Middlesex take the slow train to success

Lancashire 102 for 5 (Roland-Jones 4-29) trail Middlesex 327 (Robson 77, Gubbins 69, Compton 56, Kerrigan 4-80, Jarvis 3-70) by 225 runsScorecard

As Roald Dahl suggested, tales of the unexpected come in many forms. Behind the mundane, lurk both the remarkable and the macabre. One of the domestic game’s oddities is that Middlesex, a well-resourced club, have not won the County Championship since 1993; another is that Somerset did not win the title when they boasted some of the best cricketers in the world.

At lunchtime in this game, when Middlesex had been bowled out for 327, it seemed that Somerset’s chances were improving with every run they scored in Leeds. Barely an hour later, though, James Franklin’s men were jubilant as they reduced Lancashire to 32 for 5 before some stubborn resistance from the home side left them on 102 without further loss at the close.

Yet this was still a fine afternoon for Middlesex and they have two days to confirm their superiority and collect the 22 points that might leave them the length of a seaxe from glory. Somerset end a day of wonderful fluctuation needing to seal their win over Yorkshire and pray that Lancashire are stirred to break their habit of being relegated every other year.

Some supporters at Old Trafford are reconciled to such biennial disappointment. So it was difficult to know whether Lancashire supporters travelling to Old Trafford from Wigan or Westhoughton for a 10.30 start on the second day of this game were more surprised to get a seat on the early train or to see their bowlers take seven wickets in a session. Probably the former.

After all, it seemed unlikely that Steven Croft’s bowlers would be as ineffective or their fielding as fatigued as it had been on the first day. For them to those wickets for 65 runs in 27 overs during a slightly extended morning session was within possibility’s bounds; especially so once Tom Bailey and Kyle Jarvis had removed three recognised batsmen wickets in the first ten overs with a ball that was still quite new.

On the other hand, some of the morning trains from the west are so crowded and their progress so pedestrian that any suggestion of comfort is greeted with astonishment. Indeed, the locomotive has been christened “the Parbold Flyer” by commuters whose capacity for irony seems only to have been sharpened by the sensory delights of close proximity to their fellow passengers. Other despondent travellers are more choleric: Gathurst, Wigan Wallgate, …

continue reading in source www.espncricinfo.com