[1] He qualified by residence to play for Somerset at the end of 1939 but then had to wait until after World War II before making his debut, by which time he was 35 years old.
"[4] Lawrence was an instant success in Somerset's 1946 side, winning his county cap in his first season, scoring 968 first-class runs and taking 66 wickets.
[7][8] At the end of the season, he played for an England XI in a match at Cardiff Arms Park to celebrate Glamorgan's first County Championship, the only non-Test player in the side.
Somerset's cricket historian described it thus: "The prodigious leg-break would beat the bat and 'Steve' would knock off the bails with the merest flick.
But his batting continued to develop and was increasingly important in a side whose frailties in every department consigned it to the foot of the County Championship for four consecutive seasons from 1952 to 1955.
His first was an unbeaten 103 against the Indians at Taunton, when he batted at No 9 and shared a ninth-wicket partnership of 133 with William Dean, whose only first-class match this was.
[18] Yet within a month, he had asked to be released from his county contract and he left the Somerset staff at the end of the season.
[19] As part of its programme to revive after four years at the foot of the County Championship, Somerset had been looking far and wide for new players, and among the arrivals in the next couple of seasons were the Australians Colin McCool and Bill Alley, both of whom had been playing Lancashire League cricket.
[21] The year before, 1966, Lincolnshire qualified for the Gillette Cup List A competition, where the team played Hampshire in a first round match at Southampton that ran into a second day.
Johnny was married to Mary (née Clarkson) who played a crucial role in the cricket school, supporting his career, and raising their family.
[16] The history of Somerset cricket put it at greater length: "His cheerful disposition was much to the liking of the dressing-room occupants, though his non-conformist attitudes, including his much-voiced disapproval of what is quaintly called industrial language, could be a little too inhibiting for those with a bent for freewheeling linguistics at the end of an unrewarding afternoon in the sun.
"[3] Another admirer wrote: "He was a jolly, kindly man, and perhaps the biggest contribution he made to Somerset cricket was his laughter and comradeship in the dressing room, at a time when things were generally going wrong.