Somerset and I: Tom Abell
As Taunton as they come
Over the summer, a star-studded line up with be joining Cider Press to lift the lid on what pulling on a Somerset shirt means to them. To start? Tom Abell. It had to be.
I love Somerset. It is that simple. Because really, you see, I’m just a fan. And I’m desperate to see the club succeed – all of us are. There’s no worse feeling for us as a playing group than not quite achieving what we set out to do.
But on the flip side, those difficult moments, the tricky or disappointing ones, make us appreciate the good times that little bit more. Whenever we are successful, that connection, that feeling of being interlinked with everyone associated with Somerset cricket, intensifies.
It’s been present for me since I was very young. As a child, I was gifted a membership most summers – we were called Junior Sabres back then. My earliest memories are heading down to the ground after school, with my brothers and my dad, to catch the last hour of the evening. I was in awe, excitable even, every time I passed through the gates. The place looked very different back then, by the way!
We didn’t have a regular spot to sit, but my brothers and I would loiter underneath the Colin Atkinson Pavilion – the dressing rooms were there at that point - hunting autographs.
That Class of 2001, people like Jamie Cox, Tres and Keith Parsons, inspired me. I was at Lord’s with my family for the C&G Trophy Final win over Leicestershire that summer. Soon after, a young Hildy came along. Wow.
I’ve proudly been pulling on a Somerset shirt since I was 10. I’m extremely fortunate in that respect. I had various coaches - people like Dave Beale, Pete Sanderson, and Dan Hodges – but from about the age of 12, I spent a lot of time with Greg Kennis. I still lean on him a lot now.
The doubt and insecurities that go hand-in-hand with cricket remain very much prevalent for me. I was quite small as a kid, and I was pre-occupied with my size and ability to hit the ball through the field. If I’m honest, I found runs really hard to come by. Looking back, I don’t think I really justified my position in the age-group squads.
But things changed a little for me when I reached 16, and we started to play a format that allowed me to bat for longer periods. Two day games with Somerset under-17s? Perfect.
I don’t think anyone would have believed me if I’d said back then I’d be lucky enough to spend winters playing T20 around the world. I absolutely wouldn’t have!
My 2nd XI debut was a bit of a whirlwind, and I’m glad I didn’t have much time to think about it. It was 2010, and I filled in for Robin Lett on the last day of a 3-day game against Kent, lining up alongside the likes of Nick Compton, Arul Suppiah and Devon Conway.
I felt completely out of place and overawed, but they all made me feel incredibly welcome. It was a bit of a thriller, with us chasing 240 to win. I came in at 6 and, while I only made 17, I was pretty chuffed.
Adam Dibble also played in that game. He was a few years older than me at Taunton School and was someone I really looked up to, a mentor if you like.
Then I got a taste of being with the 1st XI down at Hampshire. I certainly wasn’t close to playing but I was 12th man for a white-ball game. I remember it vividly: the Sky cameras were there; they had the Toblerone boundary; they had all the music. The occasion felt huge. That was the moment where I felt like maybe this – professional cricket, that is - was a realistic possibility for me. “Hopefully, one day, I might get my opportunity,” I thought.
That opportunity came in a County Championship game against Warwickshire in August 2014. That it was at Taunton made it perfect. Alviro Peterson was flying over, but wasn’t quite going to make it on time. I’d been doing pretty well in the 2s, and Dave Nosworthy gave me the nod a few days before.
You can never prepare for that moment. Excitement, pride, it all rolled into one. My nerves were completely heightened when Johann Myburgh lost his wicket. It was about 15 minutes before lunch, so my mindset was clear: I just wanted to get through to the break. I squirted a couple away to third-man and that settled me a bit.
We were a little bit behind in that game, losing wickets, and I just wanted to dig in. I managed to stick around for a little bit which was nice. It all went south for us in the second innings, though! And the rest, as they say, is history.
For the last seven summers, I’ve had the privilege of captaining the red-ball team. Reflecting on it now, I can’t help but smile at some of the incredible highs we experienced together. I was very fortunate to have been part of some great teams, with some great players. That made my job an awful lot easier.
But there were plenty of tough times, too. Captaincy is all consuming. The work on the pitch is just a very small part of the role, and there is so much that goes unseen. I’ve lived and breathed it.
The hardest part for me was selection. We’re such a tight knit group at Somerset, and so leaving close friends out of the team was agonising. I’m not afraid to admit that it took its toll over the years, and I felt the time was right to make a change, both for myself and, more importantly, for the group.
Personally, I want to focus on getting back to being the best batter I can be and scoring runs for the team. There were times last summer when I wasn’t necessarily happy with where my game was at, but my attention was on the squad.
And it was also something that needed to happen for our group. There’s been a lot of talk about how red-ball cricket should be played moving forward, and we discussed that over the winter. I felt a change in leadership was going to be helpful. It was the right time for a slight shift of direction, a new perspective, a fresh energy. Lewwy has certainly brought that to our group. It’s been brilliant to see how the boys have started the County Championship this summer, and I’m buzzing to get out there with them.
I can’t describe in words what playing for Somerset, for you all, means to me. It’s incredibly special. I’ve really missed it these last couple of months.
There are so many moments in my career that have sent shivers down my spine, and that feeling never gets old. In some ways, there is always relief when I get a few runs - it means I haven’t let you down.
The thing that has always stood out for me since I started is the cheer that accompanies a decent shot. Even today that still makes me feel 10-feet tall. As a young player, you’re looking for every bit of confidence and that support gave me belief.
Every century is special, and scoring one at Taunton adds a further layer of joy.
But there is little better than coming out on top in a close County Championship game, though. The ebbs. The flows. Those are my favourite to be a part of. They really take it out of me mentally, so to finally get over the line, to sit in the changing room afterwards with my mates, feels immensely satisfying. Some of the tight red-ball victories – ones over Durham and Warwickshire spring to mind - will live with me forever.
But last year’s T20 Final – and I know that is a cop out choice – will always be right up there. Just the nature of how it happened, and the disappointments that had come before it.
Out in the middle there were numerous times where I was thinking “hang on, they’re a boundary away from winning the game”. But then we were always only one wicket away. The whole match was played on a knife-edge.
When Ish (Sodhi) was bowling at Paul Walter with a small boundary, a six would have taken Essex under a run-a-ball. Thankfully he got him out! Daniel Sams was playing so well, too, but then we got that final wicket. It was an incredible catch from Pepsi.
I might be primarily a batter, but the best feeling without doubt is taking wickets as a team. And that particular strike, that single moment, trumps any other purely because of the realisation that we’d won the tournament. Getting over the line in a competition is an unrivalled feeling. Ultimate happiness. Here is to many more of those!
Tom Abell