Somerset prepare to crush Surrey like the hopes of a little girl in a hope-crushing factory

There were some rankings a while ago. It compared places in the world. Somerset came out tops; Surrey was at the bottom.

Most other places were somewhere in between. Take Austria, for instance, the most in between place in the world.

The statistical superiority of the West Country County was re-asserting itself at the Whitgift School in Croydon (this is another in-between place, but not as in between as Austria as it has an Ikea).

Surrey started well by scoring runs. Then they started to fail as they let Somerset do likewise.

The Somersetians began brightly, with a beefy 40 by Neil Edwards. And then the icing was put on the cocaine when Justin Langer and a slim-lined Ian Blackwell each scored centuries.

Last season, I tipped Edwards for great things. Mainly because he permanently looks like he’s just eaten your kitten, but is going to keep it secret. But also, he’s like a fantasy replacement for Marcus Trescothick: a big, pinch-hitting Cornishman.

But he, more or less, failed me too.

Talking of failure, let’s have a look at Surrey’s second innings. The failure is spread thick as my Uncle Frederica’s homemade marmalade on his homemade stale bread.

At stumps, they’re 172/7, and leading by 52. This deserves a belly laugh. Ho ho ho. They’re doomed. DOOOOMED.

After we have dispatched the weakling Surrey Rahs, the Championship will be ours. OURS!

[I have to be in Kent next week. Boring work stuff, I'm afraid. So I might not be able to update this site. I'll be back, though. Promise.]