#FinalsDay. (Men). #Edgbaston.

Wow. Energising breeze-in to a comfy parking-slot, embarrassingly nearby. Sun’s already vanquished that pesky misty dew. Waltz up to Media Level and… wow. Edgbaston does it again. Zingtasticly resplendent stadium; cavernous and stunning and guarded, rather weirdly but quietly-gloriously, by epic trees – Cricket Ents? – screening the mid-skyline, leaving only the grandest of glassy, concretey poseurs to peek in towards us. Plus *facilities* already revealing themselves. Food; info; screens; people who look like they will help. A magnificent privilege, every year.

9.45. Somerset pace bowlers already working towards some heat on a side wicket. Hawks guys using tapes to measure out run-ups on the match pitch. Big Name Journos assembling close by. Some are delightful, some are – yaknow – ‘cool’. (Never been a networker). As in life, speak to everyone who seems friendly; leave the others alone, eh? Mason Crane, I think – in cap and full trackie – is turning the ball markedly on a strip directly (directly) under my nose. Impressive and mildly exciting. Somerset take on Hamps Hawks in the first game.

The carrot-and-coriander (crypto-Glamorgan) sausage is tasty and welcome but the bun is a disappointing duffer. Loading up on food and coffee *seems* like a good idea – monster of a day ahead. (Actually I know gallons of coffee is going to make my once-svelte belly bloat like hell but forgot to bring a knife and a lemon and asking for them would plainly single me out as the Psycho Health Fascist in the bunch. Which I am not).

Hawks doing that tripartite warm-up thing where you rotate through fielding drills, in groups of four or so. Keeper being worked individually. That practice strip underneath me is well lively. Watching the ball swing some but turn pret-ty square. Doubt the main pitch will be quite as bowler-friendly but we live in hope. Somerset have won the toss and chosen to field. Hampshire, the Official Programme tells me, are playing in their eighth final in twelve years.

When we finally get going, it’s the returning Overton charging in, with some menace, through the post-pyrotechnic mist. Good pace. Vince and Albert look to be seeing it out but Vince utterly mistimes the final ball, dinking it back (as opposed to slapping it back) to the bowler. Overton can’t hold on. Big Chance. Albert takes Davey for four, square, in the next but then the bowler a) nearly bowls him and b) has a decent l.b. shout against. Batters advancing but we have seen little in the way of clean hitting. Albert, frustrated, tries to invent something but can only tamely mis-scoop behind. Gone for 5. Hawks are 8 for 1 after 2.

Make that 8 for 2. Vince is cutting something too close and also edging to the keeper. Overton the bowler. Weatherley comes in under early pressure. He slog-sweeps, boldly, just evading the fielder at deep square. Six runs. Bright sunshine and the ground about 35% full. Tom Prest has yet to face as Weatherley sweetly clumps Davey for another six, then drives him straight for four. Brilliant start from the batsman, given the moment he was pitched into. When Prest finally gets a look, it’s brief. Davey delivers a peach, full and doing a little off the surface: batter gone for nought. Hampshire in some grief at 26 for 3 as Overton races in again, for the 5th.

Weatherly goes to 23 off 12, steering to the boundary. Ground filling rapidly. Dawson has joined us.

There is a prolonged ‘discussion’ out there as wicketkeeper Banton takes a skier, running twenty yards. Dawson – experienced and streetwise – is vigorously *having words* and we are guessing it may be about fielders moving… but unclear. After an age, the batsman is given not out and a free hit signalled. (No audio in the press box so you may be ahead of me, on this)*. Van der Merwe is bowling from the City End – tidily enough, three from the over. 49 for 3 now, after 7.

*Update. Marchant de Lange apparently guilty of not moving back into the ring. Oof. The big man will be off somebody’s Christmas card list.

Dawson flips an ugly, wristy leading edge towards Gregory but the Hampshire skipper can’t quite get there. Maybe he should have done… but doesn’t matter. Green’s slower-ball yorker soon defeats the fella – bowling him classically ‘all ends up’. Given the influence Liam Dawson tends to have, on proceedings, this feels pivotal. By the time Goldsworthy has wheeled/slung his way through a further over of mid-innings spin, Hawks are beyond 70, but 4-down. Bigger Picture Styleee, we’ve seen enough to hope that today won’t all be about brazenly smashing through the line: the bowlers are in it.

Goldsworthy is. He has McManus – another catch for Banton, semi-juggling. 80 for 5, in the 13th. Marchant de Lange is next in, for the first time, from beneath us. Biggish appeal, but clearly missing. Weatherley persists, joined most recently by Fuller. Mixed over culminates in a high full-toss, merely parried to safety. 84 for 5.

Fuller strikes Goldsworthy through extra, for four: he will need to support his partner. Weatherley gets through to his fifty via a very scratchy single; in truth it may have been a second fairly ordinary piece of fielding by Gregory, who *really might* have run him out. Instead the Hawks’ sole major contributor (so far) has 50 off 38. De Lange, revisited. Bowling 90-plus. No fireworks, however.

Poorish, wide ball from van der Merwe spins even wider but Fuller gets a little on it… and 100 is up. Shocking full-toss is summarily dispatched into the crowd but a calamitous mix-up between the batters yields a soft wicket. That of Fuller, who made 22. 112 for 6, as De Lange comes in for the 18th.

Wood heaves him, slightly toe-ending to deep midwicket, where the fielder, absolutely racing round can only get a hand to it. Four. Next ball is clubbed, downtown. Six. The final delivery is also powered into the crowd. All Fuller, all crucial. 130 for 6. Davey will return – changing ends – for the penultimate over.

Davey again finds something: stonkingly full and straight delivery. Wood’s 18 off 6 has been thrilling but he must leave us. Currie joins Weatherley. Davey does him with the same delivery, second ball. Brilliant stuff. The incoming Crane has one to face. He scuffs and scuttles for two. We are 135 for 8 as De Lange runs in… to try and redeem himself. (Am amazed he gets to bowl this).

First two balls get battered contemptuously, by Weatherley, for six but his genuinely superb contribution ends with a skier to long-on. Innings closes with another run-out, on 152 all out.

Feels competitive, because only De Lange was subjected to a sustained barrage: elsewhere the bowling looked too good or too difficult to hit, without some care. We may, as a result, have a day where scores are lowish but drama is heightened by the relative un-freedom of the batters. Often the guys with the wood can let it flow, violently, through the line, in the knowledge that things will tend work out for them. Not quite like that, here.

The Reply.

Wood opens for the Hawks, with Banton and Smeed in there for Somerset. Just the one from the over. Smeed crunches the first boundary through extra, from Wheal. Notable that good yorkers have, apparently, some value – who knew? 8 for 0 off 2. A touch more cloud?

Prest is in athletically to pouch Banton, in the deep. Goodish hit but not pure enough. Van der Merwe will join Smeed. I pause to note that there are about FIFTY journos in the media centre, today. At the England matches I’ve been attending, there have been 5-8 and I expect that to hold for tomorrow’s game in Worcester. What could the erm, *issue* be, I wonder?

A long umpire’s review, because it was close. It was close but Vince did indeed pick up the low, low scudder and thereby claim the wicket of van der Merwe, for 2. Smeed responds by lifting Currie for four, over mid-off. 28 for 2 after 5.

Short-lived joy for the west-country supporters, as the same batsman swishes across left-armer Wood, a little, to pick out a grateful Vince (again), chest-high. 30 for 3 after the powerplay. Mason Crane.

A run-out! Goldsworthy is out, sprinting into the void. Messy gets marginally worse, as Lammonby plays and misses one which does straighten, and is plumb. 34 for 5 and time for the skipper – Gregory – to man up. More spin, from Dawson.

Great chorus of “OH – RAVI BO-PAA-RAA” from the Hollies. Long day for all of us but surely a killer for many of them? Meanwhile, with Somerset at 48 for 5 at the halfway mark, and the required rate now already just over 10, Abell and Gregory – fine players both – may have to find something special. The relative quiet in the game will not suit them.

Error at the boundary edge gifts a four. More needed. Abell slog-sweeps Dawson, with commitment and no little style, for four more. Singles/twos won’t do this, so they must be thinking two boundaries per over: they have to hit.

Currie is in and backward point is almost in the game, for the cut. Falls a foot short. We have a partnership building but it may lack the necessary dynamism: expect them to launch, of course but is this enough? A six helps… but Gregory falling to Dawson, mistiming, via the pad, doesn’t. Green is here, at 79 for 6, with the bowler’s energy fizzing.

Crane will bowl the 15th, with Somerset needing plenty. Crowd fully involved, now, sun and cloud still local: great scene. Runs but not enough.

Wood from under my left foot. Evidently ‘difficult to get away’. Has figures of 1 for 8 from his 3 overs, so far. 100 is up and Abell’s 50 with it as Currie bowls from the City End. But it’s 50 and “by-ee” as Abell is easily caught in the deep, by Fuller. 105 for 7 after 17, meaning 46 needed from 18 balls.

Wheal beats Overton but there is no nick. Green swings hard and gets enough to beat backward square leg, then guns a loose full-toss over midwicket for six. 35 from 14. Yorkers still featuring. A second, poor full-toss is swung into the Hollies.

Woods has changed ends to bowl the 19th but even he gets no respect. Six. Green. Interesting.

Next ball is swung to the same precinct but mishit. The fielder seems unsure of the trajectory… or something. Down it goes; single scored. Somerset in the game?

YES! Green goes to 35 from 17 by clipping and hoisting over mid-wicket – just. 12 from 8 needed, suddenly.

The heroics – well, Green’s – are over. Shortish one clubbed to long on. Caught with some ease. Overton dribbles one out to make two possible… and gets there. 10 needed from the last. Entirely possible, except Davey is facing – on nought.

Single to midwicket. Wheal goes yorker-length again and only one is possible. Beautiful swing of the bat lifts the third ball up and over and safe. Six. So JUST THREE NEEDED FROM TWO BALLS! Field come in and Davey flicks nonchalantly to leg. Fabulous game, won by Somerset, by two wickets.

Much-needed food. Mascot race. Rest.

SHARKS v SPITFIRES.

The lively Garton, leggy, left-handed, starts with a wide, to leg. Crawley is facing, with Bell-Drummond at t’other end. A second wide is worse – further astray – and not that quick, so nerves, presumably. Six come from that mixed over.

Wiese starts with a full (attempted) leg-cutter but Crawley, charging, hoiks the second away, agriculturally, for our first boundary. Bell-Drummond then guides one to fine-leg for four more, before pulling squarer. 22 for 0 after 2. Brisk start.

Garton finds his range, castling Crawley. (Felt like he was getting too greedy too early). A Plan, no doubt, but he was halfway down the strip for most of his shortish innings. Made 9, from 9. Denly joins Bell-Drummond. Jordan’s direct hit is typically brilliant but to no effect. Tymal Mills – quickish, natural length shortish – will come in from under the media centre. The runs continue to come: 18 from the over. 44 for 1 after just 4. The lovely, wider sunshine is back, flooding. A further change from the City End; Jordan.

He’s going at 84/85 mph, straightish but Bell-Drummond check-cuts one out through cover. Four. Fifty is up, in the over. When Garton returns Denly looks to hoist him classically straight but the bat twists; he finds mid-on and the hands of one of the great fielders in the world game – yup, Chris Jordan. Something of a gift. 53 for 2 after 6.

Sam Billing is in and the youngster Lenham will have a bowl. No major dramas: Kent are going at 8.5 an over. They may be thinking they don’t need to go too big too early. The ‘police’ are chasing ‘burglars’ around the Hollies as Bell-Drummond gets to a beautifully well-judged 50. I put my shades back on – yes, indoors. The carnival is building.

Beer is bowling his second over of leg-spin from in front of us. Getting some turn, in fact. Spitfires get to 82 for 2 at the halfway. Bopara-time, evidently.

The still-influential all-rounder comes at us from the City End. Right arm, medium; mixing it up. Escapes with a full-toss that should have been dispatched… but is belatedly called high… so free hit. Six to square leg. Sharks *really won’t* want Billings to get in alongside his partner – who now has 62.

He doesn’t. Bopara bowls him. 93 for 3, then, as Mills returns, to bowl the 12th. 180 feels possible, and 170 likely.

OOF. Splash of colour and light and the wickets are splayed. Leaning has come and gone – second ball – to the England leftie. Cox joins, Mills bowls a fabulous, searching, quick one and finds an edge: caught behind. Two-in-two and we may need to re-calculate. Except the mighty Stevens, D, is the man in to face the hat-trick ball. (And c’mon, the man’s a legend). He watches the delivery scoot past.

96 for 5 after 12. Still think Sharks will want best part of 80 from the last 8 overs. Bell-Drummond is well in; Stevens is a legend. Let’s see.

100 up after 12.3. Bell-Drummond using Jordan’s pace – caressing. We’re at the stage where the Hollies is erm, a protagonist. Hilarious; daft; noisy; good-humoured. God help the stewards down there.

More soft hands, from Bell-Drummond. Kisses quite deliberately through the keeper. Then Stevens bludgeons over mid-off. Bopara the victim, both times. Five overs remain with Kent Spitfires sitting on 122 for 5. Garton in.

A wide one is thick-edged wide of third man. Four to Stevens, who now has 20. B-D flicks one to 45, high, looping. Could be Lenham misjudges a little. In any case he dives and misses. Four more.

We may all have been wondering if Bell-Drummond would raise his century but the answer is no. He drills Garton straight to Bopara at deep mid-wicket. Gone for an outstanding, skilful 82. Stewart has joined Stevens. Jordan has joined the Slam in the Yorkers Society, with some success. 143 for 6 after 17. (Note it’s 15.45 and the cut-off time is 15.53. Meaningless?)

Stewart can’t hit Mills, which means that Stevens probably must. But just for one. Massive cheer for ‘Ronald McDonald’, to my right… don’t ask.

Spitfires have just spluttered a tad. 150 up but minor under-achievement seems likely. So Stevens scoops cheekily for four. Then smashes but just for two, to deep extra. Jordan’s last ball he does nail. Clean hit through that same extra-cover area. 160 for 6; 6 balls remaining.

Mills finds the edge, first up. Stewart gone for 3, caught by Salt, at the wicket. Qais then runs himself out – not bargaining for Steven’s intransigence. The veteran slams four more over point. We finish with 168 for 8, with Stevens in on 47 from 28.

The reply, from Sussex Sharks.

Denly to Salt and Wright – an experienced threesome. The bowler turns one big but nine runs come from the over. Then a significant change-up as Klaasen comes in; left-arm, quick, but swinging significantly wide. Called. Salt comes at the bowler and cuffs him sharply to leg, for four. Slowish off-cutter does for Salt: edged through to the keeper Billings.

Denly again – a ‘part-timer’ but a bloke who does give it a tweak. Bopara and Wright will be watchful. 26 for 1 after 3. Milnes, who has star quality, will follow.

First ball is clipped neatly enough square, for one. Thick edge then flies over point – safely. Two. Ground almost full; day spectacular, still. As is (I kid you not) the very next ball. Milnes castles Knight with a pearler, to substantial exhilaration.

Stewart is in from the City and hurrying the batsmen. The left-handed Rawlins sees him out, rather. 37 for 2 after 5. Killer back-of-the-hand yorker from Klaasen leaves the same batter on his backside… but in. Good contest again, between bat and ball.

There’s been a minor lull in the stroke-making. The kind that makes batters feel they have to have a go. Rawlins does – fatally – slashing wide and easy out to deep point. By no means an easy catch, mind: excellent agility and great hands from Leaning. 39 for 3, then, as Wiese stomps in: a single added before the fielding side wave farewell to those powerplay restrictions.

But life is cruel, eh, because it’s just too easy for some. Take Darren Stevens. He’s in. He’s taking a wicket. First ball. *Shakes head and makes wtf gestures*. Ridiculous. But also completely predictable.

Qais applies further angst to the Sharks’ camp. Absolute stonker of a leg-spinner takes the edge and shifts Bopara. Billings jubilant to snaffle it – always a big wicket that one. 57 for 5, at this point.

We get to halfway. The run-rate is 10-plus. Ward is in – has 20 – and Garton fresh. Spitfires ahead in the game *but yaknowww*…

The day beginning to slough away its warmth. Garton smashes a way a drag-down, from Qais. His fellow spinner, Leaning, will make the next breakthrough: Ward clumping to the fielder. 89 for 6 after 13.1. A round 80 needed, from 41 balls. Chris Jordan has marched out. Garton drives Leaning beautifully through the covers, to the boundary. Can the two frontline bowlers rise to this?

Qais returns from the City End, with the asking-rate beyond 12. So there must be drama and urgency, or capitulation. Garton flukes an edge behind, for four then extends through to get past long-off, narrowly, for another. Last ball of the over is struck with sweet emphasis into the crowd beyond midwicket. 57 from 30.

Milnes is in to, erm, the national anthem. Of England. Garton – plainly a danger – swishes and times it for six more, over backward square. It can’t last. The Sharks’ quickie is undone by the Spitfires’; caught cutting to backward point. Fabulous, stylishly defiant innings of 41 from 23. Beer joins Jordan. 16 overs done: 2 a ball needed, precisely. 48 from 24. (We do like a bit of symmetry, eh?)

Stewart, from the City. Shadows. Jordan gets all of a short one. Six. Ten from the over.

Klaasen gets biffed back straightish, by Beer. Four. But Jordan can only slash a steepler straight to long-off. Presently (as I think they used to say?) we get to a place where the Sharks need 30 from the last 2 overs. Mills – not known for his batting prowess – is in there alongside Beer. All manner of milling/boozy-related headlines are becoming possible but what will actually happen?

Predictably, Milne is too good for Mills, bowling him with a floaty one. 23 needed, from 7. Young Lenham is greeted by a quicker, fuller one which he keeps out.

Last over feels a formality and is. A short one steered gently round the corner by Lenham is catching practice for Qais and the game belongs to Kent. Klaasen the wicket-taker. We have a Spitfires v Somerset final. The light is already leaving us, my energy is challenged but I’m up for it if you are? Some deeeep breaths – and cakes* – and then we go again.

*Did I mention the hospitality here is world-class? I should. It is, and the staff here have my heartfelt thanks.

THE FINAL – SOMERSET v KENT SPITFIRES.

Somerset have won the toss and opted to field. We have lights – I mean lights that are now earning their living – against a darkening sky. Some of the crowd (I’m guessing 20%*) have left. No changes to either side.

Craig Overton is opening up, from the City End. Crawley will face, with Bell-Drummond partnering. Second ball struck sweetly through mid-wicket, across the cooling carpet, for four. Davey, who bowled outstandingly in the earlier game, is in and also getting some bounce – again almost troubling Bell-Drummonds’ glove.

*Correction. Only about 5 % have left. The buggers were loitering, endlessly around the various bars.

Crawley (who *has something*, yes?) flicks Overton to 45 for four. Could be ver-ry good viewing if he finds his flow. 19 for 0 after 3.

Davey once more. Lights leaning in, now. He tries the yorker but B-D unceremoniously clubs him downtown. Six. Strangely – or maybe not, these days – not middled. Gregory makes another error in the field – his third, at least. Weird: Crawley gets two more. Overton will bowl a third, running towards us.

Crawley pushes calmly straight to go to 22 from 14. Looking decent.

Sixth over. Van der Merwe spears one in sharpish, flattish and Bell-Drummond can only slap it to mid-on. 44 for 1 as Denly joins us. Extraordinarily, he hoists the spinner high, high and way over Abell’s left shoulder, first up. The fielder legs it and measures a brilliant diving catch – a magical, possibly inspirational moment. We have a hat-trick ball, for Sam Billings. He survives it. 46 for 2 after the powerplay.

More spin, from Goldsworthy – a left-armer and off-spinner. 50 up. Five from the over. The left arm spin-theme continues, with van der Merwe. A poor, short delivery is inexplicably drilled by Billings to the man at mid-off: awful and wasteful. He will be furious. Gone for 2. Proper Dusk is with us, at 7.17pm. Leaning has joined Crawley and Goldsworthy maintains the cackhanders’ hold on the innings.

Crawley breaks out with a clump through mid-wicket. Four. No flight whatsoever from Goldsworthy, just a conservative, disciplined firing-in. 62 for 3 after 9.

Van der Merwe, zesty and irritating, bustles in once more. Flat period, for Spitfires. 65 for 3 at halfway implies 150 rather than the 170 they may be looking for. Power-hitting imminent, surely?

Green is bringing some pace from the City and Gregory is drying the ball, now, with a towel. Poor, waist-high delivery is buffed away rather than punished… but free hit ensues. Kent can’t cash in.

When Goldsworthy switches ends and drops one short, Crawley reaches and pulls, unconvincingly. Finds the fielder. He made 41 from 32 but the innings tapered somewhat. Cox is the new man. Another short delivery dies in the pitch, outside off. If the batsman hadn’t committed early to a reverse, you feel it might have been a real gift. Instead – air-shot. Somerset will be loving the lack of fluency, here.

Green goes full and straight, Leaning drives sharply back at him and the bowler can’t unfurl his arms. Half-chance at best.

A much-needed boundary as a top-edgy effort swings up and over to fine leg. Van der Merwe will come in for his fourth… and bowl a loose wide. Low energy effort from the batting side, now, which must mean it feels tricky out there. 3 for 19 from the spell from the canny left-armer. Darkness around.

Goldsworthy will likewise see out his overs. Again it will be air-less and fired-in too short to be charged. The 100 is up, for 4 in that 15th over. (105, in fact, as Goldsworthy tosses back the ball). 140 likely? Over to Davey.

The necessary clutch of Kent boundaries seem almost unthinkable. Davey is mostly pace-off: a slower-ball bouncer – which may have been accidental – draws another error. Leaning can only miscue to Green at mid-wicket. What can Darren Stevens do?

De Lange bowls an off-cutter at his nose. Stevens steps back calmly enough and glides it to fine third man, for a single. Cox swings straight through but mistimes a little: gets enough of it to clear mid-on. Bits and pieces when they need to find some serious boom. It must be tricky, out there. 118 for 5 after 17.

Craig Overton will bowl his final over from underneath us. Cox cuts and Gregory can’t get there – four. First six for an age is neatly taken in the stand beyond long-on. A short-of-a-length ball biffed primary-school style but ver-ry welcome to the Spitfire Posse.

De Lange bowls a notably swift one at Stevens. Comprehensively beaten but it was on sixth stump. But Cox really gathers one in, to clear the mid-wicket boundary with something to spare. The Stevens Myth, however will gather no further tonight – not with the bat, at least – as he is run out by Overton, scampering for an unlikely two. We are at 149 for 6 as Davey sets for the final over.

A further run-out does for Stewart but Cox gets to a gritty and sporadically explosive 50 and beyond, for the Spitfires. They bring the game back to the opposition, as it were, by posting 167 for 7, with Cox not out, off 28. That may well be competitive.

THE SOMERSET REPLY.

Denly. Under-rated, as a bowler? I’ve often thought so. His second ball at Banton turns a mile and the opener is stumped. 1 for 1 after 1. Now Klaasen from under Our Stand. Full and swinging but despite the bawling, significantly down leg. Goldsworthy waits on the next one and cut-glides it away to get off the mark. Later in the over he looks to leg but finds only the leading edge and the ball loops cruelly to point. With Smeed now joined by Abell, Somerset are 3 for 2 after 2.

Denly, from the City End. Abell appears both watchful and fraught as he turns one high and awaaay… narrowly evading the outfielder. Four. Then four again. Smeed – who has barely had a look – gets a gift. Short one. Denly disconsolate as the ball sails into the stand at square leg.

Stewart will bring some pace. Billings’ trainers meanwhile are screaming at the universe and somehow it’s only just getting to me. WE ARE O-RANGE, WE ARE O-RRAAANGE! Five from the over. More firepower from the city as Milnes comes in. Wide one gets hit alright but extra cover can parry and limit the damage. 32 for 2 after 5.

Abell skilfully glides Klaasen down past third man for four. Then cuts over backward point. Then flicks from the hip, fine. Welcome runs. Sprinting between the wickets has been a feature of the day. No more so than when Abell and Smeed burst to two right here, right now. 47 for 2 from the powerplay overs.

Qais Ahmad will bring his extravagant leggies from the City End. (He’s been warming up, comically vigorously, for some time). Smeed can’t exploit the drag-down. Eight, from a mixed over. Next up, Stevens. The de-celerating middle-phase of his run-up is mildly fascinating: can almost hear him saying “steady on, lad. Started too bloody quick!”

Qais draws Abell into a mishit: thick outside edge flies straight to backward point. Lammonby – who failed in the semi – comes in. Abell made 26. More from Stevens as we approach halfway.

The Old Fella’s doing plenty with his hands but not much off the pitch. He’s knuckly, wristy and full of fingers around that metronomic length. 71 for 3 at 10 overs. 97 required.

More from Denly. Sharp turn beats the batsman utterly but the next delivery holds the drama – and the fascination. It’s clubbed away, Cox takes the catch but Bell-Drummond, slipping, is in contact with both with colleague and the boundary. We all look at it seventy times before the fortunate batsman is given not out.

Funny ole world. Cox is palpably angry as he takes an uncontroversial (and he thinks valedictory) catch moments later. Smeed made 43 and The Fates (and the Blokes Arguing About the Laws) can settle again. The skyscrapers of the central city have done that thing where they slip away, as our lights blaze and fore-shorten the bowl before us. Stunning scene.

Denly will bowl his third: run-rate approaching 11. Another genuine leg-spinner beats Lammonby and strikes pad. Given. 89 for 5, after 13. Van der Merwe is the new bat, joining his captain, Gregory, who has 5. Stevens runs in, then stalls, and bowls.

It had to happen! We have our first ridicu-relay-catch of the day. Cox somehow retrieving from somewhere in Flintshire to flip the ball back into play. Gregory the man out, caught Milnes (gobsmacked), bowled Stevens. Probably the most astonishing moment of the whole event. You will see on your ‘socials’.

When van der Merwe booms a hopeless full-toss straight to extra cover Ahmad’s joy is tempered by sheer embarrassment. But this means 97 for 7… and it could be the game.

Overton can play but both Green and himself are newly-in, and they need more than 70 from the remaining 5 overs. And Stevens will be looking to strangle this.

Overton responds with a classical straight hit, for six. Then a freakish four in t’other direction, as he under-edges past Billings’ left knee. Still, as Milnes rejoins, the Spitfires require the small matter of 58 runs from 24 balls. Green is beaten for sheer pace. Possible nail-in-coffin moment as Overton spoons, rather, to long-on. Straight-forward catch. Speed gun not suggesting Milnes going at full tilt but the ball looks to be gathering zip off the deck.

Stewart, for the 18th. Booming chorus of you-know-what… but wonderfully, knowingly, good-naturedly daft. A nineth wicket comes as Green edges almost square. 120 for 9, with de Lange in but hope surely gone, for Somerset? Milnes will bowl the penultimate and seek a final scalp to cap off an often sensational season. Neither batter can lay the proverbial glove on him.

43 required from the 20th over, Stewart to bowl. An anti-climax, of sorts but try telling that to Stevens/Billings/Cox et al. It’s been a fine day with a clear winner: Kent Spitfires. Davey and de Lange will like that they both hit a six in that final over but tight bowling and *relatively* challenging conditions stymied batting onslaughts generally, and undermined confidence and fluency with the wood. Somerset were not alone in struggling to counter that. We saw quality innings but not many – or not many which blew holes in the contests. Perhaps that’s the way it should be?

Discuss.

Highlights Reel, as does the memory. Universe Podcast looks back on a year of cricket – mine, 2019.

A meander through my personal highlights, with particular attention on the games I actually attended. Vaguely chronological but with the inevitable @cricketmanwales-stylee diversions.

So, unreliable memories around both England men and women’s international fixtures, plus KSL and Blast19 stuff. Some thoughts on coaching – on the England men’s batting – and ‘philosophical’ notions around approach and responsibility. Finally, I fall into a realisation that my ‘Day of the Year’ may have been…

well go listen and find out. And please do RT if you find it at all listenable.

 

*Note: plank that I am I started to say something about Sophie Ecclestone but then drifted. What I was going to add was that she is clearly a talent – already our (England’s) go to bowler when Knight needs to make something happen. (Not bad for a 19/20 yr-old). She isn’t a great fielder but one of my abiding memories of a difficult Women’s Ashes for England was that Ecclestone offers something.

#Edgbaston. #FinalsDay.

How, how, how does this keep happening?!?  🤷🏻‍♂️

Another extraordinary day of cricket. ‘Belonging’, ultimately, to Harmer, the Eagle’s skipper, who bowled like a demon in both their matches and also saw them home so dauntlessly with the bat.

But this felt bigger even than that: bigger than the personal joy. The South African offie and his batting partner Bopara did, of course, stretch the dramatic-elastic to its ecstatic breaking-point. They did heave the entertainment to another level – remarkably.

But the nature of this Edgbaston Gig itself had already revealed itself in the scrumptious, autumnal sun. The colour, in every sense. The daft, boozy boisterousness. The singalongtastic vibe. More importantly perhaps, the edgy, competitive cricket.

Peter Moore’s Outlaws had cataclysmically imploded. (That presser was painful viewing, people). Falcons, too, had faltered cruelly. The pitch drew some flak but still, somehow, in those wonderful external playing conditions, before that shiny-happy crowd, this event was simply never going to fail. Because Finals Day. Because Edgbaston. There really was something inevitably sensational about all this.

So Harmer’s Day, for sure. But also both another general triumph, for Warwickshire County Cricket Club and something of a gauntlet thrown down to events *in the pipeline*. 

Here’s how the day felt, from 9 a.m to 10 p.m. Live.

 

Outlaws v Rapids.

Crazy-sunny: ridiculously, as per last year, when the Brum skyline looked splendidly leafy and shiny and the bowl in front of us radiated searingly cosmic light straight  back up at us. Wow. What a view. Thankyou, Edgbaston.

I’m back then and so is the great celestial orb-thing. And maan what a difference it makes.

The day is warm, by 9.30, but it is also set up. Fifty feet below me, Outlaws and Rapids are going through their early moves; nice collect/cross over/throw drill to my left, overseen by the fella Moores and some running and squatting over to my right, with Moeen’s Posse. Stadium stirring quietly but ubiquitous bouncy pop already blaring. Great scene.

10.30. Notts have won the toss and put Rapids in to bat. In other tactical news, I am alternating peppermint tea with coffees: this is a really long day.  👊🏻

Luke Wood – left-arm over, quickish – starts with a full-toss, to Rutherford, which he blocks for nought. The sun really does illuminate the pitch: strip looks brownish and dry. Wood, straining for pace, bowls a leg-side wide. Wessels drives nicely to cover for three and Rapids make a solid start – 9 off the over.

Carter will bowl his right arm off-spin from the Pavilion End. Rutherford miscues him over Hales but the former England man retreats to make the catch high above his head. 10 for 1. Enter Moeen.

Ali drives his second ball comprehensively, majestically into the stand over long-on… then re-plays the shot for a further six, just clearing the rope this time. As if we didn’t love him enough!

Wessels drives Wood fabulously through the covers for four more, before patting away an angry beamer. No ball and Free Hit. We are 32 for 1 after 3. Ground 80% full already.

Gurney comes in for Carter: starts with a poor wide. Ali goes to 20 off 7 by dispatching the left arm quick to the spot which will surely be re-named Moeen’s Corner immediately after the game. (Long-on, by the Sky Pod).

Ah. Cancel or delay that naming ceremony. Carter, returning having switched ends, bowls the Rapids skipper, swishing hard across the line. 40 for 2 and Parnell has joined Wessels. Playing conditions are an absolute dream.

Wood again. Poorish full-toss pushed easily through mid-off. Four. Another beamer defended, power-play done and Rapids are 54 for 2. Early feel is that somebody may go very big very quickly on this pitch.

Lots of changes from Christian. Patel tries a wheel, then Mullaney. Anything to break things up, or prevent The Emergence of The Groove. Mullaney’s canny medium-pace does okay.

Wessels – very open in his stance, bit ungainly – sweeps Patel to break out. Striking flatter-than-flat, sharpish ‘spin’ from Our Samit. 69 for 2, after 9.

Mullaney will go again. Parnell may not really connect but does lift him for six over long-off. Bowler has his revenge, mind, as Parnell *doesn’t quite get there*. Sliced, and Christian is watchful in retreat. Rapids are 76 for 3 at the halfway mark.

Good few minutes for the Outlaws skipper, as he has Cox caught behind off an under-edge, in his first over. Ground pret-ty much full now and the colour and the noise brewing nicely.

Patel switches ends. D’Oliveira drives him nicely and slaps him to leg – but not for boundaries, importantly. 88 for 4 after 12; Wessels has 34.

Mullaney bowls him, leg stump. Could be the pressure to reach the rope does the batsman; there has a been an absence of fours and sixes – or the sense that Rapids need more – over the last few overs. A kind of quiet pressure.

Carter benefits too. D’Oliveira tries to hoist him to Cow but is bowled by a ball that may have only marginally turned. Good time for the Outlaws as the score has fallen away to 92 for 6: Barnard and Whitely are both new to the crease.

Gurney, from the Birmingham End. Then a stunning moment, as Joe Clarke runs out Barnard with a brilliant, timely throw from point. (Timely in the sense that it already felt like a possible game-changer, or winner). Really high quality piece of fielding, bringing Mitchell in a good deal earlier than Rapids might have liked. 108 for 7 after 16, Whiteley having boomed a defiant six.

The same batsman gives Mullaney similar treatment, next over. Six, four, six, one. Nice, clean striking. It’s felt like a 180-odd pitch from early on: 160 now seems *possible.* Gurney comes in to bowl the 18th at 125 for 7.

Wood misfields at point – the first error I can remember – but then nearly runs out Whiteley. Gurney is taking the pace off, to Mitchell. Shocker of a wide, at Whiteley – both a beamer and genuinely wide. 132 at the end of the over.

Wood. Running in, going quickish. Patel, meanwhile, rubber-stamps his cult status with the Hollies, by hoofing back a beachball to beery approval. Good over; concedes just the five runs.

Gurney, predictably, will take the last. Shocker: full-toss down leg. Then beats the swing, from Whiteley. Then an awful wide, to off. Then Whiteley is caught at deep square.

Enter Brown. Mitchell is facing: he smashes Gurney for six before falling, caught at deep cover.

A single is scurried off the last to post a slightly underwhelming 147 for 9, for the Rapids. Could of course be proved badly wrong but still guessing somebody may get 180 or more on this strip, in this sunshine. (Proved wrong on this. No team could sustain the onslaught throughout their effort. Pitch *really gripped* as the day progressed and pressure unquestionably played a part).

The reply. Moeen will lead from the front. He almost has a wicket with each if his first four balls, what with miscues and a half-decent l.b. shout. Three from the over but no losses for Outlaws. (Rapids will need those losses rapidly, yes?)

Parnell is in and lively. Hits the swivelling Nash on the back. The batsman has his measure, though, striking four boundaries from the over, including an irresistible, sweetly-timed pull to leg for six. 21 for 0 after 2.

Hales straight-drives Morris classically for a further six. Rapids dare not let these two guys get in: 29 for 0 after 3.

Another change as Brown comes in, running towards us. Over the wicket, very straight initially. Remember him having a great day here, last year. Just the four from the over.

Hales drives Morris uppishly but beautifully through extra-cover for four. Quality. Moeen has a few quiet words with his bowler but Hales simply readjusts his feet and places t’other side of cover for a further boundary – ominously. 44 for 0 as Barnard joins us.

Moeen, at mid-off as per, makes the most obvious fielding error so far, allowing Hales to take four more.

The wicket the Rapids now urgently need, comes, as Nash is caught sweeping off Barnard. With Hales already on 27 off 19, there is a sense Rapids will need to make further inroads. Duckett – no slouch – joins Hales, as Moeen returns from the Pavilion End.

Review for a stumping, as Hales appears to come forward to Ali. Foot never raised behind, so the batsman stays. 55 for 1 after 7.

In comes Mitchell, with his slammy seam-spin. Six from the over. Followed by Barnard, whom Duckett cheekily lifts over the keeper, for four. Keeper is up, to Hales, despite the bowler’s pace.

Somehow Hales levers out what feels like an excellent, straight yorker for six. (Bowling can really be tough, in this format, eh. As if to emphasise the point, Duckett switches hands to ludicrously hoik-reverse D’Oliveira for four, in the next over).

At 83 for 1, Outlaws look well-set at the halfway mark – Rapids were 76 for 3. Runrate is a very do-able six-point-something. Hope the energy in the stadium doesn’t drain too much should Moeen and co depart early.

(Talking of energy, the bloke sat three foot two to my left appears to be *actually asleep*. Recognise him… but also not sure who he is… and may not split on him even if I did!)

Duckett nearly contrives to get himself run out: Moeen, who is bowling again, may need Outlaws to gift him something – and then some.

Hales again places the ball skilfully wide of extra, off Brown: Four. Then cuts to reach an untroubled 50. The guy is good; for all the issues around him, it seems entirely likely that a return to England white-ball cricket is on the cards at some stage. 99 for 1 after 13.

Moeen, who has bowled 3 overs for 9 runs thus far, will bowl his last towards us in the Media Centre. Hales swings, edges and is caught by the juggling keeper.

The Rapid’s captain will finish with 1 for 13: great effort but Parnell, following, may have to nail another victim, you suspect. Christian, who has bags of experience, and Duckett should see Outlaws home. (Hah. *Fatal*).

It’s quietish but calmish, out there. As if Outlaws are playing within themselves, or in the expectation of a victory. Non-explosive, then.

Comedy moment as Duckett shapes to lift behind himself and Cox behind the sticks reads it, throws up both mitts and almost palms an unlikely catch.

Soon after the same batsman will ease Barnard rather contemptuously behind square for four. Cute – great hands. Outlaws will need 26 from the last 3 overs: hardly a cruise but plenty of guys in reserve and this does look a pitch that you can score quickly on. Parnell will bowl left-arm round from the Birmingham End.

Christian ab-so-lutely crucifies a fullish delivery over square-leg for six. Then bundles a single. Duckett brings out the soft-handed scoop-pat behind to surely make this safe – 13 only required. Then 12, from the remaining 2 overs.

Pat Brown needs a hat-trick: plus. It’s thankless.

With the sun a-blazing, it could be that we shouldn’t be ruling out Divine Intervention (or something) but..

Hah! With Moeen reaching high, high, to claim the catch at mid-on, the Rapids have made a start. Or have they? 9 needed off 9.

Barnard booms high. Wessels catches and literally takes a bow, at long-off. Then (scrambled minds?) Mullaney is run out chasing a two he doesn’t need. In short, Duckett and Patel must find seven runs from the last over. Suddenly, a proper tingle. Parnell to bowl.

Patel is facing and he misses the first. Crowd involved. He slices away the second, for a single, meaning Duckett, on 48, will face. He also misses but they scurry a single off his pads. 5 from 3.

Patel plays a nervy half-pull, aerially but safe and they run two. And a single from the next means TWO REQUIRED FROM THE LAST BALL. How did we get here?!?

Hilariously – and stupidly, in my view – an Outlaw message is sent out but the umpire quite rightly sends the messenger back, much to the crowd’s enjoyment. Endless wait before the last ball… which Parnell pulls out of, mischievously.

Another nerve-jangler of a wait before DUCKETT MISSES THE LAST BALL! Ridiculously, the Rapids have won it, by one run. Magic and tragic. Spectacular and ludicrous. I repeat, Moeen’s Rapids have bloody won it!

 

Falcons v Eagles.

Distracted somewhat by the Peter Moores press conference… which I’d like to watch through, but then abscond from. Moores sincere, open and sincerely angry – no surprise, given what he’s just seen from his players.

Eagles to bat, then, with Delport and Westley to open. The former top-edges Van Beek in the second over but the ball finds safety in the covers. 14 for 0 off 2.

Rampaul looks strong: he slaps in a bouncer which Delport hooks, with control but little violence. Westley pulls for four. The Eagles openers are racing singles.

Hudson, from the city end, goes for 14, as Eagles move to 37 for no loss at the end of the 4th. Van Beek, following and going short of a length, initially, is a little tidier. 45 for 0 after 5.

Delport has 31 off 18: he rather flukes another four, edging Hudson behind. We have major fun, in the Hollies, centred on more Beach Ball Action. 56 for 0 as the power-play closes.

Hughes enters, from the Pavilion End. Westley almost lifts directly to long-on. Huge, sustained cry of “we want our ball back” from my right. Daft error from Du Plooy, at extra, almost gifts Eagles a boundary. It’s rowdy, already.

(The Hollies, on Finals Day, is different-level daft. ‘Mexicans’ to well, everything and everyone. Hilarious – in a loud, loud kindofaway).

Delport has 50 off 28. Then Eagles have 78 off 8. Falcons need something.

They have it. Delport departs, caught booming, off Hughes. 55 off 31 a decent contribution. Lawrence joins Westley.

Critchley’s up-and-over leg-spin is not troubling the batsmen unduly. Eagles reach 91 for 1 by the mid-way point.

Lawrence then Westley both look to slug over Cow Corner. The bowler smartly adjusts, going wide outside off and Lawrence miscues to deepish gully for 3. Enter ten Doeschate.

Reece is bowling left-arm round, from the Birmingham End. Medium-pace. He has the experienced South African leg before, third ball. Feels important. The incoming Bopara may need to re-claim the initiative, here. (Note the match programme describes his role as ‘middle-order accelerator. Fair enough).

100 up with a four steered through cover, off Hughes. Still beautiful and bright, out there. Another sleeper in the Media Centre. What’s up with these guys?!! 😂

Reece has Westley caught sweeping, for a steady 39. 107 for 4, with Wheater joining Bopara. Again, good running from the Eagles, who get two, square – and then the same to mid-wicket.

Critchley has changed ends. We can now see he is getting some spin. Bopara has to be watchful. The bowler is a little unlucky to concede through the keeper.

Satisfyingly, we are 123 for 4 off 15. 180 possible? More from Reece.

Wheater should maybe be run-out by Hughes but bold running again favours the Eagles. More drinks.

Critchley will finish his spell from beneath us. Wheater bunts for one. A real pie – full full-toss – escapes immediate punishment but draws the Free Hit. Wheater can only club to long-off for a single. We are 137 for 4 with 3 overs to come.

Rampaul returns, from the city. Another well-run two. Bopara maybe gets too cute – stepping outside leg then across, to scoop. The miscue goes to hand, leaving the bowler fist-pumping to the crowd. Walter – left-handed – joins Wheater.

Eagles are 145 for 5 with twelve balls remaining. The umpires are having words with Falcon’s skipper, Godleman. Reece will bowl the penultimate, from the Pavilion End.

Wheater survives a close-ish potential stumping but no dramas. 150 up but again the innings has failed to accelerate. Credit some decent bowling but maintain (despite the evidence!) that a performance-that-builds could find 170-180, here. Rampaul for the last.

Eagles finish on a round 160 for 5, the bowler denying further boundaries with some full deliveries aimed into the heels.

 

The reply.

Reece edges Porter fortuitously for four, first ball. Then drives through mid-wicket for four more. He keeps going – smashing the next over Cow Corner for six. Quite a start.

The next is drilled hard back at the bowler, catching both him and the umpire on the way through for a single. Fifteen, from the over, all from the left-handed Reece. Beard will follow.

Reece lifts him calmly to long-on for four, before being stunningly caught behind, by the diving Wheater. 19 for 1, as Madsen walks in there to join his skipper, who has barely faced.

Porter is in from the city end. Bowls around to the left-handed Godleman but the angle works against the bowler, as one towards leg slides away to the boundary. Godleman then stun-drives the follow-up beautifully for four, through extra-cover. Falcons are 30 for 1 after 3.

The Eagles captain turns his first delivery markedly, bowling his opposite number comprehensively: Harmer is notably pumped. Du Plooy joins Madsen. He is promptly beaten by another goodish off-break but has not left his ground – not out on review. The Hollies are loving The Proclaimers.

Our first look at Nijjar, from the Birmingham End. Madsen likes what he sees, going immediately four, six. *Things move on* – as they do, in this format. A sweep for four then a miss and Madsen is gone, for 17. Hughes will come in at 48 for 3. Game broiling early.

Bopara. 50-up during the over. Firm cut for four, from Hughes – touch aerial but safe. 59 for 3 as the power-play concludes.

Absolute peach, from Harmer, sees off Du Plooy. Flighted and turned – just beautiful. Wow. Next ball does for Dal. The Eagles skipper is on a hat-trick… but no.

Great over, nevertheless, leaving Falcons struggling on 67 for 5. Still plenty of overs remain – twelve – but do Derby have the batting?

Bopara, from the Birmingham End. Critchley and Hughes the batsmen. Quiet over.

Harmer’s figures flash up as he starts his third over; 3 for 6. Another decent over and Falcons are 78 for 5 after 10. (Eagles were 91 for 1). We’ve seen already that complacency is ill-advised but when Nijjar bowls Critchley the Eagles are emphatically on top.

Smit joins Hughes, who has 22 from 19 at this point. The Hollies also like Human League, apparently. Enter Lawrence, from the Pavilion End. Can barely remember a boundary.

An idiosyncratic action, for sure, has Lawrence, but again he applies the squeeze. Falcons 85 for 6, after 12.

Nijjar will bowl his last from the city. He deceives Hughes and Wheater does the rest; stumped, for 23. This is in danger of being that most unfortunate of things, the tame exit, for Derbyshire Falcons.

Hudson-Prentice is in but Lawrence bowls him, with another fine off-break: clearly the ball is gripping. 91 for 8. Extravagant turn evident: wondering if that may be key, or whether cooler, dewier(?) conditions might mitigate against, later?

Bopara is back, under no pressure. He races to collect and throws down the stumps but Van Beek is home.

Essex concede their first boundary in an age as Smit brings up the 100 with a sweep behind square. Then the same batsman launches a straight six – again off Lawrence. *Something special* needed but very recent history arms us all against excluding anything-&-everything, yes? Delport will bowl the 17th, with 51 required.

A scratchy four leaves us at 43 needed from 18 balls. Again Harmer draws the wicket, Smit reversing to point. Rampaul and Van Beek must then, find something pret-ty extraordinary.

The former at least launches one – six over midwicket. Harmer comes back with a delicious, looping number that gets right into the blockhole. The run-rate is 20-odd so Delport has merely to keep it on the strip, you would think.

Cue the wide.

Rampaul lofts one out to the in-rushing long-off and the catch is taken. Essex Eagles reach the final, 34 runs the winning margin. A much-needed break, for all of us.

Brief reflections. The hospitality for us mediapeeps is outstanding here and should be placed on the record. (Thank you, you Edgbastonians).

Hearing whispers from players that batting did become more challenging as the pitch dried and the ball turned. Certainly Harmer and Lawrence enjoyed themselves: will be fascinating to see how things develop, as we lose the light and gain some autumnal dew.

Regarding the schedule, three games is again going to feel like a lot… but this is arguably about a particular kind of stamina, as well as bursts of instinctive or tactical brilliance. So utterly meaningless to draw comparisons of any sort with the #KSL equivalent. I’ve enjoyed both.

 

The Final Countdown…

Both captains have had a good day, so far but which will make *that call?* And given that conditions are going to go from balmy Arabia to Autumnal Brummie Dewfest what will they opt for? Toughish call but guessing folks will insert the opposition.

Harmer wins and chooses to bowl. Good luck to both. Deep breath and we go again, soonish.

Predictions-wise, am loathe to do it. Harmer presumably thinks that Lawrence and himself can get some meaningful turn – available before the dark descends but less so afterwards(?) – and this may be important. Particularly so if combined with the ball sliding on helpfully for his batters, later. But this is a tad unknowable. Whatever, the teams are out!

The Rapids again send out Rutherford and Wessels. The former will face Lawrence. Big spin, for the bowler but he’s wide – too wide. He draws an edge – it runs away through vacant slip.

Then the breakthrough. Big off-break simply too good, for Rutherford. 5 for 1 and Moeen is in, to huge applause. A mistimed sweep draws half an appeal but the ball is adjudged to have pitched down the leg-side. It’s already clear that batting may not be easy: Moeen is beaten more than once and pushes aerially twice, without consequence.

Cook, coming in from the Birmingham End, is cut away by Wessels, for four. There is some lateral movement for Cook’s medium-pacers, too, but when he drops short Moeen swishes him to midwicket: four. Great hands from the Rapid’s captain as he eases away through point for four more.

Batting will be a challenge but men in blue have found 23 for that one down, in the first two overs. Beard runs in as the dusk begins to come.

The National Anthem. Weirdly.

Little sloppy, from the bowler – a further wide. No boundaries in the over, mind. It’s raining in Pembrokeshire, apparently.

Cook is in again and going fullish, straightish, to Ali. Moeen gets hold of the shorter one; six over mid-wicket. Delport saves four with a particularly sharp stop at point. 36 for 1 after 4.

Lawrence is back from the Pavilion End. Moeen again lifts, somewhat, towards point: safe. Wessels misses out on a full-toss. Guessing 90% of the crowd are still with us. Good stuff, there, from the Eagles offie – only two from the over.

Bopara will come round to Moeen from the city end. The batsman is watchful then electrifying, heaving for six over mid-wicket. Nine from the over: power-play done, Rapids at 47 for 1.

Harmer, who bowled so expertly earlier, is in from underneath us. There is turn again. Wessels collars him, however, for six. We’re really seeing the lights, now – the floodlights, I mean.

Bopara continues. Once more Moeen connects with a shorter one, but deep mid-wicket can comfortably gather in. We are at 60 for 1 after 8.

Harmer also continues. Some mediocre throwing coming in, from the Eagles. Big Moment as Moeen is defeated by the spin and only succeeds in dinking rather feebly back to the bowler. Harmer must dive but it’s straightforward enough. In comes Cox.

Ugghh. The newcomer looks to sweep a full-toss and is l.b.w. Meaning Harmer is on his second potential hat-trick of the day. He will come around, to Parnell.

Impassioned shout, as the batsman is beaten and ball strikes pad. Not out. But 62 for 3 after 9 feels different. Harmer’s decision at the toss gonna be key, we reckon? Early. Nijjar from the Birmingham End.

Parnell slaps him straight for six, before getting a faint tickle behind for four. That mysterious purple-dark is around us as we reach half-way. 75 for 3.

Harmer persists and beats Parnell. Then errs to leg, drawing wide-plus-runs, as it were. It seems the bowler can get away with being slightly short, such is the degree of turn available. Another killer ball beats the outside edge and we await the review.

Parnell is not out.

Lawrence. Again a slight sense that the out-fielding is just a touch out of sorts. Partnership beginning to form, here – Wessels has 24 and Parnell 19 as we finish the 12th. 89 for 3, the Rapids.

Predictably, Harmer will bowl out. He has a further strong appeal – denied. The Eagles skipper is celebrating soon enough: arm ball scuttles through Parnell. 3 for 16 the bowler’s figures.

Mitchell engineers a boundary through third man, off Nijjar – fine shot. Eagles on top, marginally, however.

Bopara from the Pavilion End. 100 up as Mitchell guides behind point. Ones being taken. Poor ball is dispatched calmly behind square for four. 107 for 4 after 15. Meaning what? 150? That should make a game of it, methinks.

Harmer can’t quite get to one at the boundary edge but the wicket comes anyway. Wessels run out – just – by a fine throw, for a solid-enough 31. Whitely joins Mitchell. 113 for 5 after 16.

Lawrence returns for the 17th. We are dark, now. He goes wide across Mitchell: firstly the batsman misses. Then four, then caught behind point. Importantly, Eagles now have two new batters to bowl at, at a crucial time. Delport will bowl the 18th – his first.

An awful short one is deservedly carted to leg. Six. But Whiteley can only hoist to long-on. Seven down. Barnard has joined D’Oliveira. 130 for 7 with two overs to come.

Nijjar has switched ends for the penultimate over. The batsmen race two. No dramas – goodish, from the bowler. Bopara will follow.

D’Oliveira can’t time it. Barnard scoops weirdly behind, straight to Harmer. Enter Brown.

Bopara bowls a loose one which defeats everything – Wheater included. Four. Then D’Oliveira heaves to forty-five (for four) before holing out to deep mid-wicket, last ball. 145 for 9 the total.

The final knock – Westley and Delport march out. Moeen will lead again, for the Rapids. Not expecting as much spin as Harmer and Lawrence but Mo should ask the proverbial questions, yes?

Sure enough Delport mistimes one and Ali concedes just the single. Game on. Morris will follow from the Birmingham End.

Cute slower ball befuddles the batsman, Westley. But the next is smoothed through mid- on for the first boundary of the innings. Lots of consulting with his skipper, from Morris – Moeen remains close by, at mid-off. He comes around and goes quick, at Delport. 8 for 0 after 2.

More pace as Parnell joins from beneath us. The left/right batting combo means lots of movement in the field. A loose full-toss draws the error; Delport picking out the fielder – Clarke – at long-on. 9 for 1.

Wheater is in. Another loose one from the bowler – half-volley on leg – is timed nicely, running away for four through mid-wicket. 16 for 1 after 2.

Brown will bowl the third. Medium-strength appeal for l.b. – denied. A shade to leg, in all likelihood. Swingannamiss from Wheater draws a gasp or three – was *adjacent*.

We are 20 for 1 after 4. (Rapids were 36 for 1 at the same stage). Westley clubs Morris out to deep midwicket for two, then drives with some style through extra. The first Mexican Wave fails, in the Hollies.

Barnard rushes in, from the Birmingham End. Three come short of a length before a fuller one finds the top edge. The bowler is unlucky to concede four, aerially,  through gully. 36 for 1 at the end of the power-play.

D’Oliveira will bring leg-spin from the Pavilion End. Goodish – limited damage – six from the over.

Now Mitchell. Slow-medium. Vulnerable? Lols – bowls Wheater with an off-break! Lawrence in at four, for Eagles.

D’Oliveira continues. Fifty up in the over, which is again looking tidy enough. Lawrence needs to counter and he does, with a classic, lofted off-drive for six. 59 for 2 as we enter the 10th, with Mitchell.

Rapids reached 75 for 3 at halfway; Eagles are 12 down on that figure – hardly terminal – with a wicket in hand. Could get tense: let’s hope?

Parnell, returning, draws a slightly miscued pull and a wicket. Good hands (just) from the inrushing Brown. Lawrence is joined by ten Doeschate.

Moeen is in from the Birmingham End. Lowish, flattish and claiming the wicket: ten Doeschate drilling straight to mid-on. 76 for 4, now, Eagles. The fella Bopara – incoming – may need to do something.

Brown from under my nose. Easing it through. Moeen talking to him before every ball. Nine p.m. Ground still 90% full.

Moeen once more, city lights behind him. Lawrence hoists ver-ry high, towards Wessels. With the boundary *in attendance* the catch is claimed. 82 for 5. Walter joins Bopara.

Moeen maintains the squeeze. He has 2 for 13 from 3. Eagles need 60 from 36 balls. Do-able but testing.

Barnard fires in an excellent yorker. And another. A length ball then beats the left-handed Walter. Bopara must break out.

Barnard over-pitches but Bopara is lucky to edge though first slip, for four. However the stroke that follows is a classic cover drive. Four more. 97 for 5, off 15.

Moeen again. Beats Walter but there is no stumping. 100 up at the mid-point of the over. Bopara digs deep to lever one out over long-off. Six. 39 needed, from 24 balls.

Brown from the Pavilion End. Dot ball. Precious. Bopara again responds, middling hard and flat over mid-wicket. Six more. Proper Finish brewing. Scoreboard tells the watching universe that Eagles are only a run behind at this moment.

Walter can’t time it but scuttles for one. Bopara has one meaning he keeps the strike. 116 for 5 after 17.

Parnell has changed ends but bowls one down leg for a wide. ‘Sweet Caroline’. Bloody daft but also somehow poignant.

Really quick one whistles past Walter’s off-stump. Another one finds the pad – maybe off an inside edge? Bopara takes a two at the end of the over when one might have been better. 23 to win it, from 12.

Brown again. Single, to Walter. My hunch? That Bopara will get Eagles there. He smashes one towards deep mid-wicket but the fielder’s hands are sure. Just the one.

Now Walter contributes, clubbing down the ground for four. But Brown does him, next ball. Biggish inside edge, to be fair but the ball strikes those stumps, sure enough. 129 for 6. 17 needed from 8.

Make that 13 from 7. Skipper Harmer has immediately clonked one downtown for four. The Eagles man also connects with the follow-up but can only find the fielder at long-off. Meaning he will face Parnell, with his side needing 12 from the over. A single gives Bopara the strike.

Parnell slaps one in short of a length and it works. Bopara gets just the one. 8 from 3 becomes 6 from 2. Harmer facing. He clubs downtown for four!

EAGLES NEED TWO FROM THE LAST BALL!!

Parnell is doubled-over with exhaustion, or tension, or something. Doesn’t augur well, to be honest.

With the field up, Harmer gets enough of it to win this thing! The ball rolling tantalisingly behind point for four.

Eagles have won, dramatically – their first Blast trophy. Somebody may need to buy their skipper a bevvy. The day, the event, the drama has been stonking again. Well done to everybody. Oh to be an Eagle tonight!

 

May reflect further. May also collapse. Certainly going outside to take a picture or two, before retreating to my room coupla miles down the road. Thank you for your company.  A RT  would be lovely.  👊🏻

 

#KSLFinalsDay. The final final.

An adventure, as always loaded up with expectation, adrenalin, hope, memory. To unfamiliar but not entirely unknown Sussex. To the place where bruv number 2 did some college, where we stalked past a bombed hotel(!) – where we partied.

But that really was long ago. So who knew Brighton had hills? I remember the Grand Regency Architecture Thing but not the hills. I remember shingle. And no question of cricket.

The now is different. I’m here because I follow women’s cricket some, because there’s Welsh interest, because I got accreditation. I’m expecting an event but with that gentler thrum; with its own authentic, romantic force and quality.

On the long train-ride in I’m picturing a win for Western Storm and want that, in a non-partisan kindofaway. But there is space in the daydream for some brilliance from Wyatt, Beaumont and somebody less familiar. I’m really hoping to learn something.

The whole thing’s a huge indulgence – a bloggist’s folly. It’s for me and for registering a tiny voice.

I hope too, that it makes explicit something of the value of the women’s game. Here’s how Sunday in Hove went…

First thoughts? Wow. What a day. Hove has kicked back into summery stuff, after last evening’s autumnal grey. The ground is looking low and somehow both open for light but also cwtched rather romantically into the groovicious near-seafront. For Hove, for Brighton, make no mistake, is pret-ty groovy.

Yesterday, having walked into the 1st Central County Ground for the first time, I tweeted two, instinctive words. Autumn… and Shrubsole. Because it was autumn yesterday and because I imagined Our Anya swinging it about three foot two. Even the white thing. Today is very different. Today is absolutely beautiful.

11 am. A further wander round confirms it really is sickeningly pleasant – and ideal for the athletes. Sure the Vipers & Lightning Posses are ‘warming up’ but this may be as much about culture as necessity. Wyatt and Beaumont and the rest are surely expelling nerves as much as *actually preparing*, which could be done in about two minutes flat, I reckon, today. (O-kaaay. I know this isn’t entirely true. But you get my drift, yes?)

So sun. Sun and a light breeze. And a straw-coloured deck and boundaries in and summery toons from those ubiquitous, faintly sinister black speakers. Cricket weather to the beatific max.

But predictions? Storm are outstanding and also durable, somehow. Lightning are absolutely flying – six wins on the bounce. Vipers have Beaumont, Bates and Wyatt. So how, in a 20 over format, are we reasonably going to predict anything?

Storm should be advantaged in that they sit out the first game – the ‘semi’. All the Stormtroopers power and energy can therefore be focussed on that single, final effort. (I think this may tell. This and the fact that I suspect they have marginally the strongest squad).

I break off briefly to guffaw at the Vipers S & C Coach (I think) who joins in the end of a movement drill to throw hopelessly and wusstastically at a single stump. And I really do mean wusstastically).

…Then I break off into Proper Cricket, if I may?

Elwiss has won the toss for Lightning and has chosen to bat: Daggers on comms describing it as a ‘good-looking strip’, or similar. So in half an hour Vipers will bowl at Loughborough Lightning and the #KSLFinalsDay will be underway.

A further distraction before we return to those non-predictions. Charlotte Edwards – Lottie to most – is looking cool and authoritative in her Vipers clobber, as she belts some forward drives at rotating catchers. Demanding stuff, with few catches taken because of the sharpness of the striking. Closing out with respectful rather than pally high- fives. Could she be the next England Coach? Clearly she’s a front-runner.

But predictions. I predict any of these three teams could win this. Because talent everywhere and because the nature of T20 cricket. Wyatt could win this on her own; as could Knight, Priest, Shrubsole, Jones, Atapattu etc etc (pick your own).

I am expecting key contributions from those named whilst *looking out for something fabulous* from Smriti Mandhana with the bat, Wilson in the field, Lauren Bell with the ball. Plus did I mention Tammy Beaumont, yet? If not, let’s note to the universe that she has the talent and the mentality to go big on a Big Stage. Flipping through the programme, I’m going for Storm, because they feel deeper.

11.50 and the sun really does break through again, after twenty minutes of moodier climes. I’m really ready to enjoy this: as always, wish there slightly more here to appreciate. Minor grump: as so often the mood music (😂) and announcements are shockingly, embarrassingly, unnecessarily too loud. Hang the DJ.

Tash Farrant will open, for Vipers, Atapattu to face.

We’re not behind the bowler’s arm, in the Media Centre so difficult to see how much shape there was from Farrant – suspect some. But no real threat. Eight come from the over including a full-toss, last ball, dispatched straight for four.

From the Cromwell Road End, excitingly, it’s Lauren Bell. Bell is strikingly tall and slim – and eighteen years of age. And notably quicker than Farrant. She beats the openers twice, with pace and a touch more bounce, conceding just the four runs in the over. Good start.

Farrant, returning, goes full but is smartly driven for four, by Jones. There is generous applause for some neat outfielding from Bell – the crowd is building, encouragingly. We are 20 for 0 after 3. Little bit of swing available from both ends, track looking benign and maybe slowish.

Bell, whose run-up features something of a deceleration pre- gather, it seems, is looking committed. But she bowls a second wide – this time down leg. Jones, though, offers a gift, stepping out wide looking to invent something over fine leg. Daft and unnecessary and out, bowled.

Wyatt will bowl the 4th, with Adams joining Atapattu. Good energy, as always from the England dasher, who is looking to tweak it for Atapattu’s edge. 23 for 1 at the end of her over.

Bell returns for her third and gets Atapattu in front. Lovely, full delivery which swings just enough – late. Big moment? Enter the skipper Elwiss.

Unfortunately the young quick messes up the rest of the over. Two no-balls followed by a wide. Cue the mutterings about not winning anything with kids. 33 for 2 as the powerplay ends.

Wellington, who is watchable; big-turning leggies possible. Adams rather lamely lifts the second one out through cover… but safely. Then she paddles one fine for four. Turn, though. 39 for 2.

Off-spin, from the other end, with Morris.  Just as I am about to note the complete absence of power-hitting so far, Elwiss clouts her straightish for four.

Wellington in for more. Elwiss and Adams, experienced both, have upped the ante. Sharper running, heavier hitting. Elwiss again strikes hard for four, evading the diving Bell. 56 for 2 after 9 as Bates tries her medium-pacers from Cromwell Road. A wide to leg but overall a tidy start.

Elwiss greets the returning Wyatt with another aggressive blow for four before Adams carts her for the first six of the innings. Good spell this, for Lightning, after a slowish beginning. 76 for 2 after 11.

Farrant has changed ends and will be looking to re-apply some control. Better than that. A rash second run means Elwiss is short, and gone for a goodish 28. Lightning are 85 for 3 after 12. Game feels even.

Bates takes a cool catch at fine leg, to remove Adams, again for 28, Wellington the bowler. Importantly, there are now two new batters at the crease – Freeborn and du Preez. Excellent, competitive game brewing.

Bell will bowl her final over but starts with a wide outside off. Another wide one is eased for four. A third is (actually for the second time) smashed straight back at her; too brutally to offer a catch, you would say. Then another wide. Bell finishes with 2 for 23; decent, for sure but maybe not entirely reflecting how mixed her contribution was. She is a talent, and this is a big stage but there was some loose stuff in there.

Bates returns from in front of us and du Preez lifts her impressively for six, before smashing another one back at the bowler, again un-catchably. Freeborn joins in with a further pull for four, bringing us to 110 for 4 after 15. Good total now in sight.

Particularly as du Preez booms Morris for the third six of the innings – this one to square leg. Morris has her revenge, mind, as Wyatt takes a comfortable catch immediately after. Enter Gunn.

The first really poor bit of fielding as Kelly dives over one, allowing the boundary. Vipers have been generally pretty sharp out there. As if to emphasise this, Wyatt takes another catch in the deep with some style – Freeborn the victim. As we start the 18th, Lightning will be 127 for 6.

Manifestly poor calling and running sees Gardner run out for 0. Gunn maybe culpable there. The veteran cuffs one through square leg by way of apology. 133 for 7 with 2 overs remaining.

Beaumont (I’m afraid) looks to have slightly bottled a sharpish catch to mid-off. At the very least, she misjudged it. The Vipers captain is rightly angry, as will be her bowler, Farrant. Can Gunn and Glenn take their team to 150 and beyond? It feels *that kind of pitch*.

Maybe not. Morris takes a steepler to remove Glenn, off Bates. Then Wyatt again swallows another blow to deep midwicket – Higham gone. Bates promptly bowls Gordon, rather humiliatingly, to finish the action at 143 all out. Vipers are in it but seem 20 short; expecting a Proper Game, though.

Interestingly, Atapattu will open for the Lightning: Bates facing. Third ball is threaded beautifully through the covers for four. Wyatt takes a wild swing and is hugely fortunate to clip it over her own right shoulder for four: Atapattu not that impressed with the chase and dive at the boundary edge. Me neither.

Gunn will bowl the second. Wyatt picks her off to leg for four. There is a wide, to off and an ambitious slap over mid-on that brings six. Followed by another, more controlled, over extra. Wyatt has 18 off 6 and the Vipers are 29 for 0 off just 2 overs.

Lightning change; Glenn will bring her leg-spin to try and break the momentum. Decent over, conceding just the five runs.

Bates clatters one inelegantly through the hands of mid-on for four before clearing that same fielder more convincingly: Atapattu the bowler on both occasions. Vipers have raced to 45 for 0 off the first 4 overs. Slightly worryingly, this with Bates looking slightly out of touch, so far.

*Fatal*. The opener creams one over mid-on for a further boundary. 50 up. When Wyatt skilfully cuts to third man for four more, then the angst becomes palpable. 57 for 0 after 5, with Lightning unable to check the onslaught.

Gardner brings more pace but no relief, Bates pull-driving through mid-on. Then rather cruelly, Gunn’s lack of athleticism is highlighted as she drops a goodish chance over the boundary, to groans from the crowd. The opening six overs have brought 70 runs but 0 wickets. Wow.

What can Gordon do?

Bates whips her hard through midwicket for four. But the left-arm offie bowls her with a beauty to offer some hope. 76 for 1. Beaumont mistimes her first ball but escapes with a nick through slip.

Glenn has changed ends. Wyatt, trying to force a wide one, overbalances. She is stumped. 78 for 2. Timely and critical response from the bowling side. Two new batters at the crease as Bouchier joins her captain, Tammy Beaumont.

A great throw from Gordon has Beaumont scrambling but she’s in. 80 for 2 as the Scot returns from in front of us. It’s not the most beautiful of actions but Gordon does deceive people and revs on the ball means she does tend to get some turn.

Elwiss from the Cromwell Road End. But Beaumont relishes that extra bit of pace and cuts superbly and crisply for four. However Bouchier is run-out to bring Lightning back into the game, at 92 for 3.

Beaumont, who may now be key, skilfully guides Gordon to fine leg for four, before check-driving through the offside cordon. Great stuff and the 100 is up.

Elwiss. Beaumont swings herself off her feet, comically – no consequence, save for the giggles. Then a short one is mishit when pulled… but into safety. 105 for 3 after 12; Lightning were 85.

Classy, wristy, timed clip through midwicket from Beaumont is shockingly misfielded by Higham but then the skipper is gone, inside-edging Gunn onto the sticks. From nowhere, that: Beaumont made 24. Wellington joins Morris.

After 14 overs it boils down to 30 runs required from 36; 6 wickets remaining. Eminently do-able, you would think but credit Lightning for narrowing the game, somewhat. Gordon will bowl.

Three dot balls help. Four. Five. Two off the last. Fine effort from Gordon means there is just a tad more tension in the air. 28 off 30.

Elwiss, the captain is in again. Wellington – who can bat – steers the third ball over mid-off. Four. Then a strangely nervy edge flies out towards point… to safety.

Maybe it gets to Morris. She plays extravagantly across a straight one and is bowled. Five down. And a near run-out follows. Atapattu will bowl the 17th, with 20 required.

She starts with an extraordinarily slow one, which concedes just the one, surprisingly. But nerves are a factor here. Another scramble to get home. Three overs, fifteen runs, for the final.

Gunn, from Cromwell Road. Another über-slow delivery – bold. A hoist to leg invites a catch. A tough one… not taken by du Preez. Then another one drops just short. The batters negotiate the over, just about, and nine are needed from the last two. Glenn will bowl the penultimate.

Wellington reverse-sweeps, executing precisely. Four. Job done?

The tall legspinner does well enough, in truth but cannot entirely stop the runs. Scholfield pulls her convincingly for four to settle it.

Vipers are through, at 145 for 5, with an over spare. One of those games that seemed done early, with almost arrogant ease, went closer. Wyatt’s dynamism and consistently fine catching the difference?

 

THE FINAL.

Vipers will bat, Tammy Beaumont having won the toss and chosen that route. We have a little more cloud than earlier and that has affected the temperatures negatively, a tad. Whether this suits the likes of Shrubsole, for Storm, we’ll soon find out: expect her to bowl soon enough. Game on any moment…

Wales’ offie Claire Nicholas will bowl first up, Bates to face. Single taken. Wyatt again partnering Bates. Four from the over. Now Davies from the Cromwell Road End. Storm notably vocal and energetic in the field.

First boundary is a nicely-judged cut behind point, from Wyatt. Freya Davies has a lovely high hand and dynamic approach. There is a little bounce for her but when she goes full Bates straight-drives for four. 14 for 0 after 2.

Nicholas again. Wyatt advances but misses. Not the next time. Half the universe was sensing a Wyatt Break-out and it comes, sure enough. Six over midwicket. Bates joins in by slashing a wide-ish one through extra. 26 for 0 after 3.

More spin, different spinner as Sharma – surprisingly still only 21 – comes in. Luff might have stopped the sweep but four is taken, followed by four more driven past mid-off. 37 for 0 off 4. Goodish start for the Vipers but no alarms yet for Storm. Davies has changed ends.

Wyatt slogs but with purpose – through extra cover and then over it. What a #KSL she’s having! Clean hitting so limited risk. Then a cute swish of a cut – four more. Could be Wyatt won the semi with a charge to 28: suddenly she has 35 here. Vipers 53 for 0 after 5. Time for Shrubsole.

Knight stops brilliantly at mid-off. Bates edges behind, safely. A wider one is driven out through extra again, signalling danger, for the Storm. Chanceless and positive, so far, for Vipers; 62 for 0 a good return for the powerplay.

Odedra starts with a sloppy one to leg. Wide. Then a slow-mo moment. Firstly her run-up is slowish. Then the delivery is miscued, highish in the bat and the ball loops, painfully slowly away from the bowler. She seems to be *not quite there* – but no. She surges and dives to take a stunner of a one-handed catch, bringing a burst of applause. Bates gone.

But this brings in Beaumont. Wyatt, meanwhile is purring, cutting exquisitely behind square for four. Change again as Knight brings herself in for the eighth.

These batters may be England’s two finest – particularly in the shorter formats. They can scurry, they have skilful hands and what they lack in raw power they tend to make up for in timing and/or invention. Hands are switched, minds are twitchy and alive. Wyatt gets to 50 off 27 with Sharma now bowling from in front of us in the Media Centre.

Storm, led by Priest behind the wicket, are still on it. Verbal, attentive. But Luff lets them down. Bottling (possibly) a well-struck pull to the deep – certainly making a hash of a genuine chance.

Shrubsole draws a glaring error from Beaumont but the ball loops safe. Typically the Viper’s skipper recovers immediately, to guide to third man for four. After ten overs, the batting side are relatively comfortable, on 99 for 1. Shrubsole’s two overs have been decent rather than threatening.

Nicholas has Beaumont in knots but she escapes as the ball skirts everything. Again the batter responds with cruel efficiency; beautiful hands cut and lift high over cover for four. 106 for 1 after 11.

Oh calamity! Odedra spills a clear chance at third man. Mandhana drops the next – even easier – at mid-off. Infuriating and simply not good enough, from either. An awful couple of minutes, culminating in an utter pie from the no-doubt infuriated skipper, carted waaay over Cow Corner by a grateful Wyatt. Momentum strongly with Vipers, now.

Storm need a gift or need to make something happen. Big Score Pending. Beaumont dismisses one to leg, to emphasise the point. 124 for 1 after 13. Meaning close to 200 possible.

Davies is back again. But wow. Beaumont has found Exhibition Mode. Picks one up (and then some) from off her toes: it soars for six, winking back at the gawping fielders. Huge statement of quality.

But finally, somebody holds a catch. Shrubsole, who claims Wyatt, inevitably within a whisker of the boundary. Wyatt made an outstanding 73 and is already a strong candidate for Player of the Match.

Oh jaysus. The previously magbloodynificent Beaumont has only gone and run-out Bouchier for 0. Hideous, hideous episode.

Can Sharma capitalise? No. But she can do that annoying thing where she pulls out of her delivery; neither mankad-attempt (quite) nor genuine issue… just, yeh, irritating.

Possible change in things as Beaumont edges high off Shrubsole and another catch is held. Morris joins Wellington and we are 141 for 4, after 16. It brightens again.

The Aussie (Wellington) reverse-sweeps Sharma for four. Morris sweeps more conventionally, with the same result. 153 for 4, with 3 to come.

Nicholas will bowl. Shrubsole, not a great athlete, dives awkwardly to prevent a straight four but fails. The off-spinner has Wellington l.b.w. before bamboozling the incoming Scholfield with the final delivery. 158 for 5 as Davies comes prancing in.

A sweetly-struck clip to backward square is competently taken by Luff. What really might have been 184 is 164 for 6 as Shrubsole prepares to bowl the last.

A relatively low-key final over suits the Stormtroopers and Shrubsole delivers, bowling to her field and claiming a further wicket. Rudd does spoon her up and over for a cheeky last-ball four but the total of 172, despite being pret-ty impressive, may not be as utterly out of reach as seemed possible when Wyatt and Beaumont were unpicking the attack.

So excellent work from Vipers, mixed effort from Storm… and let’s hope for a thrilling contest.

Priest will face Farrant. Little bit of in-swing still there. Wide, to Mandhana. Then drama. Mandhana rather carelessly lifts one towards mid-on. It seems clear that Kelly has misjudged it but no. She launches forward late to take a fine, if somehow also non-stylish catch! Gift, for Vipers. 2 for 1 after 1.

Lauren Bell is in at Priest. Single. Knight will now face. The finest of edges beats the sprawling keeper – four. Then an l.b. appeal – but na. Followed by a flourish of the hands and four through forty-five.

Bell loses that line again, though, for a biggish leg-side wide… followed by a clear offside wide… and a marginal leg-side wide. Another looong over finishes with Storm on 16 for 1.

Priest middles Farrant through midwicket for a mighty four. Knight looks goodish early, too, timing through the same area.

Bates, going slightly wide, has Priest missing rather strangely, twice. A straighter one is clubbed downtown for four. It may be cooler out there but the day – suddenly the September day – could still hardly be better. Wyatt will bowl the fifth; off-spin from around.

There is talk that Wyatt might yet break into the (Very Occasional) Test side, should her bowling develop. She does give it a decent tweak. But Priest helps herself to something short and something wide, for three boundaries, in total.

Bell going yorker length. But then overdoes it – full toss clumped for four by Priest. 50 up, in the over and the powerplay concludes on that figure, for 1 down. Enter Wellington, with her right-arm leggies.

This young woman has something. A real beauty loops and turns sharply, exposing Priest for the stumping. 50 for 2, bringing Wilson to the crease. Rather beautifully and atmospherically, we have shadows.

Courageously and with conviction, Heather Knight is sweeping Wellington. Connects for four. Good contest.

Bell is back and placing it there but still apparently challenging Wilson, who falls, making the shot. Bell contributes to the extras column again, with another no-ball – her fourth or fifth, I think, of the day. Free hit makes only one.

Wilson steps out to claim another boundary off the youngster. We are 66 for 2 after 8.

The same batter times another sweep, off Wellington, moving to 8. Knight at this point has an authoritative 23 off 21, which becomes 27, with the stroke of the day, a fabulous cover drive.

Wilson responds with a straight drive for four off Morris’s opener. This is brewing nicely, now. Decent shout for l.b.w. – umpire not interested and of course no DRS. Comms inform us Vipers were 99 for 1 after 10 overs: Storm are 80 for 2.

Hah. Did the announcement prompt the blow to the extra boundary, from Knight? Maybe not. But it’s a sign that there’s a) some catching up to do b) the batters are on it. Given that the Vipers’ innings did slightly peter out, this feels a contest – particularly with both Knight and Wilson striking so cleanly.

Ah. Wilson holes out to Wyatt, inevitably, in the deep, off Farrant, for 18. Luff joins her captain, with 83 needed, off 53. That captain again responds, with a towering, swept six, to square leg. 98 for 3, off 12.

Wellington drops short, Knight cuts and Tarrant misfields. Four. Luff, though, is caught behind, presumably off the glove, bringing in Sharma. Knight needs a partner to help her shine.

Bell misfields, poorly, as Sharma reverse-sweeps. Four. 10 off the over.

Morris now, to Sharma as we build to what we hope will be a grand finale – for this tournament, the Super League, remember. A loose ball is carted to leg. Knight has 50.

Bates, from in front of us. Medium pace. Short. Again thrashed with confidence for six, by Knight. Eleven from the over, 46 needed from 30. *Quietly exciting*.

Bell, with a job to do, from the Cromwell Road End. A test.

Single. Single. Six, again from Knight, who may be on for something extraordinary, here. Then more issues for the unfortunate young bowler. In short a Significantly Costly Over. Things have narrowed to 29 from 24 as Wellington steps up to the plate once more.

You feel that if Knight stays there, Storm get this. And I reckon she knows that. A poor, poor, nervy ball from Wellington… is missed. Six only, from the over.

23 from 18. Wonderful and tense. Knight must get the strike – Sharma has 21, somehow but at this point is missing as much as hitting.

Wyatt is bowling the 18th. Sharma sweeps ver-ry fine, for four. Then hoists, straight, for FOUR! I’m too scrambled to count but I think that over went for 11. STORM NEED TWELVE FROM TWELVE TO TAKE THE TROPHY.

I’ll have what Sharma’s drinking. She’s *found something*  and found another four, through midwicket. Bates must stem the tide. Two great balls might help. A smooth but blistering drive over extra won’t – won’t help the Vipers. Sharma and Knight look to be taking this home, magnificently.

THE CAPTAIN, HEATHER KNIGHT, BLAZES OVER STRAIGHTISH MID-OFF… AND WESTERN STORM HAVE ONLY GONE AND DONE IT!! Wow. What a fab-yoo-luss finish.  Fabulous from Knight, from Sharma (actually), fabulous from Wyatt, earlier, fabulous for women’s cricket. Brilliant, enjoyable sport. Wow.

Right. *Takes deep breath*. Forgive any typo’s. I’m off to wish Sparky O’Leary all the best. Will be back to reflect, no doubt. 

Final Word has to be for Heather Knight. And maybe for Danni Wyatt. The former played something of an Innings For the Ages to bring Western Storm home, in the final. It was controlled, it was powerful in every sense, it was classy. She hit three thrillingly-timed sixes as well as did the glueing-the-whole-effort-together thing. Magnificent and utterly vindicating, after a heavily challenging season – a season that might have buried plenty of  the rest.

Wyatt – voted Player of the Series in this last KSL – was again the dasher on the day with the bat, playing two hugely entertaining knocks. She also seemed to take about thirty catches in the deep, where again she looked to be playing at a simply higher level. She’s a gem, she’s a laff and she’s worth travelling to watch. Now… I travel home.

 

Final Curtains.

Going to be ‘liveblogging’ this baybee – i.e. updating throughout the day/night. So check in every hour or four?

 

I have no idea whether I will retain or continue to seek accreditation. (The latter is likely… but uncertain). If I do, and we continue to share our cricket psycho-cobblers, please do cuff me violently round my ample lugs, should I ever get complacent about stuff like this; the walk into and round to the front of the Edgbaston Media Centre – and that first look out.

9.30-odd, on a perfect September morn, with the Bungee Bouncee Thing springing joyfully in the background, and the ground quiet but for the daft footie and earnest netting and diligent marking-out, it’s a revelation, a privilege, a seminal, enduring pleasure: so hit me if I drift, friends – hit me.

The skyline is crisp and dry and leafy, actually. To the extent that the trees – proper woody, British, deciduous jobbers – *just may be* wading towards us. (This could be something to do with our elevated position – four storeys up – fetching or distorting the angles. Maybe I need to drop down into the stadium and get down and dirty with the punters and players?) Sold. I will.

10.07. Still deliciously pre- everything. About a thousand in the ground, some already indulging, rather guiltily: long day ahead. Nasser and Wardy and Trescothick (I think) mooching and pre-discussing the necessary telly-themes. Pods of elite athletes looking disconcertingly dweeby and uncoordinated around wilfully unhelpful footballs. Sunshine.

Lancs win the toss and will field against Worcester Rapids. Less bright. Did I mention I’m looking straight down the pitch… and I love that? Well I am. It’s fabulous.

10.47 and the first Sweet Caroline. Bumble down there miming wee snippets as the gathering crowd smile or bawl their way through. Bittafun, early-doors.

Lester opens up for Lancs. To Clarke. Then Moeen. Left arm over, quickish, fullish. Mo benefits from a poor misfield at extra – first 4. Dances down and clatters the next, straighter – 4 more. 9 from the over.

(#FirstWorldProblems; am trying to add an I’m At Edgbaston header pic on the blog: ‘s not having it).

Just me, or something slightly naff about that red, Lancs are sporting? Weirdly thin, washing-powder-ad stylee, for me. Second misfield gifts Mo another 1. Nerves.

Early change as Livingstone brings more pace, from our end. More nerves as he hoists an absolute shocker of a full-toss, which Ali dispatches. Follows that with a classical straight 6, then adds 4… three times! How much would we love it if Moeen went BIG, BIG? (Answer – a lot).

Balance slightly restored as Faulkner bowls Clarke to bring us to 37 for 1, in the 4th. Moeen’s got that soft hands and plenty of time thing going on, though – looking great.

Wow. Coach going apoplectic (I imagine) as a third misfield means four more through the covers. Conditions sensational – must be nerves distracting. 56 for 1 at the conclusion of the power play. Mooen on 38 from 17.

11.28, ground almost full. Shirtsleeves. Wonderful.

Less wonderfully, Moeen slightly chops across a straight drive to mid-off. Caught, on 41, when looking comfortable.

Immediately, Two Big Moments as D’Oliveira is run out and then Fell is stumped. From nowhere, having done very little right, Lancs are back in this as Rapids drop to 71 for 4 – inexplicably.

Parkinson gets one to turn best part of a foot, then bowls Whiteley for 4. Wow. 83 for 5 after 11.

Lovely to see a leggie really turn the erm, albino cherry. (Might copyright that). Still that sense that this has all *just happened*, though – i.e. that Rapids have been subjected to something profoundly mysterious – but credit the Lancs spinners, Khan and Parkinson, who are a genuine threat, here.

Clark, coming in with good energy, gets Mitchell lbw and Lightning are 97 for 6, in the 15th. Relatively deepish trouble, for Worcs?

Cox and Barnard growing into this but the innings has to explode, late on, you feel. 133 for 6 after 18.

Cox fires off with a lusty blow for 6 then a ver-ry cute reverse tickle for 4. Lester under pressure as the seamer is clouted for a further 6 over midwicket. Then again, more monstrously, into the same block but further up. Much jumping, clutching and hollering in the Hollies.

It’s Cox who tows the Rapids to 169 for 6 at the close: he has 55 not out. Can only feel (having seen Moeen cruise so majestically earlier) that this may be a tad light.

Longish chat with one of the Sussex backroom guys. He’s as deeply impressed with Dizzy G as the rest of us. Hugely generous; cool and wise; utterly trusting. The kind of bloke who *actually does* all the stuff other coaches talk about doing. I want Dizzy’s lot to win today.

Wood races in to Davies. Again, evidence that’s there’s something in this for the bowlers –  several inches of cut for the left arm quick. Can’t protect him from two late boundaries, mind: a decent first over yields 8.

In the 3rd, Davies is rather unnecessarily run out, following a misfield then a sharp throw. Lilley joins Livingstone and we are now 22 for 1.

Wood switches ends and is gallivanting towards us. He part paws, part chests-down a brutal drive from Lilley, and the trainer is on. Ultimately, no doubt sore, Wood continues.

The light – always sympathetic – switches back on up to 11. Mooen, from mid-off, doing lots of talking to his bowlers. And shuffling his field. It may be working because so far Lightning are non-thunderous.

The thing about T20 is you don’t write things like that. Because the very next ball gets absolutely smashed. 6. Coulda been 10. 44 for 1 after 5.

Cruel world. Young Brown *really puts it in there* for the Rapids, only for Lilley to unceremoniously (or worse – horribly) swat him past mid-off for 4. Next ball is similarly dispatched and the power play closes at 55 for 1.

Barnard has Livingstone caught at third man. Deserved that, the bowler, having defeated him the previous ball with a sly, slow one. Enter Buttler… and also Moeen, with the ball.

The talisman in blue – fifth bowler in the first 7 overs – traps Lilley in front with a ball that didn’t appear to deviate. Lots of love for Mo at the end of the over, with Lancs at 67 for 3 but now with Jennings and Buttler out there. Crucial period, surely?

I can confirm that Jennings is tall… and upright at the crease – although he gets lower or more dynamic or something as his innings develops.

Weird phase where both batsmen seem obsessed with reversing Moeen, to little effect. 78 for 3 after 10 – just behind the Rapids score – 92 needed. D’Oliveira becomes the 6th bowler for the 11th: again, some turn present. Both batsmen circumspect, so far.

OOf. Buttler scuffs-on, from Mo, for 12. With Jennings looking okaay but rather one-dimensional, the incoming Vilas may have to bring some boom. Game in the balance at 91 for 4, D’Oliveira finding his flow and more spin; enjoyable. We may owe the groundsman a pint for an excellent, supportive pitch.

Jennings accelerates. Two consecutive boundaries, off Mitchell. Still playing within himself but a prudent gear-change, I’d say.

Risky run again proves fatal. Vilas dives but goes and with Clark joining Jennings, Lightning need 10-plus per over. Should be fun, should be close.

Mo finishes with 2 for 16 off his 4 overs: which is outstanding, right? Brown will bowl the 17th. When Clark is run out, Faulkner comes in, with Buttler acting as runner: would he could swing that bat. Lancs will need 30 off the last 2.

Brown for the penultimate. Has Faulkner caught in the deep. 140 for 7 with Lester now in; swishes unconvincingly across the first.

Then the young paceman has his man, with a lovely, slower number, rolled out of the wrist. When Parkinson goes clouting skywards next ball… it feels done. Khan and Jennings must engineer 29 from Parnell’s last over.

Second ball disappears, bringing Jennings to his half-century but the next two stay on the island. It’s the Rapids’ game. Lancashire Lightning finish on 149 for 9. Bring on MAJOR FOOD, please… and the next one!

Wright and Salt will open for Sussex, facing Waller. 10 off the 1st, with Salt snaring 9 of them. The powerful-looking Taylor offers right-arm quick to follow but Salt connects to square leg – 4 more. He then steers rather loosely to mid-off and is gone, replaced by Evans, who steers Taylor neatly wide of that same fielder.

Wright takes on the incoming Overton. More than that, he carves him left and right – successive sixes. Evans is lbw then Rawlins skies one almost nowhere and Sharks are  74 for 3, with Wright on 34 off 20, come the end of the 8th. The sun is peeping then hiding just a little but as September days go… we’ll take it.

Friendly Geezer from Sussex Marketing saying they’ve inevitably received ‘some earache’ re- the controversial ticket-allocation for Finals Day: 500 seems an oddly low number. Explanation given was apparently that there was a fear that if the four clubs were allocated many more, then half the stadium may go after the semi’s. Get that but surely 1,000 or 1500 a better shout?

Meanwhile, Wright goes to 52, hauling Overton to leg. A spiteful beamer follows… which means a free hit… and a further 6 over long-on. 200-plus well and truly on, as the Sharks number 10 and captain struts into that Star-Player-In-Sumptuous-Mode phase. 141 for 3, off 13. Exciting stuff.

*Meanwhile*, chefs appear to be chasing pigs around The Hollies.

Wright may be 85 off 46 but Wiese is suddenly flying and purring, too. Smoothes Gregory into the highest tier over long-on, then drives through off. Irresistible. 220 entirely possible. Incredibly, could see more.

Wiese cushions Anderson for 1 to claim 50, then Wright is caught, booming to long-off, for a superb 92. The bowler has been going hard into the pitch, sometimes short, with two out on the on-side: three, in fact – two for cross-batted clubbing, plus a man at a long-on.

Taylor to Burgess, who wastes a few balls before being caught by an in-rushing deep midwicket with the score at 197. Archer goes for the dreaded GD and Jordan will join Wiese for Gregory, and the final over. Jordan sacrifices himself, meaning Beer will join us – appropriately. 200 up, 2 balls to come.

After an umpire review nails Wiese (run out), Sharks finish at 202 for 8 – great score, but Wright might be forgiven for thinking his lower-order colleagues underachieved by about 15. Whatever, Somerset must launch at this from pretty early on.

I watch the start of the reply from inside the Media Lounge, where you could sprawl – or do a 30 metre dash – should the urge take you.

Jimmy Anderson steals quietly past. Athers, bespectacled and studious with his broadsheet, is between me and the telly, such that he might be fearing my intense leering is for him. (Not so, Michael; I was trying to stay abreast of all things Archer and Millsy, honest). That and eating again, like a horse, like a man who remembers from last year that this is a very long day – I reiterate, a long day of privileges, mainly.

After the cheese and biccies (and 6 overs) Somerset are 45 for 3, with Hildreth on 14 and Abell on 3. (I am bloated and baggy-eyed, already – thanks for your concern).

Wiese takes the Most Embarrassing Catch Ever Ever, to eventually snaffle Hildreth’s looping edge and the Sussex Posse next to me are looking for the sign saying ‘Dreamland’. 53 for 4, Somerset.

Our friends in The Hollies are having fun, and quite right too. But they are also slinging balls onto the outfield every few minutes. Which is not that funny if you’re fielding… and wondering what’s underneath your ankles. Perhaps this is why the fella Abell clatters the ball violently into that particular stand?

85 for 4 at the halfway mark. The aforementioned Abell has just played two consecutive reverse-sweeps with two fielders placed precisely for that shot. Overthunk it, methinks.

Wiese puts down a relatively straight-forward chance when swooping like a gawky erm… gosling. My Sussex friends are telling me he’s not normally the Villager in the Field but it kinda goes on, as the poor fella bowls two very different but consecutive wides. Win or lose, he’ll be the bloke dropping his pint, later.

You feel Abell and Anderson may be a threat, and they set out, in the 13th, to prove that. The 100 comes up – 4 down. Mills is in for the next.

Archer contributes a clanger to the Somerset cause; the ball scooting beneath him to the point boundary.

The Cider-drinkers need  72 off the remaining 6 overs but Abell goes – a tad unfortunate to be run-out by a faint touch from Brigg’s fingers as the ball hurried past the bowler. That could be big.

It *could be* but Gregory, the skipper and one of the players of the tournament is in. Archer returns to greet him. The sky is somehow less deep, less full. It’s greyer.

Series of fine yorkers from Jordan: three optimistic appeals yield nothing but press home the Sharks advantage. Somerset need 20 an over from the last 3.

A slightly controversial no ball (for height) saves Gregory then offers him a free hit, off Archer but there’s no sense that the striking is remotely dynamic enough to make this close. Anderson is caught, for 48, last ball of the over, and Somerset need 50, off 2.

Jordan impressively cleans out Gregory with yet another yorker; Van der Merwe in – thankless, hopeless task.

Mills bowls the last, disturbing Overton’s off-stick third ball. Impressive but not perfect performance from Sussex yields a 35 run win. They will rest up for a bit – won’t we all – and charge in again at 6.45p.m. for a Mo versus Dizzy final. Ex-cellent.

I can now exclusively reveal that Jimmy Anderson likes a bitta sauce: was just pursuing some in the Media Lounge. Weirdly, didn’t recognise me. Congratulated him anyway, on his recent milestone.

In other news, I watched Dizzy chatting away with his guys during the break. Quietish, undemonstrative, mirrored a couple of batting strokes. No passionate urging or chest-pumping; almost as though he really trusts his team to make it happen.

Lights are on, for the final. They need to be. It’s going to be coolish, soonish, too. Luke Wood will bowl to Phil Salt. Drilled to mid-off; dot ball.

Two singles turned off the hip. Then Salt drills a beauty on the deck through extra-cover. 6 for 0. And Parnell.

Greeted by two extraordinary shots – Salt lifting him then slapping him straightish-offish for a pair of sixes. But hold… the daft bugger’s then run out, for not sliding the bat, when looking comfortably home! Great throw came in but that was village and the departing, cursing batsman knows it. A gift for the Rapids. 24 for 1 after the 3rd.

Wood changes ends. Has square leg back and a long on. Has that characteristic, slightly counterintuitive stroll back to his mark, walking wrong-side, as it were, – presumably to keep his approach straight(?) The trend for 1-over spells continues, with Parnell running in away from us.

Evans, then Wright remain undistracted: two sixes the result. 42 for 1 after 5.

Good spell, for Worcester – Barnard taking some pace off. Mo will reduce that velocity further as the dusk descends.

Evans has to respond and does: 6 over midwicket. But after 8, Sussex are at 56 for 1… and surely down by a few? Wright club-drives Brown before swinging him straight – for 4 on both occasions – before underlining the gear-change with a 6. Sharks countering, and Evans and Wright now ‘in’.

Ah. Except that Wright is OUT, having been bowled by Moeen, swinging too wildly, for 33. The lights have upped their game; they sting now, if you stare.

D’Oliveira finds some spin… but then the very middle of Rawlin’s bat – twice, for successive 6s. 93 for 2 after 11; feels more competitive.

Mitchell is in, with some slowish-medium. Have no issue with that. However I’m not sure we can forgive him his two wides, at that pace. (The second a shocker). Wood, following, is looking focused and somehow manfully quick. He sends one past Rawlins’ nose. 110 for 2, with 13 gone.

We then, dear friends, have a Technical Hitch, meaning I have to switch from ancient, inherited Mac, to medium dodgy ipad. Fingers crossed.

Things have progressed. Mo has finished with 3 for not-that-many, Evans is beyond 50 and the we’ve just had our umpteenth Umpire’s Review for a possible no ball around the waist. Sharks are 147 for 5, after 18.

Brown bowls the 19th: finishes with 0 for 15 off his 4 overs: good work. Sussex gonna have to bowl well, too but that’s their strong suit, arguably.

Parnell will slap it in there for the last. Archer carts the final delivery to the midwicket boundary, where the fielder takes an easy catch. 158 required for the win.

As we prepare to go again, take a look at the skyline. There’s barely a city there. Just us… and this stadium: magic. Archer prepares.

The lad looks interestingly disconsolate on his walk back. A decent over offers 5.

Could be dewy out there; two minor fielding errors. Mills bustles in – arms wrapped as per. Half The Hollies is doing a kind of comatose conga… at walking-pace.

Archer’s body-language is similarly low-key. The *actual bowling* is fine – 2 overs for 12 – but he has the look of a slightly moody teenager. 22 for 0 after 3.

Rapids, of course, don’t have to be that rapid. And they know that. Barely a swipe in anger, so far, and they’re still ahead of the run-rate. Moeen can afford to bring out his finest forward defence, to Jordan. He does.

Moeen does pick the slower one, mind, too – and heaves it over midwicket for 4. Follows that up with a slightly inside-out spooning over long-off and a further haul to leg. Advantage to Worcester after 5: 44 for 0 wicket.

Wiese is in to conclude the powerplay: it’s mixed, a poor ball down leg is rightly dismissed.

When Moeen thwacks Briggs high over midwicket, we approach crunchtime early, it seems. But the spinner has Clarke caught behind for 33 and when the incoming Fell drives Beer directly to extra-cover we find ourselves at 62 for 2, in the 8th. Briggs returns for the 9th.

*Things we maybe thought we might not say at The Cricket*: the Human League are going down well. Onwards.

D’Oliveira is stumped, off Briggs, for 10, but Moeen persists. Calmly easing through. I’m guessing 82% of the crowd is still with us.

From nowhere, Ali is gone – caught miscuing to long-off by a more than slightly jubilant Salt. Important, clearly, but Wiese’s fielding clanger a few balls later still hurts. A sort of intermittent, mid-range squeeze is on.

Whiteley breaks out with a powerful cuff to leg, off Beer. 104 for 4, off 14, with 54 needed: re-enter Jordan. Slower ones and yorkers – goodish. With the Big Guns back into this (Mills is next) this could be close. We want that, yes?

42 required, off 4. Sitting comfortably? (The Lads to my left aren’t: Sharks Media Posse). Archer is in.

Beautifully deft reverse from Cox finds the boundary. Then he drives for 4 over mid-off’s leap. Drama cranks up as a HUGE no-ball call goes against Whiteley. 127 for 5, meaning 31 needed off 3.

Jordan has changed ends. Dot ball. Full-toss to leg for 4. Tangle-almost-played-on thing. Scurry-through with no contact. Straight 6! *Possible misjudgement in the field(?)*  Over over… and 141 for 5 on the board.

Ultimately, The Golden Boy bottles it! Archer flings a horrendous beamer past Cox’s left ear and waaay past the keeper! The free hit is likewise dispatched. The follow-up likewise. Cox is pipping… everybody! (Gets coat). Tremendous, nerveless effort to bring his side home – as he did in the semi.

So Moeen – our Moeen – will be collecting the trophy. I can feel the universe smiling. Fabulous finish.

 

Morning after. Was too exhausted last night to properly big up a) Edgbaston and all who sail and steer in that crazy-wonderful boat – thank you for your generous hospitality b) that bloke Cox. Stunning, extended, dramatic, luxurious day of sport you gave us. Bravo!

 

Measuring the Moment.

Finals Day. For some, an exemplar of the modern, dynamic game we’re searching for – what with heaving, happy crowds and boomtastically lusty action. For others, including (weirdly counter-intuitively?) the ECB, a still slightly undercooked version of the spectacularly box-ticking ideal. For other others a kind of Nightmare on Lowest Common Denominator Street.

Muggins here was at Edgbaston, having received wider ECB Media Accreditation for the first time. I was both swanning around and working but did make the occasional effort to tear myself away from the outstanding hospitality/catering/Media Bubble to get down and dirty with you plebs.

Of course I didn’t do anything quite so undignified as to break out into song, or drink from a shoe, or do that bungee-rocket-jump thing but I did, yaknow, contemplate stuff.

Mainly I watched the cricket, enjoying the following in no particular order;

Pollock – for finding a zone of near-obscene brilliance (see previous blog) which separated the Bears from Glamorgan. My memory, which I admit may not coincide entirely with the stats, suggesting his hitting was simply more devastating than anybody else’s all day.

At the other end of a long, intermittently intense day I quietly hailed another triumph – and somehow they all feel personal? – for Peter Moore, the Real Good Bloke Who Rode Disappointment. The Notts coach again might be tempted to fistpump the mirror and tell Ingerland Crickit to go eff itself. (He won’t… because apparently he really is a RGB and he just doesn’t need to: he just keeps working to a fine, fine level).

Sodhi, who span the ball as well as splatting it swiftly down, also caught my eye. Having watched from directly behind his arm, I can tell you that yes he did mix things up – T20 needs must – but also he really did succeed in spinning/turning the ball. Entirely get that the spin-bowler’s short-format repertoire cannot afford to focus more than about 12% on that sideways movement but yup – enjoyed that.

Enjoyed Taylor’s knock in the final, too. Despite having aired my concerns on twitter re- his steady progress towards thirty-odd, it was a pleasure to see his craft cut against the expectation for relentless violence. Taylor played a lot of proper cricket shots, only unleashing the beast later on in proceedings, when the situation (finally) did demand it. I rated his measurement of the moment – it was (as they say) class.

Lots of fuss over Samit so I won’t go there. Clearly the guy’s a player but have previously gone on record to say I’m cool with an international coach, or international coaches as a breed demanding high standards of athleticism, in the modern era.

On the fast bowling front I admired much of what Stone did, plus Ball and Gurney with their spidery strafing-from-Mars thing. Woakes, though, was a thing of beauty, when fired-up.

But the story should maybe about Edgbaston… and about the future. Which is where (I don’t mind telling you) I come over all conflicted.

Plainly Finals Day was a striking, all-singing, most boozing success in the modern way. Clearly Edgbaston does an ace job of this. It was colourful, it hosted, it showed-off, it surfed the excess most excellently. The job was absolutely done in terms of an orgasmic, short-format Big Day Out. (Oh, and lots of the cricket was great too – I mean that). So… that other competition; what’s it for, again?

T20 Blast has got better every year and seems on an upward curve in every respect. Accept there are those who claim it’s a significant notch down from the IPL and  Big Bash in terms of playing quality but that gap has closed. Besides, nobody at Edgbaston was complaining. There is a ver-ry strong argument that building, year by year on the Blast’s positives rather than introducing a rival competition makes perfect sense. As we know, that ain’t gonna happen.

I’m slightly fascinated by the ECB’s moves, here. The chosen option, to create an ultimately higher-class, city-based tournament which more successfully bursts or expands the bubble of traditional cricket supporters is a strikingingly ambitious choice, given what we have – what Blast has become.

Based around masses of research, driven in some meaningful part by Australian experiences and expertise, aimed at transforming levels of visibility of the game and joined up with the huge All Stars and Cricket Unleashed projects this is an epic call. Radical; romantically bold; risky.

The ECB are backing it, though, unless something extraordinary happens(?) They’ve found, as All Stars has recently demonstrated, an unlikely bundle of courage and commitment to change the scenery drastically. This is on the one hand rather exciting.

However the general experience of Edgbaston – my experience, the deliriously fabulous experience of many in the crowd, Saturday – challenges the notion of whether another 20-20 is at all necessary. Blast is becoming that good… and seems likely to tick many of the required boxes in good time… and offers no threat to County Cricket. It offers or can offer the gateway to wider exposure and new customer bases that the ECB understandably craves. So why tinker?

It’s a huge call.

It wasn’t just the Hollies Stand that was rocking on Saturday. As I enjoyed my luxury miniature dessert, the whole of Edgbaston was giving it some.

Word on’ tinternet and beyond has been of a longterm agreement to tie #T20Blast to Brum and good luck to them. Most of what we saw would escape funding from the Arts Council but it was great, relatively inoffensive fun. Easy to be cynical about the attention-seeking antics of a certain former England all-rounder in particular but people laughed and joined in and participated in the cricket. Bumble and Freddie were part of the rockin’ whole.

Blast has become a popular success and therein lies a problem, of sorts, for the ECB. We all know really that two UK 20-20s is one too many – the market’s getting crowded, increasingly so. When withdrawing your hottest, sexiest, bravest plan ever ever feels unthinkable and the expendable prototype turns out better than you thought…. what, exactly, do you do? Glad it’s not my shout.

 

 

Obscene Brilliance.

The Epi-prologue.

I travelled in hope and some expectation. Carrying some real belief in the men from Wales… and okaay, South Africa. I’ve seen plenty of this #t20blast, enough to know that *on their day* Crofty’s Posse could compete – underdogs or no.

They have most bases covered –  from youthful dynamism to crafty-oldish-meisterhands. They’ve been on a slightly under-the-radar surge, appreciated by dispassionate observers as well as foaming Cardiffians. 

Glammy have targeted this event over months if not years and gathered, astutely, towards it. Hugh Morris and Robert Croft deserve credit for that. Glamorgan Cricket have had to tiptoe throught the financial and provincial and cultural minefields to a) stay relevant and b) stay afloat. Today helps. It helps to support both the big signings – Ingram, De Lange – and the bringing through of the Donalds and the Carlsons. Hey, and without Pollock’s obscene brilliance and Rudolph’s freakish run-out who knows, who knows?

But they got beat; that’s sport. The Glammy players and the Glammy fans know they got close to something. Croft and Morris’s job now to rally again. 

 

Great, dark then stirring run through to alien territory, by misty rivers, through leafy, autumnal lushness. West Wales night-dawn lifting with foxes screaming then owls hooting then – ping! – the hyper-reality of Big Brum, in spectacular sunshine, at nine a.m. Wow.

I fraudulently seamlessly wend my way to The Ground, being sickeningly friendly to all and sundry. Because… well, this is a Big Day Out. For me, for Glammy.

But is there a whiff of the interloper there? The undeserving, the outsider? Probably. Me and Glammy together as the Guys Who Got Past Security?

In the case of the welsh county this is cobblers. They are unquestionably here on merit.  They are well-balanced, they are equipped, they may yet spring a magnificent surprise. Maybe I will too? (A streak? A great blog?) Onward, post-haste.

Players are out, warming up.  10.35. Rudolph wins the toss and will bowl. 10.37 meet George Dobell, who’s been ludicrously generous re my scribblings. Absently wonder – not mid-conversation, obviously – if I should squeeze more food down (luxury buffet upstairs, free to us Elite Media Sorts) cos, well, 5am start & could be a late finish: feed up.

News is Carlson in. Shame TVG unfit for Glammy – do like his bustle and focus – but as Rob Key said Glamorgan do look balanced. They have changes of pace, they have batting.

What we can’t know is whether they have the bottle or depth for this. They have quality and experience but this will feel kinda new; as a group they haven’t been here. We’re on that fabulous edge.

Goes without saying that Ingram is truly world-class in this format and that Rudolph has begun to show some of the real quality that might turn things or be the platform. Hogan too, for me, has looked cool, mature, ready for the tightest of moments – the death(s). Whilst I’m a huge fan and supporter of Donald (and De Lange is beginning to court, rather persuasively, my affections) it’s these three who feel most central to Glamorgan’s chances.

Formalities done, Ingram to bowl. Second ball, ‘ambitious appeal’, third ball six(!) We have officially woken. Pollock booms ten off the over. Then Hogan.

Sharpish first ball. Beats Pollock close to off. The left-hander responds with another six, clubbed straight. Then one over mid-on. Could be big numbers today, you sense. 24 for 0 off 2.

Weirdly, the umps are asked to examine the shape of the circle, before De Lange stoops then launches in.

Pollock simply dismisses the lanky South African for another six, then a crisp, straight four. And another – pulled. This is some start. Glammy have to gather. Rudolph and Hogan need to calm the energy: The Bears are 40 for 0 off 3.

Enter Wagg, grateful for a stunning stop at backward point from Salter. But Pollock is already looking unplayable. First sarcastic roar from a famously roartastic crowd as De Lange fails to field a squirt towards third man. Pollock has 47 and his partner, Sibley 2. Just seen Legside Lizzy.

Hogan changes ends. Sibley (have we met?) finally connects – four over extra cover. Hogan searching for the blockhole; doing okay but can’t stop Pollock racing to 50 off 23. Nobody could, today. Almost alarming for the visitors; can they hold… or can Ingram simply outbiff Pollock?

De Lange no-balls, offering Pollock a free hit – escapes. Finally some relief as the batsman cuts straight to Carlson at cover. 65 for 1 off as the powerplay closes.

Meschede. Blockhole. Donald takes an easy catch at deep-midwicket. Can Glammy calm the torrent?

Ingram from the other end. The energy’s changed – in a good way for the visitors. Pollock seems a lifetime ago, a different event. It’s quiet, briefly. Great, stalling over of legspin from Ingram. 74 for 2 off 8. Meschede continues.

Decent wee spell for Glamorgan. Ingram, now charged with producing more of this canny stuff; largely succeeds, gets Sibley, caught Donald. 88 for 3. Game’s evolving. 92 for 3 at the halfway stage.

Meschede in again. Been average, for me, lately but working nicely enough now – pace off a tad, ver-ry full, straight. Rewarded, getting Hain LB. (Has the game really changed?) Crowd quietened, certainly.

Did I say the Bears are slowed? Mood deliciously different. 95 for 4 off 11. Salter in.

First ball driven through extra cover. No further dramas.

Meschede continues; excellent spell given the pressure. The optimist in me dallies with the prospect that the aforementioned balance, that spread of bowling qualities may be bringing Croft’s men back into this. As Ingram returns, you feel the Bears must go after him.

Brief panorama. Described as a sell-out and the ground looks resplendently full; great scene.

Ingram again holds, before Wagg returns, bowls a foot outside off but is tweaked crazily round the corner to backward square leg: ludicrous four… but it’s a batsman’s game, right? Wagg being slightly found out, which could be important.

Score-wise, 200 feels possible, if somebody in any way re-Pollocks. 129 for 4 off 14. Hogan switches again for the fifteenth. I’m thinking Ingram might explode here… and might need to.

Unusually, Hogan strays near leg and is clipped fine, behind, for four. The sunshine floods through again. Magic day to bat. COME ON, Ingram!

Elliot comes over all daft and is caught, embarrassed at short fine leg. 139 for 5. Then another sign of Bears nerves as a slack skier falls safely.

Mixed stuff, however, from De Lange – over-full and fortunate not to get heavily punished. Searching for the blockhole, slinging it in there but mixed. Then better. 145 for 5 off 17.

Wagg. Has been struggling to make an impact so the 18th feels key. Strikes me nobody but Pollock has bossed the Glammy attack so maybe the Big Score that’s looming is merely a par?

A wide wide again indicates it’s just not coming out right for Wagg. Even when he bowls a good ‘un it squirts past fine leg for four. The fella looks hunted.

The 19th starts well, with De Lange. Quick and hostile and challenging. De Grandhomme hooks to Donald. 6 down, enter Woakes. Great over leaves Bears on 169 for 6. Hogan will finish. Like the way Glamorgan have competed, here.

Last over. Thomason run out then Patel caught long on, first ball. Helpful. Last ball runout leaves Bears on 175 for 9… and who knows what that means?

The reply; Woakes to Rudolph. Great first ball. Shafts the skipper, feeling outside off. Donald; hearts going for the lad. Lifts the England bowler over extra cover for four! You beauty!

As so often though, the young opener maybe gets too greedy too early; second ball, caught at deep square leg. On the plus side, this brings in Ingram. #KIngram.

Glammy’s gloriously gifted number three eases Woakes through extra cover too  – four. Then bullets him there. First time I hear the Glam faithful. 13 for – off 1.

Patel in. Goes deep into the crease, at the legs. Ingram patient – two Proteas together. Successive fours for Ingram – more from the welsh faithful. Goodish start, now.

Woakes. Timing of both Rudolph and Ingram looking good. They look settled and quietly determined. (*Fatal*). 30 for 1 off 3 is okaaay.

Ingram takes time and heat out of the affair with a longish faff over his laces. (Or possibly his laces just need doing up?) Then a stunning catch on the retreat claims Glammy’s most irresistible source and Rudolph nearly departs caught behind next ball… but survives. Tense, critical period. (Ingram simply didn’t get enough on a drive to leg. *Moment*. Obvs).

Rudolph softly opens the blade for four to third man – a welcome boundary.

Thomason to Miller: caught behind.  This is a worry. 39 for 3.

Huge moment for the incoming, inexperienced Carlson, with the Bears veering towards the rampant. Am liking, however, the guile of Rudolph: impressively skilled hands under tremendous pressure. 46 for 3 off 5. He has 29 off 16, at this point.

Stone meanwhile, looks good – searching. Rudolph guides him, Carlson can’t cope with his bounce, though – nicks behind for 3. Trouble, at 48 for 4, powerplay done. Cooke may need to stick around with the skipper.

Rudolph benefits from some woeful fielding at deep extra cover; four, Thomason unimpressed. Then Cooke glances behind for another boundary. No fireworks but decent, timely re-building.

Patel returns. Suspect Rudolph will settle for runs as opposed to violence and risk; he rightly does. Good over nevertheless for Patel: 60 for 4 off 8.

Important, emphatic four for Cooke, off Elliot, through mid-off. Confidence-settler, if not builder. The sun breaks powerfully through once more.

But not for Cooke. He chips weakly, deflatingly, to deepish midwicket. Enter Wagg, with things close to deadly at 67 for 5.

First six for Glam comes via Rudolph, off Patel. 76 for 5 off 10 – Bears were 92 for 3. Run-rate very close to 10, so tough but do-able, if Wagg and Rudolph persist. Maybe?

Key fifty for Rudolph but he knows he may need to double that up. 83 for 5. Wagg feeling for it – must surely park the wilder ambitions and hand this over to the skipper?

Instead he smashes one many rows back over long on. Some great running and solid thinking from the batsmen are keeping this alive. 100 up off 12.3.

Another beauty from Rudolph flipped over his right shoulder for four. We do have a game here – particularly as Glamorgan’s fielding was sharper than the Bears. Hope yet, with the potential for this to go deep – if Rudolph remains, carving and cutting.

Maybe I’m underestimating Wagg. He drills one straight for four, off Patel. For his trouble, the ump tells him to watch his running down the pitch. No matter, the maths and the mood still suggest Glam are in it…

Until(?) Rudolph is brilliantly run-out – cruelly brilliantly run-out – by the bowler Thomason, gathering from Wagg. Meschede joins. 118 for 6 after 15. 59 needed.

Woakes has changed ends. Wagg slaps him straight to mid-off and you feel Glammy are done.

My Pembrokeshire mate Andrew Salter enters the fray. Facing Chris Woakes, on #FinalsDay, he may feel a long way from St Ishmaels. (He flips him for four, mind, to backward square).

Thomason gifts Glammy a wide, first up in the 17th. With the run-rate over 12, Meschede booms one straightish but only as far as the fielder – gone. De Lange and Salter need to do something pret-ty extraordinary.

The big South African quick carts Thomason for four and we’re 133 for 8 off 18. Over to De Grandhomme.

He finds the blockhole beautifully, killingly. Glam are done. De Lange smashes a highish full-toss for six but we’re at 144 for 8 off 18.

The impressive Stone returns. Salter rides his luck – Elliott failing to take a regulation catch – but then De Lange is castled. 150 for 9. Woakes will bowl the last.

Some wonderful defiance from Salter, inevitably in vain. Glamorgan fall to 164 all out. The difference? Pollock. Pollock and maybe Stone.

The sun and the scene are fabulous. I am lucky to be here. The ‘what ifs’ are already rumbling through  – chiefly what if Rudolph had somehow stayed? (That run-out was almost shockingly, freakishly brilliant). What if Ingram had…

There are no complaints. The day is spookily young. For many Glammy fans there is cricket to be enjoyed, beer to be swilled. Brave face time – time to appreciate. Thank you, Glamorgan, for another tremendous ride. Heads high.