Now, I used to like football a lot more than I do now. My Dad first took me to watch football when I was about seven. I maintained quite an active interest into adulthood, playing five-a-side into my forties and continuing to watch games with my son fairly regularly until quite recently.

I still read the sports pages. I have a working knowledge of who's up and who's down and I do still occasionally go to a game. However, I have grown rather disillusioned with the money, the predictability of the "Big Four" teams in England winning just about everything and, worst of all, the dishonesty and cynicism which seems to be rife in the game epitomised by Thierry Henry's "Main de Dieu" in the France-Ireland World Cup game last week.

But the reassuring signature tune of Sports Report and the dulcet Scottish tones of James Alexander Gordon coming out of my car radio last Saturday rekindled my interest. Somehow, "Chelsea (loads of Russian money, almost bound to win) 4, Wolves (straight back down to the Championship, not much of a chance) 0" sounds more romantic than it really is when read by James.

James has been reading the football results on Saturday afternoons since 1974. It would be an achievement for anyone to do it for so long but it's a particular achievement for him because he overcame a speech impediment caused by childhood polio.

And what a joy it is to listen to him. First of all, it's the lilting Edinburgh accent which is so easy on the ear. But, above all, it's his inflection. So when he reads out a result, you can tell from the inflection of the home team and its score, what the result will be – whether it's a home win, an away win or a draw – before he's read out the away team. He got one wrong last Saturday – the inflection on "Torquay United 0, Rotherham 2" was all awry! Normally, though, he's spot on.

But there's a certain poetry in the football results quite apart from James's wonderful reading of them. I find myself listening out to spot neighbouring teams playing neighbouring opponents as the fixture computer often throws up. Last Saturday, for example, Liverpool entertained Manchester City while Everton travelled to Manchester United. Ipswich Town welcomed Sheffield Wednesday while Sheffield United were at home to another Eastern Counties team – Peterborough United.

I enjoy thinking about the journeys involved in, for example, "Leicester City 1, Plymouth Argyle 0". A result which can be read out in two seconds will involve countless hours of travelling for teams and fans criss-crossing each other on the motorway network.

Then there's the clash of cultures implicit in, say, "(faded) Morecambe 1, (genteel) Cheltenham 0" or the straightforward local rivalry involved in "Lincoln 0, Grimsby 0". And perhaps the best bit of all is when James gets down to the lower reaches of the results. I'm sure he'd deny it but I think he speeds up a bit during the lower English leagues – I suppose it's hard to get too excited about "Ebbsfleet 0 Tamworth 1". However, I think he slows down again and particularly enjoys the lower Scottish divisions. The romantic sounding team names of his homeland – Inverness Caledonian Thistle, Elgin City, Montrose and the like – seem to elicit a particularly affectionate response. And he always ends with a flourish by prefacing the very last result with "and finally" ….. "Stranraer 1, East Stirlingshire 2".

All in all, it's like a poem and it can be enjoyed even if you're not hanging on the results as if your life depended on them.

I understand that James is fit and well and he appears to be one septuagenarian who will carry on and on.

However, there will come a point when he disappears to the great football almanac in the sky and here's a suggestion. So that we can all continue to enjoy his melodious tones each Saturday afternoon, perhaps we could ask James – before he finally hangs up his boots – to record the name of every club in the land and every number up to, say, 36 (the highest recorded score in a senior football match in Britain, I believe). Then – after he's gone – a computer could simulate the results in his voice.

So, even a hundred years from now, a presenter could still say "But first the full classified results read by James Alexander Gordon".

Colin Philpott is director of the National Media Museum in Bradford.