Ethan Bamber blossoming into Middlesex's new attack leader

SAM DALLING AT LORD'S: The shadow of Tim Murtagh is vast – and that is not meant as a criticism, simply a nod to his absolute class – but Bamber is stepping from beneath it. Kent's Ben Compton, however, succeeded in frustrating Middlesex in the gloom

There is many a fine bowling attack in the LV= Insurance County Championship's top-tier. Test match operators; international hopefuls; county wizards. Often all together.

The difference between the two divisions is the sheer relentlessness. After the opening pair, comes another canny duo. Sometimes there is even a fifth. And then there is the depth, the options either watching on or stuck in the 2s. As Chase & Status – doubtless with county batters in mind – sang, there is no place you can go, nowhere you can hide.

Middlesex, prima facie, lack that star quality. Toby Roland-Jones played a little for England (with considerable success) before his body failed him, while Murtagh took the new cherry for Ireland for a while. But compared to the riches elsewhere – Olly Stone and Jake Ball are scuttling on and off with electrolyte drinks at Nottinghamshire, for example – they are closer to the breadline.

And yet. Yes, and yet. Middlesex's bowling cartel is exactly what is necessary: an excellent county unit. More parts pace than guile, yet still formidable. They have a formative leader emerging, too: Ethan Bamber.

At 24 years old, Bamber is still a youth. This game at Lord's is just his 51st appearance for the county, yet he operates as if a zero is plonked on the end of that figure. He has always been a wise head on youthful shoulders. A thinker – at times, by his own admission, overly so – a philosopher, and a dreamer. He wants to play Test cricket but is aware of how distant that is right now. But he will leave no stone downward facing as he pushes for improvement.

^{Bamber picked up three wickets on day one against Kent [Alex Davidson/Getty Images]}

After Middlesex sealed their return to Division One, Bamber headed down under. His returns (25 victims at 38.32) were ok last summer but below those of his stellar 52-wicket 2021. He wanted to grow, and so headed - with Gloucestershire's Miles Hammond - for Adelaide University Cricket Club, South Australia. As an overseas player there was that little extra pressure, and Bamber made a self-pact to act on impulse. Not dangerously so, but if a cricketing idea popped into the grey matter, he would run with it, not ruminate on it. It is bearing early fruit.

By lunch here Bamber had bowled nine sets of six, picking up 2 for 14. Daniel Bell-Drummond had looked stodgy before flashing at one he really ought to have allowed pass. Stephen Eskinazi's hands are safe. Jordan Cox wandered down the alternative path, leaving one alone he really ought to have laid – or at least attempted to lay – willow on.

In fairness, it was a beauty, nipping back more quickly than the supermarket shopper who hears that yellow labels are being applied to the aisle they have just passed. Bamber allowed those around him to lead the celebrations, although did tip a little wink to Tom Helm once he arrived in the huddle. Fast bowler's union and all that.

At lunch the assembled media – and there was a decent gaggle present on, presumably, 'Zak Crawley watch' – suggested it was Middlesex's best bowling performance of the fledgling season. As the others supped their miscellaneous soup (it is always flavoursome here, but the lack of label means the varieties are simply 'green', 'beige' and 'yellow'), they nodded sagely in agreement.

Bamber's post-lunch return was an instant hit. Joey Evison had a little nibble at his first ball and John Simpson had his first catch of the match. No need for looseners. That is, in a nutshell, precisely how Bamber operates. Nothing flashy, unnerving accuracy and just about nudging enough doubt into batter’s minds. The shadow of Tim Murtagh is vast – and that is not meant as a criticism, simply a nod to his absolute class – but Bamber is stepping from beneath it.

Grant Stewart, in at eight during only the 44th over, decided offence trumped defence. One skier off Bamber kept mid-on's attention for a while, before falling safe. Soon after, Old Father Time was targeted with a hoick. It seemed a fair approach.

^{Ben Compton frustrated Middlesex in the Lord's gloom [Jacques Feeney/Getty Images]}

Now when facing Kent this season, the analysts, coaches, bowlers will doubtless expend much of their pre-game energies trying to work out Ben Compton. Or, more accurately perhaps, scrambling to find his weakness. And it is not obvious. If the theory that, in early season England, there is always a ball with one's name scribbled on it is true, Compton is not a subscriber. He is immovable.

On this, his first appearance at the ground containing a permanent homage to his late grandfather, Compton just cracked on amidst the carnage. Nothing seems to phase him. If beaten – which does, inevitably, happen occasionally – there is no external signs of ill-ease.

There is a simplicity to his batting, too. He knows his limitations and sticks well within them. He is happy enough pulling, hopping onto one leg (Brian Lara-esque, but then again not) and rolling the wrists. But the control that is astonishing. Yes, Helm aside, there no real pace in the Middlesex attack, but Compton has oodles of time.

At one point, Ryan Higgins had a leg slip, a pair of catching midwickets, a deep square leg, and a long leg in attempt to unsettle Compton. It failed miserably. While the nationals may not have been here directly to watch Compton, he is a fine story. Through sheer weight of runs, he surely must be in the conversation, no? An anchor waiting to drop. Maybe not. These are very different times.

Higgins, by the way, was miserly. 11 overs brought one wicket and just 13 runs. Had there been a third slip, Compton might have fallen. Instead, in Higgins' ninth over, there was a boundary that took his 'runs conceded' count past 10.

With Middlesex very much ascending, and Compton beginning to run short of partners, the light faded. The gloom became grey of such a shade that even the floodlights stood little chance. Off they popped, and soon came the rain. And it kept coming. Play abandoned: Kent 113 for 6. Compton is unbeaten on 38, of course.