Somerset & I: James Hildreth
"I know that deep down that I’ll never beat that feeling, that buzz. I’ll no doubt chase it for the rest of my life, but it can’t be replicated."
Sometimes cited as the greatest county batsman of the modern era never to have been offered an opportunity in an England shirt, James Hildreth would feature for Somerset on 715 occasions. He stands alone at the top of the list of appearances for the county and finished a sterling career as one of the most prominent figures as the side pushed hard to break the hoodoo of a first Championship. Neither that nor an international call-up would ever materialise, but, for the best part of twenty years, he would delight Taunton crowds with his elegant stroke-making through the off-side and his consistent returns. This is his story.
As much as it pains me to say this, thank God for Peter Trego! Why? Well, because my 2nd XI chance came about, at least in part, because of him. I was a 17-year-old and there was a game up at Knowle & Dorridge againt Warwickshire. Tregs got a rapid 150 before scuttling off to play for the first team against the West Indies ‘A’.
So out I went to field. It was quite a stint, with both Trevor Penney and Jonathan Trott scoring double hundreds. But that was my first taste of playing serious cricket for Somerset.
Although I feel like a local boy, I’m actually from Stony Stratford. My family lived just up the road from the sports club, but my parents, who were sporty, saw an advert for Millfield. We drove up to have a look and I ended up boarding which was very tough as a 10-year-old. There were no iPads or mobiles back then: all we got was 15 minute phone call home midweek and half-an-hour at the weekend.
Anyway, my first-team debut came the summer after I finished my A-Levels. Somerset were a bit all over the shop, and the place was not particularly happy. But timing-wise, as a youngster trying to break in, it was perfect.
Then at the back end of the 2003 summer, with the club ailing in the bottom-tier, they chucked me in for a red-ball game against Derbyshire. Kevin Shine wanted to give a few youngsters a chance, I think. I didn’t get many, but Ian Blackwell made 247 not out.
The following April, John Francis was injured, and someone must have said “let’s get Hildy.” I knew this was my chance. With the club really struggling in four-day cricket, and the team unsettled, I knew that if I did alright, I’d get a run in the side.
You're this kind of new, exciting, young lad who brings some energy to the group. I was a cheeky chappy back then, a bit of a free spirit. The coaches probably thought I was a nightmare. But I just felt like I was doing it my way. Very laid-back, fearless if you like, which was perfect for the situation.
The first match that summer was against Durham. They had Shoaib Akhtar – the quickest bowler in the world. And all I’m thinking is ‘I’ve seen him on TV and rapid. Now I want to see what that pace is like, how it feels.’
It was a flat wicket that day and it came off for me. I had Jamie Cox – who I am delighted is now back at Taunton as CEO - batting with me talking me through it. I’d never faced anything like it, and I absolutely loved it. There was no pressure on me – people didn’t expect anything. That was my first Somerset hundred. Fortunately, I managed to get a few more, and I know that deep down that I’ll never beat that feeling, that buzz. I’ll no doubt chase it for the rest of my life, but it can’t be replicated.
In 2005, we won the T20 title at the Oval. Most folk don’t remember that I actually bowled a lot that year! The format was in its infancy at professional level and people quickly realised that you didn’t need to bowl express pace to take wickets. If you had changeups, a slower ball, a cutter, some back of the hand stuff – a bit like Ian Harvey, and I’m in no way comparing myself to him! – with the keeper up, you could be really effective. And a few filthy drag-downs could always be relied on for a wicket or two.
For some reason that year it came off. It was a bit bizarre. We had the likes of Andy Caddick, Richard Johnson, Charl Langeveldt, Blackie – and I’m wondering ‘why am I bowling here?’ But Graeme Smith was keen for it. He liked it. Sadly, it all stopped when Justin Langer arrived and, quite rightly, concluded that I was a useless bowler.
I doubt I’m the first to tell you this, but JL’s impact, both on me and on the club, really was seismic. Pre-JL, I was lazy in how I went about my training. I relied on my hand-eye coordination and had this unshakeable belief that I would make it. But, with him and Andy Hurry, it was all about work ethic - let’s be the fittest, let's eat well, let's lose weight, let's just do everything we can.
Was it enjoyable? Not necessarily, but it was eye-opening. It showed me how I needed to operate to be consistently successful at the top level.
The whole squad had to change rapidly. If you didn't adapt to that environment, they sacked you. It was game-changing for the club because we went from bottom of the second division in 2007 to competing in the top-tier and reaching white-ball finals within a couple of years.
I know there was talk throughout my career about whether I’d leave, perhaps to return home, or because I needed to play elsewhere if I wanted a Test cap.
But Somerset were always brilliant with me, both contractually and in how they managed me. I adored being there – it was my home from home - and so I never really gave myself the opportunity to leave because, whenever my contract was expiring, I signed new deals early in the summer.
A few teams tried to woo me, but I took that as a compliment, an inevitable by-product of being amongst the leading run-scorers in the country. Leaving was never on my mind. Never. I just wanted to bring the Championship to Taunton. And anyway, the idea that being at Somerset is a barrier to playing for England simply isn’t true - plenty of my teammates got the nod.
We didn’t quite win that Championship, but I have some wonderful memories. It started with living in the flats at the ground with the likes of Gareth Andrew, Neil Edwards, Arul Suppiah, and Tom Webley. We were 18-year-olds living in the town centre, getting paid peanuts but without any bills. We really enjoyed ourselves. Those first few years, when I was in and out of the first team trying to find my way, were some of my happiest memories. They were great times, really simple times.
And there were also the moments where people like Craig Kieswetter, Jos Buttler and Nick Compton received their England call-ups. To be there when the phone rang and to see their faces afterwards was special. It was a privilege to be there to witness the highlights of the careers of friends. I’ll always treasure sharing in those seconds.
The cherry on top of it all came at Lord’s. Tregs and I – who had probably lost about thirty finals between us! – realised we were going to do it just before the win, and to walk off that famous outfield with him, knowing what it meant to both of us, but also to everyone in the wider community in Somerset, was truly extraordinary.
I pondered my retirement hard. I could have probably gone on another season or two, but it was the right time for me to walk away. Playing for Somerset for nearly two decades was a privilege and I wanted to be able to return as a fan and enjoy watching Somerset win. I didn’t want to be thinking ‘I hope they lose’ because I’d been essentially sacked.
I’d worked for the same employer for 20 years and they’d been great to me. I didn’t want to leave but the club is much bigger than I am. I didn’t want any negative emotions or baggage around Somerset. I just want them to win every trophy they can and be at the top table of domestic cricket.
I feel like now I can go back anytime, enjoy a coffee or a beer, chat to some people, watch some cricket and want the best for Somerset. The club will always be in my heart. If you see me down at Taunton, please do say hello. I’d love to talk cricket with all of you!
James Hildreth
 |
|