IN THE background of our photograph are two Victorian church towers in Taunton, both made of sandstone. On the right is an imposing church dedicated to St James and, on the left, a few streets further away, is the even more imposing Taunton Minster, dedicated to Mary Magdalene. Both are worth a visit, but I want to direct your attention to the field adjoining St James’s in the foreground: the Cooper Associates County Ground, as it is now called, and the home of Somerset County Cricket Club since 1882.

I first went to see Somerset play at Taunton on Saturdays and bank holidays in the early 1950s, when the team inevitably finished at the bottom of the championship table. When Somerset’s bowlers Johnny Lawrence and Bertie Buse were struggling, my father would say: “If I go for a walk, a wicket will fall.” He might well return an hour later, as soon as that wicket had fallen, and claim that his walk had done the trick.

There were, of course, some fine players to watch: Harold Gimblett, just past his best batting for Somerset; Lindsay Hassett, the Australian captain, hitting a six; Freddie Trueman of Yorkshire steaming in from the pavilion end to intimidate the batsmen; and Tom Graveney piling up the runs for Gloucestershire in a local derby. And if the cricket lacked excitement, there were always others to talk to, including a retired farmer who had fought in the Boer War. We sat in view of the two towers.

By the end of the 1950s, Somerset’s lot had improved, helped not least by the arrival of the mature Aussie Bill Alley, who scored 3000 runs in 1961 and who added significantly to the bowling attack. I left home in the mid-1960s and missed the glory years of Ian Botham and Viv Richards winning one-day trophies. By the early 1990s, I knew I had to make the occasional trip back to Taunton.

HAD there been anything particularly holy about Taunton cricket ground in earlier years? Well, the sight of the church towers of course — something that excites me now, even on TV. A Revd Bridger had turned out for Hampshire, but his batting (as I recall) was not exceptional. No, nothing especially holy, until I came back again with my wife.

The surrounds were very different: new pavilions, stands, and an electronic scoreboard. And yet it was the same old ground. I settled down and, before long, found a very happy feeling of “I belong here.” The air was fresh, the sky was blue with seagulls overhead, and the grass was green. And the cricketers came out in white, every bit as white as a church choir. (Nowadays, of course, cricket includes the colourful limited-over formats, but they have their blessings too.) A sense of peace and goodwill abounded, with neighbours in the stand akin to a friendly congregation.

Although I rarely make the trip now, am I flippant in telling people that my “thin” space is in Somerset? If sport and relaxation are gifts from God, then surely not. If you want a Taunton miracle, you may have to wait a while yet before the Somerset team lifts the championship trophy for the first time. For now, just consider that Somerset’s cricket ground might be a candidate for the designation of a holy place — alongside those two churches.

Don Manley was the Church Times’s crossword editor from 1989 to 2024.