County Championship 2026. Sussex v Somerset. August 27^th, 28^th, 29^th and 30^th. Taunton.

Sussex. DP Hughes, T.J. Haines, T.G.R. Clark, C.J. Tear, J.M. Coles, J.A. Simpson (w), J.D.M. Evison J.J. Carson, H.T. Crocombe, S.F. Hunt, J.D. Unadkat.  

Somerset. J.F. Thomas, T.A. Lammonby, A.M. Vaughan, H.M. Nicholls, T.B. Abell, J.E.K. Rew (w), C. Overton, L. Gregory (c), J. Shaw, M. Pretorius, M.J. Leach, A.R.J. Ogborne, J.G. Hermann,

Overnight. Somerset 202. Sussex 77 for 2.

Third day – No play today

It was one of those days where the weather brings frustration, and a cricket ground is a doleful sight. Rain began to fall two hours before I was due to leave my hotel and by the time I was due to leave had been falling steadily for an hour. The cloud was thick and relentless in its passage as a powerful wind brought a seemingly endless stream of rain from the west. A simple decision on the face of it, sit tight and hope for it to stop. But buses come when they want to, not when you need them to and they do not offer a door-to-door service. There was also, given the paucity of vegetarian food at Championship matches by 2026, the question, if you are away from home, of buying some food for the day before you set out. So, an hour and a half between the decision to set out and reaching the ground. Such is the consideration of the away supporter on days such as this. And you cannot settle to do much else while you wait because you don’t know when the call might come.

The umpires have different considerations. When will the conditions be suitable and safe for play, and how long will it take for the ground staff to clear the covers, rope the outfield prepare the creases and so on? When they know and announce a start time it is unlikely to be an hour and a half away. Oh, how the supporter trying to judge when, or if, to leave for the ground would like to know what the umpires are thinking before they are certain, what their best guess might be. Oh, that the British weather were that predictable. And how the umpires would be criticised if they announced a guess and it turned out to be wrong. And so, the supporter has to make their own guess.

Staying ten miles west of the ground, from where the weather was hurrying towards Hove, at least gave me a preview of the Hove weather. The sun came out, the clouds thinned and opened up, and the paths and roads quickly dried out. The scene was set. The sun was shining. There was a drying wind. Time to go. I gathered my things together, walked as fast as I could to the shop with a ‘Food to go’ counter. How much to buy? How long before the forecast rain came in again? Or would it come in? Forecasts are forecasts not certainties, and weather has a mind of its own. I took a chance, bought enough food for the day and reached the bus stop three minutes before the bus. I found a seat upstairs with a clear view of the sea for most of the journey. I checked my phone. No start scheduled at Edgbaston. Warwickshire and Nottinghamshire, Somerset’s two main competitors for the 2026 Championship were in a similar predicament to Somerset. Rain. The race for the championship was close and none of the main runners were moving. On the bus, I checked the Somerset match again. A decision had been made. Play to start at 3.20. I had anticipated correctly. I, and Somerset’s day, were on a roll.

There were no hold ups on the road, and the bus made good progress. But not as good as the next band of cloud. That caught the bus about three-quarters of the way to the ground. When I got off, the sky had filled in, and I felt a spot of rain on my head. But only one. I scurried up the road to the gate. There was no queue despite Sussex’s ‘free entry’ day, although you had to obtain a ticket. Mine was on my phone. Through the gate in an instant I rushed along the back of the Pavilion towards the stairs that led to the upper level at the far end. I saw one solitary person coming the other way. Then, halfway along the Pavilion, the heavens emptied. I climbed to the top of the Pavilion and looked along the upper level. It was the main covered seating in the ground. There was no one there. There were a few in the lower level as I passed on the way up. I look around the ground. It was deserted apart from seven or eight people huddled along the top row of the Sharks Stand. As I looked out, the rain was driving hard across the ground in great waves clearly visible from my seat.

Within minutes the rain had stopped again, and two more people appeared at the top of the Pavilion. Now, the umpires appeared and walked to the middle to inspect conditions and consult with the ground staff and their rain radar. Play would start at 3.45 and the covers were coming off. Not all of them, one was left over the pitch and adjoining pitches as a precaution. I checked my phone. No start yet at Edgbaston. The heart started to pump. Somerset had begun turning this match by the end of the second day. There might still be time if only play could start. I set off on a circumnavigation, my only device to try to improve Somerset’s prospects. We all have one. And circumnavigating the ground, anticlockwise, is mine. I hurry on. Somerset need to play and there was no harm in trying to influence the weather.

The weather, at least the Sussex weather, was not susceptible to the attentions of my Somerset circumnavigation. Three quarters of the way around the ground, as I passed behind the Cromwell Road End deckchairs, a tractor started to tow one of the covers back to the middle. It was raining again and I scurried back to the shelter of the top of the Pavilion. I sat down again, ate my belated lunch and watched rain driving across the ground. Not for long, but a lot of it. All the mopping up work brought to nought. The rain stopped, just about. Another look by the umpires and then more rain, light rain, but rain, and when it stopped it hung in the air. Hope began to drain away.

A look around showed the sky had filled in again. Nearly seven decades of watching cricket means hardened cricket watchers develop their own rain radar. Mine told me that was the end of hope for the day. As I left the ground another Somerset supporter, also leaving, said, “Warwickshire v Notts are done for the day. No play. Us too by the look of it.” I knew in my bones he was right. But at least Somerset’s two main competitors for the Championship were in the same boat. I decided to walk to the sea front, about ten minutes away. The wind there was ferocious and the sea was running as if auditioning for a disaster film. The wind blew along the coast from West to East so hard that as I picked my right foot up to cross the road it blew into my left ankle. I tensioned it before lifting it again. The power of the sea was a sight to behold, but not one to approach too close. Having seen enough and felt rain on my face, I walked back towards the bus stop. I checked the Hove scorecard on my phone before getting on. No play today.

Close. Somerset 202 and 167 for 2. Sussex 250. Somerset lead by 119 runs with eight second innings wickets standing.