Stoneman ton puts Middlesex on ice

Celebrations might be taking place around the country to mark the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, but if the ghost of the Bard had put in an unexpected appearance at Chester-le-Street there would be little chance of him writing how "proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim hath put a spirit of youth in every thing." More likely something about the cold turning county cricketers, and all those of us who religiously watch it, into fools and madmen.

It was hardened professionalism, not youthful disposition, that got Middlesex's fielders through a day of intense cold during which the temperature read 5C at start of play, a stiff Arctic breeze whistled down the ground and hands in pockets was a basic necessity. This was not the sort of day to feel the joy of being alive, not until back in the warmth of a local hostelry at any rate.

In such conditions, Mark Stoneman's dependability must have worn even more heavily on Middlesex's attack. The Durham opener was dropped at long leg by James Harris on 19, pulling Tim Murtagh down wind, and never gave the sniff of a chance again as he reached the close on 139 not out. Middlesex's pace attack started loosely and although they upped their standards later, Durham maintained their grip.

When the arrival of snow drove the players from the field with two overs left, Middlesex's fielders stood politely by the outfield gate to applaud Stoneman off. He seemed to take an awfully long time to reach them. Not only had he batted for most of the day, he was now walking as slowly as an Arctic explorer across a glacier. They must have felt like leaving him to it.

Stoneman, who batted in a long-sleeve sweater for the first time, symbolises the toughness of Durham cricket. To be fair, quite a few do. He has survived for a decade on challenging pitches and, presented by more encouraging batting conditions this season, he is not about to treat the opportunity lightly. Middlesex's top seven all flared brightly, but none made a century, and as they set their eyes to the wind it was with the suspicion that their 389 was far from impregnable. Stoneman, with great selectivity of stroke, insisted that was so.

Keaton Jennings, against Somerset in the opening round, had become only the third Durham batsman to score two centuries in a match and he looked in good order, driving in spritely fashion before Steven Finn defeated him on the pull - a bottom edge down the leg side. Finn also removed Jack Burnham, lbw to one that came back, and Ben Stokes - a carefully constructed leg trap which worked at the second attempt as Stokes flicked off his pads. One that Sri Lanka and Pakistan might log away for the summer.

Finn's greatest achievement, though, was to field throughout the morning session in a short-sleeved sweater. They would even have been impressed with that in Newcastle's Bigg Market, where imperviousness to cold comes naturally. "Even pre-season was a lot warmer than this," he said. "The only time I've experienced anything this bad was Delhi in early January."

Burnham, prolific in the recent Under-19 World Cup, impressed greatly for his 61. A skip down the ground against the offspin of Paul Stirling and successive boundaries - a pull and drive - off Toby Roland-Jones to reach his half-century suggested a player of verve capable of holding down his place in Durham's middle order. Durham's seam stocks, lower than we have come to expect (although they have given the young South African Brydon Carse a development contract) suggests they may struggle, but that struggle need not end in failure.

The sheer willpower of county spectators never fails to amaze on such days. The romantic link between cricket and languid summer days suggests to the non-believer that enjoyment must be in short supply, but beneath the winter overcoats and array of headgear there was a sense of rapt attention. There again, they might have been iced to the seats.

This season's flatter pitches are logically better for the standard of English cricket, but in such conditions whether they are better for the game, rather than The Game, is debatable. Sport also needs to fit well with its environment and at least the unpredictability of a green seamer provides the sort of constant action to warm the cockles of the heart on taxing days like this. It also provides a better chance of a result in matches ravaged by rain. It is a quandary that will never be solved.