Opinion / Robert Bound
All filler, no killer
In north London, near Lord’s cricket ground, the weather forecast is grim. When these dog days of summer get wet it means that the cricket’s off and the resting teams play cards, do press-ups, maybe even chat – for there is a smartphone amnesty in the dressing room to avoid distraction. But for the commentators on radio (and less so TV), there are no such diversions from the job at hand: there might be no play on the pitch but the show must go on.
From 10.30 until 19.00 the commentators, summarisers, experts and guests on BBC Radio’s Test Match Special will look out at a wet field of grass and fill. Fill, fill, fill all day long. They’ll talk about the rain, perhaps the quality, wetness and depth of it, the likelihood of play that hour, then the hour afterwards. They’ll chat about the attire of some of the pluckier spectators who’ve yet to vacate their soggy seats and how they are avoiding… pleurisy, perhaps. Then they’ll play some old interviews with great players. Then, if they’re lucky, it’ll be lunch. Afterwards the cabin fever and chablis might mean they’ll talk about dogs, papercuts, scaffolding, pasta. Then they’ll start on statistics. How many matches or series have actually been improved by rain? What sort of captains came into their own, tactically, in straitened circumstances? Then the famous subject of baking posted to the commentary box: the cakes in funny shapes, the sponges sprung from suggestive moulds. Fill, fill, fill all day long – “Oooh, Matron!”
Radio commentary is a great skill: to say what you see so that those that can’t almost can. But it’s some sort of genius to be able to spend an afternoon enlightening patient millions with wanderings on tree surgery, pigs, lucky socks and bunkers. I can hear another shower drumming the window – now is the time to tune in.