Somerset v Surrey, 55 overs, Lord’s 25 July 1981
Derbyshire v Northamptonshire, 60 overs, 5 September 1981
Nineteen-eighty-one.
One of those special cricketing years, the mention of which bursts a dam of memories, like 1947 did for John Arlott, and 2005 and 2019 do for many in England. Willis coming down the hill at Headingley like the wrath of God, Botham like God himself, at Edgbaston, Old Trafford and in and out of the confectionary stall at Headingley.
It was a very good year for me too. I watched no cricket until June, laudably focusing on my history finals at Bristol University, Henry Tudor rather than Henry Blofeld taking my attention. I more than made up for it thereafter. Looking through the scorecards in Wisden, I am surprised by how much cricket I watched that summer, possibly more than any before or since, except those years early this century when CricInfo paid me to watch here in New Zealand. Full weeks at Maidstone, Canterbury and Folkestone, Championship games at Lord’s and the Oval (a day return to London from Herne Bay with a student railcard cost less than two pounds in 1981), first visits to Bath and Cheltenham, an ODI at Lord’s and a day at the Oval test all part of my schedule.
It would take too long to give a full account of that summer; 1981 would be a good choice for a day-by-day reconstruction like that for 1967 that I did a few years ago. One day, when I have more time. For now, I’ll stick to the brief of the Lord’s finals, for which this was also a memorable year, one featuring an individual performance of brilliance, and the other providing the closest finish yet.
My academic exile meant that I saw none of the group games in the 55-over competition. Instead, I caught up with the competition in unusual circumstances at the quarter-final stage.
Kent were having a better season than they’d had in 1980 (it would have been difficult to have had worse) and had won their group, earning a home quarter final, but there was so much rain at Canterbury that the game did a moonlight flit to the Oval before the third of the three days were set aside for knockout games in those days. Kent won, thanks to Chris Tavaré’s 76 and a good all-round bowling performance led by John Shepherd’s three for 24. But Warwickshire probably still haven’t worked out how they lost, from 133 for two chasing 193. I have written about this game before. It was the day I made the acquaintance of Allen Hunt, with whom I was to spend many happy times watching cricket up to the time I left the UK 16 years later. Allen remains one of the small number of readers I keep in mind when I write these pieces, even though he has been dead these 20 years.
The semi-final draw sent Kent back on the road to the hell that was Taunton. Batting first, their 154 was a huge improvement on the 60 of two years before, but as difficult to defend as an A-level algorithm, despite Richards and Botham being dispatched for two each. It was a day when cussed determination was the premium quality, and it was cricket’s arch contrarian Peter Roebuck who took Somerset on the slow-road home with 51 not out spread over 38 overs.
I wasn’t at the County Ground that day because I was receiving my degree from the Chancellor of Bristol University, Dorothy Hodgkin, Nobel Prize winner, feminist, disarmament advocate, and the only Labour supporter whose portrait Mrs Thatcher requested be displayed at No 10 Downing Street. Readings from Hodgkin’s letters are available on BBC Sounds, and make a fascinating listen.
Somerset took top billing for the final at Lord’s, their third appearance in four years. This was a little unfair on opponents Surrey, for whom it was three in three, but they had all been losses, so they were that actor who is in everything, but whose name you can’t quite remember. I know what I wanted when I took my seat at the Nursery End: another Lord’s century from Viv Richards. But would Surrey make enough batting first for that to be able to happen? It seemed unlikely when Surrey had made only 15 from their first 18 overs, and lost two wickets in the process.
That they got as far as 194 was largely due to their captain. Unusually for the era, RDV Knight played for three counties, starting with Surrey, moving in turn to Gloucestershire and Sussex before returning to the Oval as skipper in 1978. Knight was an establishment figure, later becoming first secretary, then president of MCC. But he received no selectorial favour from this; Knight was one of the better players of the era not to receive a test cap. His judicious 92 here gave Surrey what little chance they had. Second-highest scorer was Monte Lynch with 22.
The three finals in which Richards scored hundreds have his name eternally associated with them, but they might more appropriately be known as Garner’s matches. His combined analysis over these three games was 32.3–8–81–16. Garner’s record for Somerset in first-class cricket was good, though not as destructive as Malcolm Marshall was for Hampshire or as consistent as Courtney Walsh at Gloucestershire. But like Richards, he rose to a Lord’s occasion like an actor on a West End first night, finding an extra gear of pace without compromising the laser-guided accuracy, and all delivered from that acrophobic angle.
Garner was largely responsible for Surrey’s slow start, and, as on the two occasions in 1979, returned at the end of the innings to seek and extinguish anything with the slightest scent of hope about it.
Pete “Dasher” Denning was a fine county cricketer, and it is no disrespect to him that of the crowd at Lord’s that afternoon, all but those who were closely related to him were pleased to see him bowled by Sylvester Clarke for a duck, for that meant the early entry of Viv.
Just as he had in the 1979 60-over final, Richards began with exaggerated care, as if the wellbeing of everybody from Porlock to Frome was dependent on his staying at the crease, which, in a way, it was. Gradually, the shots unrolled, helped by left-armer David Thomas’s strange belief that Richards would be vulnerable to the short ball on leg stump, a misapprehension that led some in the Mound Stand to regret that they had left their tin hats at home. As ever, it was magnificent. Richards’ Lord’s final centuries will ever remain among my best cricket memories.
He had perfect support from Peter Roebuck, which, as we now know, would not always be the case. Roebuck fed Richards the strike like Ernie Wise setting up Eric Morecambe’s punchlines. He contributed just 22 to their third-wicket partnership of 105. He was followed by Ian Botham, greeted with acclaim at the end of a week that began with the miracle of Headingley. The rest was showing off, and very enjoyable it was. Somerset won by seven wickets with more than ten overs to spare.
The first round of the 60-over knockout competition earlier in July had Yorkshire coming to Canterbury for the only tie that pitted two first-class counties against each other. By this time, the poisoned chalice of the Yorkshire captaincy had passed to Chris Old, who put Kent in upon winning the toss.
Martyn Moxon went early, caught behind off Kevin Jarvis. Bill Athey joined Boycott, reuniting the partnership that had put Kent out of the previous year’s competition with a stand of 202 at Headingley. They seemed to be heading the same way here as they added 72 off 22 overs. As so often, it was Derek Underwood who restored order, the Metternich of his time, restoring obedience in the provinces through ruthless control. He bowled 12 overs straight through for just ten (10) runs. The scorecard says that he took no wickets, but does not count those he dismissed at the other end.
Here, Chris Cowdrey was the beneficiary, as the Yorkshire batsmen tried to take off him the runs they lost by focusing on staying in against Underwood. Cowdrey kept his nerve, maintained good control and was rewarded with four for 41, including Boycott and Athey. A rapid partnership in the last ten overs between Hampshire and Bairstow took Yorkshire to 222 for six, a total that would win considerably more such games then than it would now.
The chase started badly for Kent with the loss of Woolmer and Johnson for single figures. Both fell lbw to Old, who was among the best of his time in probing weakness with accuracy and movement off the pitch. Nevertheless, it is no surprise to find that Ray “Trigger” Julian was officiating.
This was the summer of the two Tavarés. For England, the gritty professional Tavaré CJ, holding back the Australian attack at Old Trafford while scoring at a rate that caused the scoreboard to rust. For Kent, the dashing amateur CJ Tavaré, dominating county attacks and cover driving like Hammond reborn. Yorkshire did not mistake one for the other as so many were prone to do; a couple of months earlier he had taken them for 97 off 16 overs in a Sunday League game at Huddersfield. This was one of three centuries (plus a 99 not on a Sunday) that I saw him make that year. All of them started calm and became destructive, like the Beaufort Scale expressed through the medium of cricket. Never mind the slowcoach stereotype, Chris Tavaré was a very fine batsman, and this was his best year. He is No 3 (and captain) in my XI of Kent favourites. On the day in question he was supported by Mark Benson, who had just established himself as a first-team regular, in a third-wicket stand of 142 that secured the game.
Nottinghamshire came to St Lawrence for the second round. They were champions that year, playing on home pitches that bore the hue of the Lincoln Green of the men of Sherwood. The game was scheduled for the day after the miracle of Headingley. Graham Dilley returned from there to Canterbury; most of the England team, including Botham and Willis, played for their counties that day, something that would be greeted with incredulity now (though on the day that I write Joe Root has turned out for Yorkshire the day after playing for England, but may not have been able to name all of his young teammates).
It was cold, wet and dark. The start was delayed until 2pm and it was no surprise when Clive Rice put Kent in, though he quickly sent Woolmer and Tavaré back to the dressing room. Rice and Hadlee were the hot act that summer, and for a few to come. Here they finished with five for 35 between them. Batting was a struggle, the 58-run partnership for the third wicket between Johnson and Benson by far the biggest of the innings. Another weather delay with ten overs left did not help. The innings finished three overs short of the 60 for 154. Nottinghamshire knocked off 21 of these in eight overs before play finally ended at 8 25pm.
Peter Marson, reporting for The Times, describes the crowd for the second day as a “paltry few”. We may have been few, sir, but we were far from paltry. We were in the unusual position of hoping for weather as grim as that of the day before, so that batting would be as challenging. I don’t remember any great shots—there weren’t any—but have clear recall of extraordinary tension of that day. It went well for Kent for first 90 minutes or so. Kevin Jarvis removed both openers, then Graham Dilley took the vital wickets of Randall and Rice. Chris Cowdrey weighed in with those of Birch and Hassan to leave Nottinghamshire with 76 to get, four wickets standing and most of Derek Underwood’s overs to come.
Richard Hadlee and Bruce French were in. Hadlee took 105 wickets in the Championship that year was well on the way to being recognised as one of the great quartet of all-rounders of that era. He is usually thought of as a bit of a swashbuckler, but this innings was the epitome of judgement and prudence, matched by the 21-year-old wicketkeeper. Underwood conceded only 12—making a total of 22 runs off 24 overs across the two games—but unlike the Yorkshire batsmen, these two knew that they had the overs left to get the runs off other bowlers without too much risk. They worked away at it, as French would at a sheer mountainside as he climbs it. For an hour we thought that he would fall with the next step, but he never did. They won with three-and-a-half overs to spare. It was a terrific game of cricket, as low-scoring matches can be.
Faced with a similar total in the quarter-final, Nottinghamshire fell short against their neighbours, Derbyshire, who beat Essex in the semi-final by losing fewer wickets in a tie. Their opponents at Lord’s were Northamptonshire, like Surrey back for a third final in three years. Now that counties change their line-ups radically from year-to-year it seems extraordinary that Neil Mallender coming in for the retired Jim Watts was the only change from the XI that had been at Lord’s in both the two previous years.
A couple of names in the Derbyshire team surprise. There is David Steele, now finishing a three-year spell at Derby before returning to Northampton. And the captain, Barry Wood, whose seventh September Lord’s final this was. As I’ve written before, in a later era Wood would have played a hundred-plus ODIs rather than the 13 on his record.
It was always pleasing when one of county cricket’s supporting cast moved to the front of the stage at Lord’s. Colin Tunnicliffe was as archetypal an English seamer as could be. He approached the bowling crease with an unhurried gait that said the season is long and energy must be conserved. He put it there and thereabouts, using the novelty that being a left-armer offered, and was grateful for as much help the pitch offered. When he bowled the second over of the match it would have been the biggest moment of his career. It did not go well, at first. Geoff Cook and Wayne Larkins were aggressive, more so than was usual for openers then, but it was a clear, warm, blue-skyed morning free of the customary Lord’s September new-ball wobble. Tunnicliffe went for 21 in three overs and was taken off, something of a humiliation in those times; opening bowlers would invariably bowl half their allocation at the start of the innings, then come back with the rest at the end.
They had put on 99 for the first wicket when Larkins was caught at deep square leg. Cook went on to make a century. The selectors in those pre-digital days when statistics were collected slowly and rarely, placed undue emphasis on single performances in late season, particularly the final test and the 60-over final. Cook’s 111 earned him a place in the touring party to India and Sri Lanka, while Paul Parker’s test debut duck, for which I had been present at the Oval the previous Saturday, meant that he was omitted. Larkins had also played in the test, making a respectable 34 and 24. Presumably, had he, not Cook, got the hundred here, he would have been on the plane instead.
Perhaps the most important piece of action that day came when Allan Lamb set off for an unwise single to cover. Geoff Miller’s throw beat Lamb’s desperate return to the crease and he was gone for nine. Lamb, now in the last year of his qualification to pay for England, had made 78 and 72 in his earlier appearances in Lord’s finals, so this was a big blow.
Williams was spectacularly caught by Alan Hill at long on, in front of us at the Nursery End, but Northamptonshire still reached 200 with seven wickets standing and eight overs to go. Even with seven or eight fielders on the boundary, it seemed that 250 would be the least that Derbyshire could restrict them to.
That the final total was only 235 for nine was down to two things. The first was terrific fielding. After Hill’s catch, Barry Wood ran out first Peter Willey, with a direct from square on, then Jim Yardley. The second was Tunnicliffe, who conceded only 21 from his remaining nine overs, the same as had gone from his first three. He ended Cook’s innings leg-before, then frustrated all remaining batsmen with bowling that was accurate, canny and a triumph of resilience.
You can date old footage that features Peter Willey by the angle at which he is facing in his batting stance. It shifted a few degrees each year, and by the time he finished it was tempting to shout “he’s behind you” as the bowler approached.
Derbyshire started well. Hill was part of an opening stand of 41 before he was bowled by Mallender. Peter Kirsten now joined John Wright.
Between them, Kirsten and Wright played for Derbyshire for 17 years. They were typical of the overseas players of that era; they attached themselves to a county and stayed with it, Wright for long enough to qualify for a benefit (though he had a season for Kent Seconds before going north). The quality of English domestic cricket improved as a result, and put it on a more level footing.
Wright and Kirsten put on 123 for the second wicket, but at a speed that left no horses frightened. Both were leg-before to Mallender in the 48th over (Trigger Julian was not present; Ken Palmer was the umpire). This left Derbyshire needing 71 from 12. Six an over was a much taller order then than now—fielding circles started for the 55-over competition this year, but did not apply to this competition, so there were routinely seven on the boundary in the later stages of the innings.
Wood and Kim Barnett were both going well until the captain was bowled, quickly followed by David Steele, for a duck heaving across the line. Barnett put on 23 for the sixth wicket Geoff Miller, when he was run out, having had to divert across the pitch to avoid crashing into his partner.
Two overs were left, with 19 still needed and Sarfraz Nawaz to bowl the 59th, a situation that made the fielding side strong favourites. If the tension for we neutrals was high, for supporters of the two teams it was becoming a medical event. The new batsman was Tunnicliffe, whose day was to continue to get better.
Twice in the next over he found the boundary, both with assured shots, one to square cover, the other straight. That left seven needed for a clear win, but at the start of the over Derbyshire had lost six wickets compared to Northamptonshire’s nine, so would win in the event of a tie. It was also very dark, which in this situation could work against the fielders as much as the batsmen. Jim Griffiths, another English seamer out of central casting, was the bowler.
With most fielders on or near the boundary, the strategy was to get them in ones and twos. Miller drove the first ball into the space between long on and deep mid-wicket for two. The next was a single to third man. Griffiths got away with a full toss from the third, hit back to him by Tunnicliffe off a leading edge. An edge to third man brought another single. A squirt to deep square leg from the fifth left one needed for the tie.
The instruction from Miller to Tunnicliffe was not to get bowled. He complied, the running off the pad into the legside. Lamb picked it up and a footrace between him and Miller began. I doubt that Miller, who was in the crease as Griffiths released the ball, ever moved faster. His dive secured the trophy for Derbyshire.
Cook got the man-of-the-match medal from Viv Richards. I thought that Tunnicliffe should have had it. He was largely responsible for reining in the closing stages of the Northamptonshire innings and those two boundaries off Sarfraz set up the win. A few months ago Tunnicliffe, Hill and Miller did a You Tube watchalong on the highlights of the game. The production is a bit rustic, but it’s well worth a look. The link is below.
So Derbyshire won by fewer wickets lost in a tied game. That’s the proper way of deciding a tied one-day game, and everybody here in New Zealand agrees.
Watch the highlights of the 60-over final with Geoff Miller, Alan Hill and Colin Tunnicliffe
Highlights of Viv Richards’ century in the 55-over final.
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