Vic's ReMarks

Pre-season preparation

In the first of a regular series of columns, Somerset legend Vic Marks looks back on pre-season preparations of years gone by.

Somerset’s carefully crafted pre-season’s plans have been obliterated and the same applies for many of the counties. Recently the Middle East has become a popular destination for our county cricketers to prepare for the new season with the promise of sunshine, fine facilities and grass pitches.

However, Somerset’s trip to Abu Dhabi had to be abandoned. It was obviously out of the question. Plan B is underway and the men’s squad is now at Desert Springs in Spain, albeit for a briefer training camp abroad.

It has become standard practice for the squad to travel miles from Taunton for their pre-season preparation, quite a contrast to what happened when I first clocked in as a professional cricketer.

Then we might travel as far as Wellington, where there was a handy sports centre or Street, where we could use the indoor facilities of Millfield School.

Half a century later - can it really be that long ago? - the plans are a little more sophisticated.

In those days we all reported for duty - from whatever our winter employment was - on April 1st.

In 1974 Somerset’s first fixture was a one day match at Swansea on April 27th when an unknown Antiguan, Vivian Richards, immediately demonstrated his unlimited potential while cracking an unbeaten 81.

“You’ll do for me, lad”, noted captain Brian Close. In that season Somerset’s first Championship match began on May 8th at Taunton. In 2026 the first game - against Nottinghamshire in the Championship (and we’re counting down the days) - starts on April 3rd.

Yes, the climate is changing but by that much?

I remember the excitement of heading for the County Ground for my first day as a novice professional (alongside fellow newcomers, Richards, Ian Botham, Peter Roebuck, Phil Slocombe and John Hook) in 1974.

I couldn’t wait to get started. However, this enthusiasm was doused a little upon arrival. It was cold and it was raining. We huddled around the old gas fire in the main dressing room, where I soon realised that there were important matters to discuss, which had little to do with the forthcoming campaign on the field.

“This petrol money is bloody diabolical”, said Merv Kitchen, “and you couldn’t feed a mouse on our meal money”. Dear Merv, one of the senior pros, a gutsy, selfless batsman from Nailsea, who would also become a fine international umpire, was right and he was not one to hesitate airing his grievances.

A delegation had to be sent to the secretary to start negotiations. Once this debate had come to a conclusion and the rain had stopped we did something that would be familiar to the modern player: we played football.

Despite the risk of injury this still happens - with good reason; it just cheers everyone up and most cricketers reckon they are gifted footballers and welcome the chance to prove it.

Now we often witness the side warming up before the start of the day’s play with a raucous contest; understandably they play a two-touch game and tackling is not permitted.

We did something similar before the season was underway except that there was no ban on tackling. The games were often very competitive and the tackles reflected the type of football that was prevalent in the First Division at the time - as displayed by the likes of Ron Harris of Chelsea and Norman Hunter of Leeds United.

There were days when the tackles flew in, the arguments raged and decisions disputed as the participants overheated.

“Come on Thumper”, Merv would say to his faithful dog, who would often accompany him at pre-season training. “We’re off”.

This meant the game was over. It was Merv’s ball. We might go to Wellington Sports Centre for a few days of fitness training, sometimes under the supervision of Brian Rose, since he was at PE college so he must have understood what to do.

We wore a motley range of tracksuits (there were no sponsors for them fifty years ago) and we ran up and down hills and did some devious training circuits inside the sports hall.

Even Close, who was now 43 years of age, would do some press-ups. To be more precise; he would do two, one for the BBC cameras and one for those from HTV, the local ITV station.

Thereafter there would be nets and some middle practise at the ground, where it soon became obvious that Richards was something special and that the young Botham was determined to plonk as many balls into the River Tone as possible, much to the frustration of Peter Robinson, who was supposed to be looking after all those precious practise balls

It was all rather more haphazard compared to today (I think we sometimes popped down to The Ring of Bells for a pint and a ploughman’s at lunchtime) but one thing remains the same.

As the first fixture draws near the excitement mounts and there is a restless eagerness to get going. And before the first ball is bowled in earnest, whether it’s 1974 or 2026, we all wonder “is this the year when it all comes together?”

Vic Marks