands and ran far enough behind them for Vince to run two. Instant deflation. Disbelief of a different sort. The pit of the stomach cavernous in its emptiness. “He’s dropped it,” someone said as if trying to convince themselves it had really happened. The two runs hurt too. When your side is defending 120, any runs hurt. But the drop wounded. It broke the spell that the first two wickets had created, a spell which had the crowd in its grip and seemed to have the Hampshire batters in its grip too. But that ball running away behind the slips took the spell with it, and the anguish and disappointment which followed swept away the explosion of anticipation that had filled that instant when the ball was between the edge of the bat and Aldridge’s feet. The pit of the stomach felt heavy indeed.

The day had begun with no thought of such a start to the Hampshire innings. The match scores had been level overnight, with Somerset already four wickets down and seemingly with little hope of forging a lead which might challenge Hampshire. With the ball only 22 overs old, it would mean surviving early spells from Kyle Abbott and Mohammad Abbas, something which Somerset had struggled to do, against Abbott in particular, since before the pandemic. Victory seemed an unlikely prospect. Ben Brown standing up to the stumps as Tom Kohler-Cadmore faced Abbas suggested movement. Before Abbas’s second over was out, Kohler-Cadmore had offered a straight, defensive bat, the ball had swung in, but perhaps not by as much as Kohler-Cadmore had anticipated. It passed the outside edge and neatly removed the off bail, its absence looking stark from the distance of the top of the Trescothick Pavilion. Somerset 62 for 5. Kohler-Cadmore 17. Somerset lead 2. Hope sinking.

That brought Aldridge to the wicket. His start was not propitious. He edged his first ball between second and third slip. There was, as so often in the modern way, a wide gap between the two. The ball flew through the gap at catchable height and crossed the Lord Ian Botham Stand boundary for four. Another edge past the slips followed. A glance off Abbott steered the ball across the boundary in front of Gimblett’s Hill, but it brought a faintly ironic, “Hooray,” for Aldridge had looked far from secure. When, in Abbott’s next over, he attempted, with no foot movement, to steer a ball pitched well outside off stump past the slips, he edged it low towards the now more traditionally spaced slips. Tom Prest, at third slip, dived fast and low to his left and took a brilliant catch. Somerset 75 for 6. Aldridge 11. Lead 15. Someone in front of me stood up and said, “I have to go into town, this will probably be over before I get back.” No one argued.

Enter Lewis Gregory. Liam Dawson, another thorn in Somerset’s side in recent years, had replaced Abbas at the Trescothick Pavilion End with his slow left arm spin. Gregory, who had already driven his fourth ball, from Abbott, through the covers to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion for four, now set about Dawson. In Dawson’s first over to him, Gregory lofted the ball straight towards the Trescothick Pavilion for four, then straight again, one bounce across the rope, the ball just clearing the flailing hand of the straight deep mid-off fielder as he ran desperately towards it. Next, Gregory drove through the covers to the old Legends Square boundary and that spot where the ghosts of those who used to frequent the old Stragglers bar reside. They would have gloried in that stroke.

And finally, off the last ball of the over, Gregory struck Dawson straight into the lower level of the Trescothick Pavilion. As boundary followed boundary the cheering grew in intensity. At first defiant, by the end of the over there were cheers of hope. There were 19 runs from the over including the single with which James Rew, at the crease overnight, had presented Gregory with the bowling. It took Somerset to 98 for 6. The cheers subsided into a hubbub of expectant chatter, although perhaps expectant of more defiant boundaries than of any realistic hope of victory. A cold, hard look at the scoreboard revealed that, even after that explosive over, Somerset were still only 38 runs ahead and still had only four wickets in hand. 

Now Gregory changed down a gear or two and became speculative in his approach with singles rather than boundaries the main scoring fare as he and Rew edged Somerset forward. Then Rew attacked Abbas. A drive through straight midwicket rapped the Priory Bridge Road boundary boards, but two balls later he attempted to drive through the covers, the ball swung away late and Albert took a stunning catch, leaping high to his left at second slip. Somerset 108 for 7. Rew 19. Lead 48. Virtually all hope gone.

Lewis Gregory is the most laid-back-looking cricketer on any cricket field, but his demeanour belies a core of steel and an unbending determination to win. Now, with Jack Leach, not without an inner toughness of his own, he set about trying to make the impossible possible. Gregory made no attempt to protect Leach, both ends needing to perform if Somerset were to make progress. The two of them worked together to keep the score moving and the strike rotating despite winning the match being a distant prospect.

When Leach edged Dawson past slip towards the Lord Ian Botham Stand, he and Gregory ran their hearts out to turn two into three. There was no acceptance of defeat in that running. When Leach drove Abbas through the covers to the Somerset Stand for four, someone shouted, “Shot,” with perhaps a trace of hope in their voice. Then three singles came from the rest of the over as Leach and Gregory pushed the scoreboard on, 67 now the lead. Not remotely enough, but building. In Abbas’s next over, Gregory drove through the on side to the Hildreth Stand and cut past the slips to the Trescothick Stand. Two more singles took the score to 137 for 7. Lead 77. Gregory and Leach were playing with such intent and precision that it was easy to find yourself wondering, just wondering, might they be able to stay there long enough to add enough to give themselves a shadow of chance with the ball? Until you looked at the scoreboard. That, as always, landed reality in your lap with a bump.

They saw off Abbas, James Fuller replacing him at the River End. When Gregory cut Fuller over backward point to the Ondaatje boundary, the shout of, “Hooray!” was no longer ironic. Then Dawson was withdrawn from the attack to be replaced by the off spin of Felix Organ. Gregory immediately drove Organ straight to bring up his fifty to loud, extended applause. A cut from Leach off Organ brought three more quickly gathered runs to a shout of, “Well run!” and applause from a now fired up crowd.

“Returning at the River End, Kyle Abbott,” the announcement. “I think they have had enough of this,” the comment from in front of me. Abbott’s destructive record against Somerset lent credence to the comment. Gregory responded by driving his first ball through the covers to the Priory Bridge Road boundary to take Somerset’s lead past a hundred. Then, Abbott’s fourth ball, slightly angled in, pitched a foot outside off stump, Gregory drove down the line and was bowled, the middle stump left drunkenly askew. “That looked like it jagged in,” said the message from the online watcher. A live stream replay showed by just how much. The ball looked unplayable. Somerset 163 for 8. Gregory 59 from 47 balls. Lead 103. Reality had landed again, this time with the clatter of ball on stumps.

Leach resisted for a while and struck back with two more perfectly driven fours, one square off Organ to the Priory Bridge Road boundary and one through the covers to the Garner Gates off Abbott. But the end was coming and it could be felt. Alfie Ogborne was soon caught behind for one off Organ trying to cut, and Shoaib Bashir was bowled by Organ for nought. Somerset 180 all out. Leach had reached 39 not out in an hour and 20 minutes and Somerset had their 120 lead.

Lunch was taken, giving 40 minutes to speculate on Somerset’s prospects and to undertake my final circumnavigation of the season, saying my goodbyes and ‘winter wells’ as I went.  “We will need to have them 30 for 5 to have any chance,” one prediction as I stopped on Gimblett’s Hill for a chat. It didn’t seem very far wide of the mark. Even after a couple of early wickets, teams chasing small targets are inclined to recover and there would be no time for Somerset to regroup and reapply pressure. The comment highlighted Somerset’s predicament. Gregory and Leach’s stand had rekindled hope, but it was faint hope and would need the sort of cricketing miracle that 30 for 5 would represent to be realised.

Had Gregory’s hat trick materialised after I had bounced up the Trescothick Pavilion steps, 30 for 5 might just have been possible, for Hampshire might, for a few moments, have been like rabbits in the thrall of headlights. But the sudden release of pressure in the instant of that dropped catch seemed audible. It was as if the hopes of the entire crowd had suddenly dissipated like air from a fast-deflating balloon. It was a devastating moment. Gregory’s hands had briefly encased his head in disbelief as he completed his follow-through before dropping to his side to reveal a wry smile and the regaining of his composure almost before it had been lost.

Gregory and Ogborne beat the bat more than once in the remainder of that over and the next to revive a shadow of the hope which had surrounded Gregory’s start, but Vince and Fletcha Middleton survived. Somerset had no alternative but to commit all to attack. Gregory placed four slips which inevitably left gaps in the field which Vince exploited with three boundaries in two overs, each peeling away chunks of Somerset’s precious lead. Then Gregory struck again, getting a ball to Middleton cut in off the pitch enough for the umpire to raise his finger in response to Rew’s appeal for a catch off the inside edge. The delay between appeal and raised finger was long enough for Gregory to reach the slip cordon and start celebrating while Middleton walked off looking less than happy with the decision, but the reaction of the Somerset fielders had been instantaneous, and the scoreboard again revealed the reality. Hampshire 21 for 3. Middleton 2. One hundred more to win. Could Somerset? Could they? Could they yet pull off the second impossible win at Taunton in succession?

Prest replaced Middleton and when he drove Gregory square past the diving point fielder to the Somerset Stand for four, the score reached 31 for 3. “They are more than a quarter of the way there,” the worried comment from the man in front of me, and the comment that Somerset would need to reduce Hampshire to 30 for 5 to have a chance bored into the mind. Gregory, seemingly Somerset’s main hope with Ogborne bowling with purpose but without effect, continued his spell into its fifth over. An edge from Prest teased the hope, but fell well short of a brilliant stop at third slip by Lammonby. Then, Prest attempted to cut Gregory’s next ball and edged it inches over Lammonby’s stretching fingertips at third slip. Close, oh so close, but another four runs had disappeared from Hampshire’s target.

After Ogborne conceded 13 runs in two overs, Leach replaced him. When Prest attempted to reverse sweep Leach’s third ball, he was struck on the pad squarely in front of the stumps. There was a huge appeal for leg before wicket and the umpire’s finger was raised. “Yes!” the shout, and Prest was on his way for 13 looking as unhappy as Middleton had before him. Hampshire, 46 for 4, still needed 74. It wasn’t 30 for 5, but hope was clinging on.

Dawson, as much a thorn in Somerset’s flesh as Abbott, joined Vince. It would be a crucial partnership for Hampshire and, batting together, two crucial wickets for Somerset to take quickly. There was a huge leg before wicket appeal against Dawson before Leach’s over was out. Kohler-Cadmore at backward point also made a spectacular attempt to catch Dawson off a cut but the ball flew just too wide and four more runs fell away from Hampshire’s remaining target which fell to 67. Every Hampshire boundary was now like a hammer blow to Somerset’s hopes. When Dawson steered Aldridge through gully to the Hildreth Stand for three, Hampshire passed halfway. It wasn’t just the fast-shrinking target that destroyed Somerset’s remaining hopes, it was the lack of obvious threat when Gregory wasn’t bowling. Even Leach did not look as effective as he had been in the first innings.

The game was moving quickly now, its inevitable conclusion racing towards us. The hopes raised by Gregory’s first three balls were now gone, Vince was playing with ease and, with Dawson, was scoring at five runs an over. Hampshire reached 78 for 4 when Dawson cut Leach to the boundary and the target fell to 43 with no sign of a wicket. When Vince reached his fifty with a four driven through the off side off Bashir, Hampshire’s target was 31. Vince was eventually stumped off Leach for 54 while walking down the wicket to attempt a colossal pull, but by then Hampshire needed only 16 and the wicket made no impact. Dawson hit the winning runs, a steepling miscue for two which Ogborne, running hard towards the Caddick Pavilion boundary, dropped while trying to catch it over his shoulder. “Dawson again!” said the text, as it always seems to be against Hampshire, at least when it isn’t Abbott. But, oh how the chimaera of hope kindled by Gregory’s innings and first over stuck in the mind.

Result. Somerset 136 (T. Kohler-Cadmore 63, L.A. Dawson 4-28, K.J. Abbott 4-37) and 180 (L. Gregory 59, K.J. Abbott 5-37, Mohammad Abbas 3-54). Hampshire 196 (T.E. Albert 77, M.J. Leach 5-52) and 121 for 5 (J.M. Vince 54, L.A. Dawson 44*, L. Gregory 3-30) Hampshire won by five wickets. Hampshire 19 points. Somerset 3 points.