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Here I go out to sea again
The sunshine fills my hair
And dreams hang in the air


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Thus the opening lines of Black's 1987 song "Wonderful Life", whose melody it was tempting to hum during this fine day's cricket at Southport, where Felix Organ's bowling and some grit-and-grind batting in the evening have given Hampshire a chance of avoiding defeat. The spectators made the day memorable, too; indeed they were an integral part of the event as they stood ten deep in front of the Late Cut Bar, drinking for England, talking typewriters and causing no trouble. Other folk ringed this sacred field to watch Phil Salt make a century and if those two thousand or so souls could not relate too closely to the mystical elements in the late Colin Vearncombe's brilliant lyrics, they surely agreed with its overarching sentiment.

The weather helped things along, too. The sun pierced all but the thickest bedroom curtains at seven o'clock and it braised the first spectators as they set up their base camp at the Harrod Drive End two hours later. One was reminded that during one of his state visits to the United Kingdom the Shah of Persia found himself seated next to a lady from Edinburgh. "Tell me, Sire," she began, "they say you worship the sun in your country." "So would you, madam, if you had ever seen it," came the reply. It's debatable whether that story is testament to Dunedinian gloom or the fierceness of the Persian summer but either way, there was no doubting the dominance of the sun at Trafalgar Road.

It shone on Salt and Josh Bohannon as they whippeted between the wickets in their stand of 74, calling each other sharply and responding with an instinctive appreciation of the possible. It powered down on Salt a minute before noon when an inside-edged four off his pad took him to his maiden century for Lancashire and his first in red-ball cricket since May 2019. Then it bestowed the warmest blessing on Organ when the offspinner removed Salt, Dane Vilas and Rob Jones before lunch and cleaned up Lancashire's tail to finish with a career-best 6 for 67 in mid-afternoon.

And yes, the sun also blessed the battalion of volunteers as they willingly strapped themselves in for a second day of caring, catering and clearing up. For this was another day when cricketers and those who love the game receive some recompense for those fuliginous December mornings when daylight seems a useless accessory to a dank world.

The obstacle to Hampshire's appreciation of it all was they began the morning so far behind in the game that even a good first session - four prime wickets for 121 runs - still left them on the jagged edge of things. The Lancashire batter principally responsible for the visitors' plight on the first evening was Salt and his progress to three figures this morning reminded one a little of his maiden red-ball century for Sussex nearly five years ago

Since that golden afternoon at Arundel, Salt has played short-form cricket for - deep breath - Lahore Qalandars, Islamabad United, Barbados Tridents, Adelaide Strikers, Manchester Originals, Dambulla Giants, Pretoria Capitals, Delhi Capitals and, for all I know, Dagenham Girl Pipers' Second Team in the Essex Inclusion League. But what was plain on Sunday evening and again this morning was that Salt's keenness to attack has not spoiled his appreciation of defensive batting when the occasion demands it. Only when Keith Barker tested him outside the off stump did his technique look faulty and if that weakness could be remedied, he could still be a very fine first-class cricketer. Whether or not he has the time and inclination to develop such skills are matters only he can address.


Perhaps a similar challenge was once faced by Daryl Mitchell, who is now ranked the ninth best Test batter in the world. Mitchell revealed his preparedness to take on the bowling when he took 14 runs off his first three balls from Organ and the New Zealander's 68 was principally responsible for ensuring that Lancashire later batters built a first-innings lead of 232.

So much was also very acceptable for most of the crowd at Trafalgar Road but the 40-over evening session belonged to Hampshire's batsmen. Most notably, it belonged to Nick Gubbins, who had been sawn off in the first innings and to Fletcha Middleton, who had made nought and dropped three catches. During the course of one of the latter he deflected the ball into Liam Dawson's mush, causing the slow left-armer to leave the field and go to hospital for stitches in his upper lip.

All of which suggested that Middleton owed his team some runs and his unbroken 95-run alliance with Gubbins reminded one that wonderful days like this are so often gradual affairs in which any advantage is hard won. Lancashire had to be satisfied with the wicket of Joe Weatherley, whose blameless forward defensive nicked a catch to Tom Hartley off Tom Bailey. A few spectators left Trafalgar Road during the subsequent stand but the majority stayed, patiently observing Vilas's rotation of his bowlers, savouring the struggle, watching closely.