County Championship 2025. Division 1. Somerset v Worcestershire. 4^th, 5^th, 6^th and 7^th April. Taunton.

Will Smeed was unavailable for selection due to injury.

Somerset.  A.M. Vaughan, S.R. Dickson, T.A. Lammonby, T.B. Abell, T. Banton, J.E.K. Rew (w), L. Gregory (c), K.L. Aldridge, C. Overton, J.H. Davey, M.J. Leach.

Worcestershire. G.H. Roderick (w), J.D. Libby, Kashif Ali, E.A. Brookes, A.J. Hose, B.L. D’Oliveira (c), M.J. Waite, T.A.I. Taylor, B.M.J. Allison, T.I. Hinley, A.W. Finch.

Overnight. Worcestershire 154. Somerset 637 for 6. Somerset lead by 483 runs with four first innings wickets standing.

Third day – A pitch for the 1930s

For a Somerset supporter sitting at the top of the Trescothick Pavilion with that aerial view of the playing area and watching Worcestershire bat through a long afternoon and evening felt like what the mind’s eye imagines watching cricket was like in the 1930s. Bowlers endlessly and smoothly running in, balls coming invitingly through off featherbed pitches, batters effortlessly pushing them into and through gaps to deep fielders lazily moving to intercept the ball as the batters amble for tacitly agreed singles. Perfectly struck boundaries punctuate the picture, surprisingly often struck in pairs with long stretches of calm in between. The vision is gilded with that ageless backdrop that is the Quantocks in all their sunlit spring colour and glory or, depending on where you were sit in the ground, that magnificent sandstone edifice that is St James church. The Quantocks and St James were there in the 1930s too of course, as were those now ancient doyens of Somerset cricket, Jack ‘Farmer’ White, Wally Luckes and Arthur Wellard as they plied their trade where in 2025 Jack Leach, James Rew and Craig Overton strutted their stuff. Sometimes times change but remain the same.

The third afternoon of this match wasn’t the 1930s of course, any more than the 1930s were always like that idyllic dream. At any time, a dose of rain followed by hot sun on an uncovered pitch would produce an entirely different picture. In 2025, sprinted singles were run, bats were occasionally beaten, an occasional edge would bring a batter fortuitous runs and the bowler a look of an ancient Greek on whom the gods had frowned. One attempt at a run out as the batters frantically ran two resulted in James Rew missing the return and the ball running for four overthrows, thus giving Brett D’Oliveira a fortuitous ‘six’. How his grandfather’s eyes, in the 1960s and 70s rather than the 30s, would have twinkled had he been the recipient of such gratuitous good fortune, and perhaps the grandson’s did too, for as far as can be told from eighty yards away, this match was being played in the best of cricketing spirit.

For a Somerset supporter, it was a long afternoon, but the day had begun with some Somerset derring-do from Tom Banton and Lewis Gregory. The night before, after Worcestershire’s long and unproductive day and a half in the field, most I spoke to had expected an overnight declaration and an immediate attempt to upend the Worcestershire second innings while the sleep was still in their batters’ eyes, for this was a pitch which might have done service in the Elysian Fields where Messrs White, Luckes and Wellard now play their cricket, or indeed in that dream of the 1930s. Perhaps giving Tom Banton the opportunity to bat for more records after he had passed Somerset’s highest-ever first-class score on the first day was a factor. After all, the calculation may have been, with two full days left, and the weather set fair, that there was, as Francis Drake might have put it in yet another time, time enough for Banton to chase his record and to beat Worcestershire too.

By the time I walked through the, now open, Brian Rose gates and along the front of Gimblett’s Hill on my way to the top of the Trescothick Pavilion, it was clear that Somerset had not declared. The talk on Gimblett’s Hill was of records. “Who was that guy, a long time ago, who scored a lot of runs here?” I was asked. “Graham Hick?” I suggested. “No, much longer ago than that.” That got the cogs of the brain cranking into life, if slowly. “MacClaren, or something,” the suggestion from someone else. “Ah, yes,” my reply as my brain was triggered to shift gear, “Archie.” “That’s him,” the reply. And then my brain shut down again, and so I rather shamefacedly resorted to that memory-shrinker of the modern age, the smartphone, to discover his record score at Taunton, 424, which had been logged in my brain for years, but when it was needed, refused to step forward.  

I reached my seat as Adam Finch bowled the first ball of the day to Banton. A leading edge popped invitingly up but fell safely. In the context of the 342 runs already logged on the scoreboard against Banton’s name, at least they would have been on the scoreboard had it not just switched itself off, the crowd breaking into a round of ironic laughter. Banton though was intent on charging forward, whether trying for 425 I know not. With some deft strike rotation by both he and Lewis Gregory he faced most of the bowling and Somerset built their total at six runs an over. An over from Adam Finch conceded eight runs, four of them from a ferocious pull from Banton which saw the deep midwicket fielder retreating hard towards the boundary near the T20 dugouts and the ball bursting through his hands before crossing the rope. Somerset were clearly intent on finishing whatever job they had set themselves quickly, and the 650 was reached in the same over when Banton miscued a drive which popped up into a gap on the off side where mid-off failed to reach it while the batters crossed for one.  

When Gregory lofted Tom Hinley to long off and the fielder reached low to take the catch and dropped it there were pantomime cheers, for that was the feel of the morning. The next ball, Banton reverse swept for four to more traditional cheers, but the pantomime atmosphere returned when an ironic cheer went up as the scoreboard was re-instated, only to be followed by a pantomime, “Ohhhh” when it promptly switched itself off again. Banton was more serious as he drove Hinley over the boundary in front of the Garner Gates for six to register a century partnership with Gregory. The scoreboard, like someone who has suddenly awoken with a start after sleeping through their alarm, finally sprang into more permanent life in time to witness Banton, on 371, attempt to cut Hinley only to be caught behind by Gareth Roderick. It had been a harum-scarum assault on the bowling in pursuit of quick runs and and the end was perhaps inevitable. Archie McClaren’s 424 was still 53 runs and 130 years away. Gregory’s contribution to the partnership was 35 runs from 43 balls and the partnership realised 109 runs from 89 balls.

Before Banton had gone far towards the Caddick Pavilion, Gregory was following him, Somerset having declared, leaving Worcestershire 516 runs in arrears. As they contemplated that, they found time to applaud Banton off the field. The third day crowd of, by my count, over a thousand, was on its feet and cheered and applauded Banton all the way back to the Caddick Pavilion. Making the highest first-class score in Somerset’s history does not happen every day. The previous occasion was 19 years previously when Justin Langer made his 342 at Guildford, and as the record climbs, gaps between occurrences are likely to become longer.

Worcestershire’s early strategy for dealing with a 516-run deficit and nearly two days to bat was to stand firm on a flat pitch, and take no chances. When the players walked off for lunch, they were 58 for 2 after 24 overs, still 458 runs behind. After ten overs they had reached 21 for 1 and Jack Leach had already bowled two overs from the River End. The wicket had come when Overton beat Gareth Roderick’s straight defensive bat as he stood on the crease. The ball struck the pads to a shout of, “Yes!” from the top of the Trescothick Pavilion and Roderick was on his way. Worcestershire 16 for 1. Roderick 6. Deficit 500.

Another ten overs passed before the second wicket fell and only 16 runs more had been added. A full, straight ball from Leach to Jake Libby passed inside a straight bat and again struck the pad. Worcestershire 40 for 2. Jake Libby 16. Deficit 476. More cheers and a comment of, “Looked out.” Ethan Brookes joined Kashif Ali and was a little more positive, striking two of Worcestershire’s four pre-lunch boundaries as the interval approached. They came from a sweep off Leach which crossed the boundary near the Brian Rose Gates, and a reverse sweep off Archie Vaughan, brought on for two overs before lunch from the Trescothick Pavilion End. With five sessions remaining, two wickets before lunch would probably have satisfied Somerset given the lack of assistance from the pitch, and the crowd began the interval with a satisfied chatter.

My lunchtime circumnavigation took me to the gate in front of the Hildreth Stand. By the time I reached it, spectators had begun wandering onto the outfield. No announcement had been made, but after a minute or two of hesitation spectators began to make their entry. It was like old times, probably going back to the 1930s and beyond, when spectators wandering onto the outfield at lunch and tea was a normal part of a day of Championship cricket unless rain prevented it. I soon found myself standing near the stumps at the Trescothick Pavilion End. When I turned to look at the Pavilion it seemed almost close enough to touch, as close as the 1930s had seemed during my childhood in the 1950s when my grandfather regaled me with tales of the deeds of White, Wellard and Luckes who apparently was no stranger to standing up to the stumps for Wellard and his opening bowler partner, Bill Andrews. The Somerset Stand by contrast looked to be in the far distance, an indication of how far towards the Caddick Pavilion boundary the pitch for the match had been set.

The afternoon session was a different affair to Worcestershire’s two and a half runs an over 58 for 2 of the morning. By tea they had reached 191 for 4, having added 133 at nearly four an over. I watched the first few overs from the Trescothick Pavilion Terrace which affords a view from directly over the umpire’s head. Worcestershire’s change of tactic was quickly obvious as 30 runs came in the first five overs, 24 of them in boundaries. Twice in an over, Gregory was driven by Kashif Ali through the covers and square to the Somerset Stand. Twice in an over, Leach was driven by Brookes, once back over his head and once square to the Caddick Pavilion. As far as I could detect there was no sign of help for the bowlers in the pitch and so I returned to my seat as Brookes swept Leach for two to bring up the fifty partnership in 76 balls, 32 of those coming in the 35 balls after lunch. Then, when Brookes slog swept Leach, now bowling from the Trescothick Pavilion End, he was caught by Sean Dickson running in from long leg on the Priory Bridge Road boundary. Brookes showed his irritation with himself with a swift swish of the bat as he departed. Worcestershire 95 for 3. Brookes 35. Deficit 421. “He’ll be popular,” the comment on the stroke from the top of the Trescothick Pavilion, for it had put Worcestershire under considerable pressure.

Nonetheless, Kashif Ali continue to attack, driving Leach square and through the covers to the Somerset Stand off successive balls and glancing Overton to the Trescothick Pavilion to bring up his fifty. But he too paid the price when he drove Leach straight to Overton at mid-off to loud cheers, the Worcestershire top four having all been dispatched back to the Pavilion with Worcestershire still 400 runs behind. Worcestershire 116 for 4. Kashif Ali 51. The crowd were buzzing with expectation now. Somerset were focused and persistent and Worcestershire, in trying to fight back, were wilting.

Adam Hose, on five, was joined by Brett D’Oliveira and played an innings of rare quality while D’Oliveira stood defiant against all comers. Between them they began to push Somerset back. Hose started with a square drive for four off Aldridge, bowling from the River End, to where the Caddick and Ondaatje Pavilions meet, and followed it, in Aldridge’s next over, with another to the same place followed by another, slightly finer, to the Ondaatje boundary. They were but harbingers of what was to follow. Mainly against Leach and Archie Vaughan, Hose seemed to fill the afternoon with an array of cuts, sweeps, paddle sweeps and drives, all along the ground. If an image of that dream of the 1930s were needed, that section of Hose’s innings would have done as well as any. Given the delicacy of most of his strokes, a slog sweep off Vaughan which cleared the rope in front of the Ondaatje Stand was an incongruous interloper from another age. The partnership reached fifty when Hose turned Leach to long leg for a single. It came from 67 balls with Hose contributing 34 and D’Oliveira 14. For the moment, Worcestershire were cruising, and that single took them to 166 for 4. A quick calculation though showed them still 350 runs in arrears with over four sessions remaining.

The air of expectation which had followed the fall of the first four wickets had drifted into one of relaxation with a background of quiet chatter as people awaited the seemingly inevitable. Meanwhile, in the middle, a reverse sweep from Hose off Vaughan crossed the rope in the gap between the Lord Ian Botham and Hildreth Stands. From there, as tea approached, as often happens in partnerships, Hose entered a quiet period and D’Oliveira picked up the scoring. After three overs in which he had faced 14 balls and scored one run he took three fours off Vaughan in two overs with a square cut, an on drive and a neat late cut which ran to the Hildreth Stand. Hose meanwhile pushed Vaughan to point for a single to register his personal fifty from 68 balls. When the players walked off for tea, Worcestershire were 191 for 4, the deficit still 314.

After tea, Worcestershire made steady progress with little sign of risk or help for the bowlers from the wicket. There was some gentle outswing for Davey and Gregory who opened the post-tea bowling, there were no slips and Rew stood up to the seam bowlers as Luckes had done on the same spot 90 years before. D’Oliveira took the lead, neatly angling the bat to steer Josh Davey, bowling from the Trescothick Pavilion End, through point for four. He followed that with three late cuts in Davey’s next two overs for two, four and three, the four the stand-out stroke as it ran fine to the gap between the Hildreth and Lord Ian Botham Stands. “D’Oliveira is playing the late cut very well,” someone observed from the row behind me. Hose too, as he cut and late cut Gregory for two fours. A single from D’Oliveira turned square into the on side off Gregory raised the century partnership from 163 balls and took the score to 216 for 4, precisely 300 behind. D’Oliveira, closing the gap with Hose, and looking as permanent a fixture as the Quantocks, registered his fifty from 93 balls when he turned Gregory behind square for two, doing well to keep the ball down. He then benefitted from those four overthrows when, as he sprinted desperately for the crease, the throw bounced a yard short of Rew and cut away from his hands. Batting was now looking easy and strokes effortless, the ball flowing serenely off the bat.

With the new ball approaching, the boundaries dried up but D’Oliveira and Hose looked totally secure, now scoring largely in singles and sticking firmly to their main objective of occupying of the crease. The new ball was taken at 257 for 4 by Overton for whom there were cheers, Trescothick Pavilion End, and Kasey Aldridge. The new ball brought two slips, the first that had been seen for some time, and a bevy of seagulls parading on the outfield and circling above the stands in line with their normal practice as the close of play approaches. In his first over, Overton struck Hose on the pads and let forth a huge, unrequited appeal. “Best chance in quite a while,” someone said as the home supporters’ hope of a breakthrough died. There was applause for Overton too when Hose sharply and belatedly withdrew his bat from a testing ball. But soon any hint of threat had faded and D’Oliveira turned Aldridge behind square for a single to register the 150 partnership before driving Overton off the back foot through the covers and then firmly through extra cover to the Brian Rose Gates, both for four. Worcestershire were weathering the new ball and a frisson of anxiety could be felt building in the crowd.

It came therefore as a surprise, almost a shock, when with the first ball of the next over, Aldridge bowled a fast yorker which struck Hose full on the foot in front of middle stump to a huge appeal and the fastest turn towards the umpire to make it I could recall. The cheer from the crowd which erupted as the umpire’s finger rose was volcanic and the applause rapturous. The wicket had burst the bubble of anxiety that had started to grow, for Hose and D’Oliveira had resisted and attacked Somerset for a minute over two and a half hours with barely a hint of trouble. Hose received his fair share of applause too as he walked disconsolately off, having all but seen his side to the close which might have given them a ghost of a chance of saving the match on the final day.

The crowd was buzzing again now, and when Adam Finch was beaten first ball by Aldridge there were gasps and a comment of, “How quick was that?” A leg bye brought D’Oliveira on strike where he had to dig out a well-directed yorker before cutting at and missing the final ball of the over. It was an over which had Somerset supporters sitting up in their seats, wide-eyed and further fuelling the buzz which the wicket of Hose had ignited. Now Overton beat Finch to applause and had an appeal for caught behind down the leg side declined before Finch hooked the resulting bouncer to the T20 dug outs for four. But the wicket that Somerset and their supporters wanted did not come, and an over later the day closed with Worcestershire on 280 for 5, 236 behind, with D’Oliveira walking off with 71 to his name from 154 hard-fought balls. It had been an innings worthy of his grandfather whom many in the crowd, including your correspondent, would have seen play on this same ground half a century before. And it might too, with Hose’s innings, have been played in that dream of the 1930s all but another half a century further away.

Close. Worcestershire 154 and 280 for 5. Somerset 670 for 7 dec (T. Banton 371, J.E.K. Rew 151, T.B. Abell 52). Worcestershire trail by 236 runs with five second innings wickets standing.