The Plunket Shield begins

Wellington v Auckland, Basin Reserve, 11-14 November 2024

In common with the County Championship in Britain and the Sheffield Shield in Australia, the Plunket Shield bookends the season in New Zealand, four rounds before the shorter forms take over at the height of summer, four more as the leaves turn from green to brown. The difference between my experience at St Lawrence in April and the Basin Reserve in November was about 15 degrees celsius. It was most pleasant in the RA Vance, at least until mid-afternoon when the southerly turned up. I was there only for the first day of the opener between Wellington and Auckland.

The first thing we noticed was the sightscreens, installed at considerable cost, both financial and in terms of the view of play from the Royal Box. That at the southern end was out of action, replaced by something closely resembling an Imax screen, spread out over the grass bank. The screen at the northern end remained functional, though the white sheets attached to the framework flapped about as if they were washing hung on a line. They had not survived 130kph winds a few days before. It had not been thought worth checking the resilience of the screens in these conditions, presumably on the grounds that in Wellington they occur no more than three times a week. 

In preparation for the forthcoming series against England, Devon Conway, Rachin Ravindra and Tom Blundell all made rare appearances in the Wellington XI. All three might have been with the national white-ball team in Sri Lanka, but it was good to see priority given to their well-being and readiness for test cricket. Tim Robinson and Nathan Smith were on international duty in Asia. 

When I arrived, about 40 minutes in, Auckland were 26 for four. It might have been assumed that this was the consequence of an early-season greentop, but Auckland chose to bat after winning the toss on a pitch that was closer to grapefruit than lime in colour. There was a bit of movement, particularly before lunch, but nothing that approached impropriety for a first-day strip. There was extra bounce too, and that accounted for Cam Fletcher in particular. 

At 66 for seven we were reminded of the corresponding opening fixture seven years ago when Auckland were dismissed for 62, Wellington finishing the first day on 246 without loss. An eighth-wicket partnership of 87 between Jacobs and Ashok set aside the possibility of such a catastrophe for the visitors being repeated.

Bevon-John Jacobs is known as BJ, like Watling of that ilk. In common with the former Black Caps wicketkeeper he is South African by birth and a New Zealander by cricketing upbringing. Jacobs was making his first-class debut here, having appeared a few times in the shorter forms for Canterbury. His 75 came in 100 balls, and 58 came in boundaries, including three sixes, with hitting that was clean and judicious. 

For the 46th over, van Beek switched to the northern end, removed the close catchers, spread the fielders* around the boundary and started to dig them in. I was well into a homily on the subject of how foolish this was, and how nobody striking the ball as well as Jacobs could possibly fall for it when he hit the fourth ball of the over straight to deep mid-wicket. Any actor auditioning for the part of Othello and wanting to brush up on the portrayal of remorse would do well to study the video of Jacobs leaving the field at this point. Nevertheless, his innings gave Auckland a veneer of respectability that looked unlikely when he came in. They finished with 184.

Buoyed by our returning internationals, we anticipated a sizeable first-innings lead. What we got was an advantage of 86, to which the three returning heroes contributed 49 between them. Devon Conway chipped in with 36, but the fact that he was sixth out tells you much about the general progress of the innings. 

Conway batted much as he had in India: not looking in great touch, but scoring runs nevertheless. That is one measure of a good batter, I suppose. Rachin Ravindra was largely responsible for New Zealand’s victory in the first test in India, but lost form as the series went on. Here, he was leg before for seven. He left the field pointedly examining the edge of his bat like Thomas Chippendale handling a particularly fine chair leg, but if he had not played across the line it would have been the middle rather than the exterior that connected with the ball, and the question would not have arisen. It was seven more than he managed in the second innings. 

Blundell got six before getting an inside edge to an outswinger, the geometry of which suggests a player a distance from peak form. Some question his place in the test team after a poor time with the bat in south Asia, but his keeping remains proficient and he deserves the England series in home conditions. At the close of the first day, Wellington were 58 in arrears with four wickets left. 

Logan van Beek, with five for 53, was the main reason for Auckland’s low score, and on the second day became the driver of Wellington’s first-innings lead. Overnight, he was unbeaten on 37 from 32 balls, a fairly standard rate of van Beekian progress. In the morning, he was altogether calmer, requiring a further 126 deliveries to reach his century. He put on123 for the eighth wicket with Peter Younghusband. 

Van Beek is a cricketer who makes things happen, one way or the other. He is, I think, the only cricketer to both score and concede 30 or more in an over across first-class, List A and T20 cricket. He plays international cricket for the Netherlands so is currently unavailable to the New Zealand selectors, who would otherwise have him on their radar. This innings demonstrated a pleasing capacity for circumspection. 

The rest I will gloss over as I was not there, but Basin Reserve regulars who were present would want to do the same, given that Wellington blew their advantage to lose by 54 runs. When Auckland were seven down with the lead just 93, it seemed that the points were in the bag, but it was BJ Jacobs who turned things around with his second 70 of the game, though he had been infected with some of van Beek’s caution, as it took him 50 more deliveries than the first one. A name to watch. 

Even so, 232 should have been attainable, but Blundell’s 63 apart, Conway’s 28 was the highest score of the innings. I watched the end of the game on the YouTube feed. Seconds after Blundell left the field ninth out, the microphone on the solitary camera situated right next to the dressing rooms picked up a loud curse followed by one of summer’s most evocative sounds, that of willow on plaster. 

*It occurs to me that “fielder” has gradually taken the place of “fieldsman” in cricket’s vocabulary without any of the faux outrage that surrounds the emergence of “batter”. I have “batter” in my style guide partly because I write about women’s and men’s cricket and like to use the same language about both, but mostly because it annoys disproportionately precisely those who most deserve to be annoyed. I would take their protests more seriously if I had ever heard anybody object to the gender-neutral “bowler”, which I have not, even once, in six decades.