I am back in the old country for the end of the season, a
little earlier than planned following the peaceful death of my father, who saw
Bradman play before the Second World War. In the circumstances I was not able
to make it to the first three days of this Championship game, which were
severely disrupted by the rain, though not enough to keep Kent away from the
precipice of defeat, 65 short of an innings defeat with four down.
A Saturday drive around rural east Kent—which looked quite
enchanting, so green—inevitably led us to the St Lawrence to give my Waikato
Correspondent her first sight of the great ground where I spent so many happy salad
days. There had been a lot of rain, so I expected the game to have been called
off, or if there had been play, for Kent to have capitulated. The ground was
almost deserted as we drove in, but the umpires were inspecting and play would
begin at 3.30.
There was plenty on it; Essex needed to win to stay in the
promotion race. My Life in Cricket
Scorecards was well represented; my Blean correspondent arrived as play
began, thus allowing my Waikato correspondent a taste of the badinage that has
been emptying the seats around us since the early seventies.
We were in the Underwood and Knott Stand; new name, familiar
location. I have watched more cricket from this place than any other; not for
some years now, but formative experiences permeate your DNA. So when Reece
Topley hit Sam Northeast’s pads I gave it out ahead of the umpire. I got all
subsequent decisions right too. The angle of viewing—over widish long
on—precludes informed judgement based on the visual evidence available, so it
must be the accumulated knowledge derived from hundreds of hours of sitting
here and seeing what is out and what is not. Still got it.
Incidentally, Reece Topley is the nephew of Peter Topley,
one of Kent’s least distinguished players of the past half century.
Pig farmer Geraint Jones hit three boundaries before going
the same way as Northeast, so it was up to Darren Stevens to save Kent’s bacon.
The following hour explained why Stevens is so popular with the Kent faithful. He
attacked whenever there was the slightest opportunity, which was important as
it put Kent ahead with little time available for Essex to bat again. His half
century took 67 deliveries. When Stevens holed out, caught by former Wellington
player Owais Shah, the job was done.
The bowler was none other than Monty Panesar, the most
unlikely pantomime villain English cricket history, Julie Andrews cast as Cruella
de Vil. My Waikato correspondent identified Panesar having last seen him in the
Dunedin Test in March. I had not been aware that he was on loan to Essex.
So a satisfying glimpse of Championship cricket at St
Lawrence, the first I have had since leaving for New Zealand in 1997. I have
seen one-day and university matches here, and a Championship game at the Mote
in Maidstone since, but nothing in my favourite competition. It was good to see
a real contest and to find that Kent cricket is still a vertebrate creature.
