Chris Waters: Oh for another Arlott to lead the cause of cricket reporting

FOR reasons that will neither interest nor impress you, I found myself talking the other day to Derek Jameson, the former national newspaper editor and broadcaster.

"Why aren't you in Ors-tralia?" he enquired, referring to my role as the Yorkshire Post's cricket correspondent.

"My word, when I was an editor in Fleet Street," he continued, "I remember my sports editor asking me whether we could send our rugby writer on a six-week tour of Asia.

"'A six-week tour of Asia?'" I bristled.

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"'Well', said the sports editor, 'if we don't send someone, the Daily Mail will.'"

Times, reflected Jameson, have changed since then.

Not since 1954-55, in fact, has the Yorkshire Post sent its cricket correspondent Down Under – JM Kilburn dispatched by boat to cover the victorious tour led by Yorkshire's Len Hutton.

"It's hard enough these days to get them to send me to Barnsley – let alone Brisbane," I joked to the 81-year-old Jameson.

"Yes, I reckon I'm well out of that lot!" he replied in his distinctive Cockney drawl.

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The reality, however, is I am one of the lucky few to work for a newspaper that actually bothers to cover county cricket properly.

Many newspapers these days seem to pick and choose games on a selective basis.

In a previous life as cricket correspondent of the Nottingham Evening Post, I was sent to cover a match between Nottinghamshire and Ireland in Dublin.

No problems there, and yet the following week I was not permitted to cover Nottinghamshire in action at Derby – a mere 10 miles down the road!

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Jameson would never have tolerated such a slapdash approach and his comments about newspapers got me thinking.

For not only are there no provincial journalists covering the Ashes Down Under, but those who are watching the series for a living are more likely than not former players.

The cricket correspondents of the country's three main national broadsheets are Michael Atherton (The Times), Derek Pringle (Daily Telegraph) and Mike Selvey (The Guardian), while Vic Marks is cricket correspondent of the Observer.

Throw in all the ex-players who work for television and radio and you could put together a half-decent international side – without even needing to persuade Shane Warne to come out of retirement.

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Although Atherton, Pringle, Selvey and Marks are seasoned operators, the over-reliance on former players to provide commentary is out of all proportion.

The Sky commentary team for the last Test in Adelaide comprised David Gower, Nasser Hussain, Ian Botham, Michael Holding, Atherton and Warne, while the two men providing studio analysis were Nick Knight and Bob Willis.

The Test Match Special team included Michael Vaughan, Simon Hughes, Ian Chappell, Marks and Jonathan Agnew.

It seems bona fide journalists are rarer than hen's teeth.

Of course, there are some excellent players-turned-pundits.

No matter what you might think of Geoffrey Boycott, the former Yorkshire and England opening batsman knows the game inside out and is always good value, while the qualities

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of former Australia captain Richie Benaud do not need explaining.

Personally, I have a lot of time for Bob Willis, whom I find informative and refreshingly droll, but I fail to see what the likes of Knight and Gower bring to the table.

With all due respect, Knight seems incapable of venturing an opinion and is the type of fellow who could find positives in a car accident, while Gower seems out of his depth when a big story breaks.

Lloyd is highly personable and has established something of a cult following, but it is impossible to imagine the great John Arlott whispering in his distinctive Hampshire burr: "Start the car" – Lloyd's famous catchphrase.

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Indeed, so bereft is the cricketing media of proper journalists and broadcasters that few contemporary commentaries are remotely memorable.

When Don Bradman came out to play his last Test innings at the Oval in 1948, Arlott described the action in vivid fashion.

As the Australia batsman faced up to leg-spinner Eric Hollies, Arlott told listeners:

"It's rather good to be here when Don Bradman comes in to bat in his last Test.

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"And now here's Hollies to bowl to him from the Vauxhall End.

"He bowls, Bradman goes back across his wicket and pushes the ball gently in the direction of the Houses of Parliament which are out beyond mid-off.

"It doesn't go that far, it merely goes to Watkins at silly mid-off.

"No run, still 117 for one. Two slips, a silly mid-off, and a forward short-leg, close to him, as Hollies pitches the ball up slowly (voice rises) and (sudden applause) – he's bowled.' (The applause continues and then dies down).

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"Bradman, bowled Hollies, nought. Bowled Hollies, nought. And what do you say under those circumstances?

"I wonder if you see a ball very clearly in your last Test in England on a ground where you've played out some of the biggest cricket of your life, and where the opposing team have just stood round you and given you three cheers and the crowd has clapped you all the way to the wicket.

"I wonder if you really see the ball at all."

Had Lloyd been on the microphone, he would probably have said something like: "Yes, you beauty! That's the end of The Don! Hollies bowling some great areas here... Start the car!"

Of course, not everyone possesses the descriptive skills of Arlott, but the lack of professional journalists is a major concern.

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After all, you would not ask the likes of Arlott or Brian Johnston to open the batting for England, so why expect former players to anchor programmes and provide descriptive detail?

That Sky did not have a single out-and-out journalist in their commentary box at Adelaide (Atherton excepted) pretty much said it all.

Although a sprinkling of former players can provide valuable expertise, oh for another Arlott or Johnston to sustain us through the night.

Picking up the poisoned chalice

IF proof were needed that football has gone mad, it came last week with the sacking of Chris Hughton as Newcastle United manager.

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Hughton – one of the game's good guys – had steered Newcastle to 12th in the Premier League on a limited budget after winning promotion at the first attempt.

Liked and respected by players and supporters, he was doing an excellent job at St James's Park.

But was that good enough for Newcastle owner Mike Ashley and the club's board?

Was it heck.

They wanted someone with greater experience to take the club forward, so turned to Alan Pardew – sacked by League One Southampton in August.

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Pardew, who has also led Reading, West Ham and Charlton, is Newcastle's sixth manager in the space of under four years – a ridiculous turnaround.

The job of Newcastle manager is not really a job but a poisoned chalice.

By far the most laughable aspect of Pardew's appointment is his length of contract – a whopping five-and-a-half years.

With Ashley at the helm, it would be a major surprise if he lasts five-and-a-half weeks.