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Who dares say the County Championship is a useless anachronism? Rumours of its irrelevance have been much exagerrated for years and we were reminded of this again today as Lancashire took their first outright title since 1934, defeating my beloved Somerset by eight wickets and with just five overs to spare.
It still, even in the evening glow of victory, seems improbable that a county with Lancashire’s cricketing resources and tradition could have gone so many decades without a championship but whenever Lancs were good someone else was just a little bit better and, of course, sometimes – or so they’ll tell you in Manchester – the rain would make it harder for the Red Rose county to prevail.
So despite impish Fairbrother, princely Wasim, chuckling Murali and imperious Lloyd (Clive, not Bumble) there was always something a little lugubrious about Lancashire cricket.
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