County Championship 2024. Division 1. Somerset v Surrey. 9^th, 10^th, 11^th and 12^th September. Taunton.

This was the last of four Championship matches in 2024 to use the Kookaburra ball.

Brett Randell from New Zealand had just joined Somerset on a three-match contract.

Somerset. L.P. Goldsworthy, A.M. Vaughan, T.A. Lammonby, T.B. Abell, T. Banton, J.E.K. Rew (w), K.L. Aldridge, L. Gregory (c), C. Overton, B.G. Randell, M.J. Leach.

Surrey. R.J. Burns (c), D.P. Sibley, R.S. Patel, B.B.A. Geddes, B.T. Foakes (w), Shakib Al Hasan, T.K. Curran, J. Clark, C.T. Steel, K.A.J Roach, D.J. Worrall.

Overnight. Somerset 317.

Second day – “Awesome for an eighteen-year-old“

The recurring sight of the day, if you were seated at the top of the Trescothick Pavilion, was of Archie Vaughan’s right foot being kicked back towards you before propelling him into his short, hopping run to the wicket. Then, of the ball looping unerringly towards the batter, pitching tantalisingly in front of him and, too often for the batter’s comfort, fizzing past the edge of the bat into James Rew’s gloves. The science involved in spin bowling doubtless played a key role in what was unfolding before us, but it was the spinner’s art which impressed itself indelibly on the eye. In a day of 70 overs, Vaughan bowled 25, conceded only 45 runs and took three wickets. He is 18 years old. This, on top of the 44 runs he had scored opening Somerset’s innings on the first day. He richly deserved the applause he repeatedly received at the end of an over, and again when he returned to field on the boundary. It was a day and a performance to lodge in the memory bank of every Somerset supporter who witnessed it, and of some Surrey ones too if some of the comments I overheard were typical.

Set against Vaughan for the last hour of play was the art of defensive batting against the curving, spinning ball, personified in the form of Ben Foakes, his eyes focused on the approaching ball like those of a kestrel tracking its prey. His bat and pad were seemingly forever aligned, forming a largely impenetrable wall in front of his stumps. From 63 balls, he scored 11 runs, every one of them a single. No risk, no rush of blood, his demeanour offering no hint of doubt. Once, he was beaten by a beauty of a ball from Jack Leach. He came forward, stretching, back foot securely anchored in the crease, bat well forward and straight. The ball pitched, turned and fizzed past the edge to gasps from all around. But he was still there, still defying Leach and Vaughan, and he was still there when the players went off for rain, ready to defy Somerset again on the third morning. After Foakes came to the wicket, 18 of the 21 overs were bowled by Leach and Vaughan. Only 31 runs came from those 18 overs, but it was a mesmerising watch with bat and ball enmeshed, the one with the other, in an intertwined, gargantuan struggle for control of the match.

Before the spin, had come sharp spells of bowling from Craig Overton and Brett Randell. Randell on his debut for Somerset bowled with pace and lift. Twice in his first, three-over, spell, he beat Dom Sibley to have Somerset players and crowd alike wincing. At the other end, Overton beat Rory Burns four times and twice beat Sibley. A wicket would not have been a surprise, but a flurry of boundaries, particularly from Burns who late cut Overton twice to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion, gave the initial honours to Surrey. When Randell switched ends to replace Overton, Burns was quickly on his case, cutting him square to the Priory Bridge Road boundary and then late cutting him to send the ball back to the Colin Atkinson Pavilion.

With Surrey on 36 for 0, Lewis Gregory turned to spin at both ends. Jack Leach had already begun at the River End and Archie Vaughan now joined him at the Trescothick Pavilion End, and those overs of that backward-kicking raised foot and trot to the wicket began. “Come on Archie!” the shout from the crowd before he had delivered a ball. By the time he had delivered two, he had passed the edge of the left-handed Burn’s bat. At the end of the over, the crowd burst into applause. It set a pattern. With the second ball of his second over, he induced Sibley into pulling him. But up, not down. The ball flew a foot or so above Tom Abell’s head at midwicket and Abell does not miss those. “Yeah!” the chorus from the top of the Trescothick Pavilion. Surrey 41 for 1. Deficit 276. Sibley 16 in an hour, an indication of the care with which he had batted, or to which he had been held.

Ryan Patel, another left-hander, joined Burns. “Come on Archie,” again. That was followed by, “Oh blimey!” from a Surrey supporter behind me when, with the last ball of the over, Vaughan sent the ball spinning past the edge of Patel’s bat. It was as if Vaughan was continually hovering at the end of his run and then darting at Surrey like the kestrel hunting its prey. James Rew sprinted over to Vaughan and shook him vigorously by both hands. In his next over he went past the edge of Burns’ bat again, then took the edge of it, but Rew dropped the catch. It must have been excruciatingly disappointing for the 18-year-old, but he calmly took the ball, went back to his mark, kicked that foot back again, hopped in as if nothing had happened and the ball went back past the edge of Burn’s bat. “Again!” the Surrey supporter behind me said. In his next over, Burns swept, missed and was leg before wicket. Cheers from the crowd, and the engulfment of Vaughan by the Somerset team. “Burns is a loss,” said another, worried, Surrey supporter. Surrey 48 for 2. Burns 21. Deficit 269. Somerset and Vaughan hovering. Vaughan 3.2-1-4-2.

Ben Geddes, in only his sixth Championship match, joined Patel. Geddes attempted to reverse sweep Vaughan and was struck on the pad to a huge leg before wicket appeal. “Awesome for an 18-year-old,” said one Surrey supporter. It wasn’t until his ninth over that he dropped short. Patel was immediately onto the ball, flat-batting it back to the Trescothick Pavilion for four. Apart from the celebrations for the fall of the two wickets, it was the first time Vaughan had shown any emotion as he jerked his arm in irritation with himself.

Leach had not held the batters in his thrall to the same extent, although four times in his first eight overs he had bowled maidens, but periodically the ball would be struck to the boundary. Geddes drove him for four twice in an over, once through the covers to the Priory Bridge Road boundary, “Shot!” the cry from a Somerset supporter, and once, sharply square to the Ondaatje Stand where it adjoins the Caddick Pavilion. A pull followed, to the Somerset Stand boundary. Geddes for all his first-class novice credentials was looking more secure than his two predecessors had, but, as lunch approached, one Surrey supporter said, “It’s not spinning as much.” Whether the Kookaburra seam was wearing in line with its reputation I know not, but the ball was now 34 overs old.

Patel had come in at the fall of the first wicket and seemed to have lived something of a charmed life, but he was still there, perhaps because he had concentrated on survival. By lunch, he had faced 65 balls and found the boundary twice. Once, off the ball that had so irritated Vaughan when he dropped short, and once when he attempted to sweep Leach from 18 inches outside off stump and the ball flew off the bottom edge to within inches of the stumps on its way to the boundary. Otherwise, he had scored 11 from 63 balls. His innings was representative of much of the Surrey innings. Grim, measured, defence dotted with an occasional gesture of defiance where the bowler strayed. Surrey reached lunch on 91 for 2, but after Somerset had bowled 37 overs in the session. The run rate was less than two and a half runs an over. It had been a hard-fought, give-nothing morning between two determined sides.

It was a gruelling watch, but an enthralling one for all that. A throwback to the days before pace was all and sides might bowl 120 overs in a day. Much hung on the match it is true, for both sides, and that added to the atmosphere. However, it was the tussle for supremacy in the middle, where technical skills and their controlling minds searched for a way to open up a chink in the armour of the opposition. The continuing tightness of the cricket gripped the attention and raised the spirit. Perhaps the Kookaburra had a point after all.

By the time I reached the stairs at the back of the Trescothick Pavilion to begin my lunchtime circumnavigation, a blast of reality had awoken me from my dream of a spinning cricketing paradise. “We needed two more wickets,” said the voice of a man who gets straight to the point, however uncomfortable it is. He was right of course; the Surrey dressing room would be the more likely to be smiling after the morning session. They had survived the most effective overs of the ball, a forensic inquisition from Vaughan, and a weather forecast for rain after tea had firmed up. With only two Surrey wickets gone, that enemy of sides under pressure to win a first-class cricket match, time, was starting its long, inexorable march. Even if Somerset kept in touch with Surrey on the scoreboard, time would tick ever faster once the third day was underway, especially if a significant chunk of the second was washed away. In short, Somerset needed wickets. They needed to keep the match moving forward at least in step with ticking time. While Surrey held their wickets, Somerset could not progress. It would suit Surrey if the match stood still, for whatever else happened, Somerset could not win unless they could take the remaining 17 Surrey wickets. For the rest of my circumnavigation, I carried that thought.

Surrey’s score moved a little faster in the overs after lunch, three an over. Geddes brought up the fifty partnership with Patel with an off drive off Vaughan for four to Gimblett’s Hill but, before the over was out, Vaughan had gone past the edge of Patel’s bat. “Oh dear, well beaten,” said the Surrey supporter behind me. Geddes attacked Vaughan again, this time with a cover drive off the back foot to the Somerset Stand. Gregory replaced Leach, bowling from the River End, with Aldridge, and he beat Geddes with each of his first three balls. “Three times,” said the Surrey supporter as if trying to convince himself of what he had seen. The struggle for control of the match was incessant, but Surrey’s wickets still stood.

Then a brief Surrey spurt. Patel slog swept Vaughan to the Somerset Stand for four, hooked Aldridge fine to the cover store for four more and Geddes drove Vaughan to deep midwicket for a single to register his fifty. But, with acceleration comes risk. Two balls later Geddes swept Vaughan, connected only with the top edge and Lewis Goldsworthy took the catch at midwicket. Surrey 128 for 3. Geddes 50. Deficit 189. “Shame, they were going quite well,” said a Surrey voice. “Come on Vaughany,” the Somerset shout.

Another wicket at last, but cloud was now covering the sky as the forecast began to bear fruit, although, for the moment at least, there seemed no threat from the light. With Foakes now at the crease ready to begin his grim vigil, the Surrey innings took on something of a two-speed affair. Foakes played with that endlessly straight, ball-smothering bat, interspersed with an occasional single, his sole objective, survival.

Patel was a little more assertive. Even so, he and Foakes managed just two runs an over as Surrey focused on retaining wickets and eating time. A back foot cover drive off Aldridge reached the Somerset Stand, but that was followed by another 11 overs without a boundary. Leach returned to replace Aldridge, Vaughan endlessly trotted in, or so it seemed, the ball did not pass the bat, and Surrey inched their way to 153 for 3, eschewing risk, eating more time. Now, the air developed that chill which is the point rider for rain. Patel reached fifty with a single a ball after he had pulled Vaughan to the Priory Bridge Road boundary. Randell returned to give Vaughan a rest, or to try something different. Patel pulled and hooked him for four in successive overs to take Surrey to 167 for 3, now past halfway to Somerset’s 317, a total which was beginning to look inadequate, umbrellas were beginning to go up and Foakes was on that glacial 11.

When, on the cusp of the tea interval, the rain drove the players from the field, two more runs had been added, but Surrey were stubbornly still only three wickets down. The Somerset bowlers had stuck hard to their task, but so had the Surrey batters. Vaughan had bowled exceptionally well to take three wickets and the sight of that right foot kicking back and then propelling him towards the batter may become iconic. Leach had caused the batters problems too, but on a pitch offering some help to the spinners, he had not looked as effective as Vaughan and had not taken a wicket. The Somerset hope was that Leach was gradually finding his rhythm and would become more effective as the match wore on. For the moment though, the two teams had wrestled the game to a point where Surrey just held the advantage. As concerning to Somerset supporters was the fact that, with half the playing time gone, Surrey still had 17 wickets standing, their grip on the Championship a little tighter than it had been at half past ten.

Close. Somerset 317. Surrey 169 for 3. Surrey trail by 148 runs with seven first innings wickets standing.