TEXAS TOM, BALL-BY-BALL AND RANDALL'S TOMATOES

DAVID TOWNSEND CHARTS THE RISE OF ONLINE COUNTY COMMENTARIES FROM HUMBLE BEGINNING TO FLAGSHIP BBC SERVICE

It was about 10 years ago that I first spotted Kevin Hand sitting in a tent, talking to himself. A young bloke with a microphone, but clearly no razor, commentating on a Middlesex County Championship match at an outground, to a niche audience. Eerily, I realised I was looking at myself in the late 1980s.

As the players trooped off for lunch, I said hello, explaining that I used to do something similar for Cricketcall, the telephone information service back in the days when Middlesex had a decent team, and asked where his fellow commentators were.

“This is it – just me,” he explained. “Sometimes I get players to sit in and help but most of the time it’s just me and the listeners.”

Poor sod. It was tiring enough in the old days when we rotated a commentator from each county and a third voice, including ex-players like the splendid Trevor Bailey and Tom Graveney. How hard must it be to talk through two hours on your own, never mind a whole day’s play?

“Would you like me to sit in with you for a few overs?”

And so it began.

With a part-time job and, frankly, too much time on my hands, I would roll up at Lord’s a few overs before lunch, sit in through the afternoon session and leave some time after tea. I became Middlesex’s unofficial summariser. A bit too unofficial, at times. But never quite as unofficial as David Nash, the then wicketkeeper, who seemed to revel in dropping the occasional F-bomb.

Summarisers using profanities was not the only thing that had changed during my decade and a half away from the mic. Commentary was now much more of a conversation: two blokes sitting on a couch having a natter about all sorts, with the cricket as a backdrop. There were constant references to Star Wars – KH is a Trekkie, or whatever they call themselves – tenuous links to issues of the day, rants about the hopelessness of cricket administrators and the unruliness of kids, and a general irreverence that would have appalled Messrs Bailey and Graveney.

And not only those two. “Why don’t you just stick to describing the cricket?” was a complaint from one long-time Middlesex fan. “Why does everything have to be banter these days?”

It is not banter, Grumpy Dave, it is entertainment and that is what the majority of the listeners want, along with being informed. We know this because the biggest thing that has changed since the last century is interactivity with the audience.

Back in the day, sitting in the northern turret of the Lord’s pavilion pondering the timing of a declaration, I got a bit carried away and said: “What do you think? Give us a call and let us know if Gatt is being way too cautious here.” I then gave out our landline number. My fellow commentator was aghast, despite the phone remaining silent. His look thundered: “What’s it to do with THEM?”

Fast-forward a quarter of a century and it is all about THEM. In the early days of the service, KH got through gruelling solo stints with the help of emails from around the world. Intelligent observations, daft observations, attempts at humour, attempts at captaincy, grand ideas for the restructuring of the game or simply a Star Wars reference. They were all read out. “We’ve got an email here from Mark in Madrid...” was my cue to get up, do a lap of the ground, have a chat with the groundsman, and still get back before KH had finished reading it.

An Australian insomniac used to collate “It happened on this day...” and send it in, presumably to help him get off to sleep as KH waded through the birthdays and bowling feats of little known Tasmanian allrounders. Boring as it might sound – and indeed was – such emails were manna to a bloke approaching his sixth hour of solo commentary.

Other emails were interesting, some informative, some simply bizarre.

There is something humbling about sitting in a commentary box in north-west London and knowing that your words are being heard around the world. Everywhere you would expect and several places you wouldn’t. “Could you mention my girlfriend on air? She’s Russian and loves listening to you guys.”

After a while, the regular correspondents become friends who you sort of knew but rarely, if ever, met: the Venerable Meade, a photographer; Dutch Bird Kate, who lives in Amsterdam; Old Derek, a retired Football League referee; and Lily from North Yorkshire.

The most fun – and probably nuttiest – are the tiny subculture of American cricket fanatics, including Texas Tom, who is always calling for a declaration and Harold Cade, who diligently records every ball of every Championship game and listens back to different matches in full to help him through the long winter months.

Without doubt the most remote place ever to get in touch was a research camp in Antarctica, listening in between gathering data on Chinstrap penguins. What? Yes, that’s what I said too. Apparently there is a distinct variation of penguin with black chinstraps. Cue a discussion on evolution that managed to include both flamingos and heavy bats.

Nowadays, Twitter is the preferred mode of interaction; a 140-character evolution in itself that has endangered, if not entirely extinguished Mark in Madrid.

The evolution of the local radio commentaries from KH, his Surrey counterpart Mark Church, Dickie Davies and the Essex mafia and one or two others, including Marty Emmerson in the real north, to its present-day incarnation as a flagship BBC service, was overseen by Charles Runcie, the former head of regional sport.

Runcie, who retired this year after more than three decades at the Beeb, knew instinctively that “this is the sort of thing we should be doing”. He cajoled sports editors – the operation is still local radio-led – endured meetings with the ECB, sorted out facilities at grounds and found some money in the budget at a time when there wasn’t any.

In 2014, with support from the ECB, the BBC ambitiously set out to cover “every ball of every county game”. In addition to the pioneers, a new intake of commentators included two former internationals – although readers will be more familiar with Iain O’Brien’s appearances for New Zealand than Dave Bracegirdle’s career with Italy – a former young commentator of the year, Scott Read, and Anthony Gibson, the son of a former Test Match Special regular.

It was Runcie who introduced the ‘third voices’ partly to assist the two assigned commentators at some games, partly to give new talent a platform. Already this initiative can claim to have produced a star, with the wonderful Ebony Heaven-Sent whisked away by TMS after a couple of stellar appearances with KH and myself. Charles Dagnall has made a similar journey to TMS via BBC Radio Leicester.

With TMS producer Adam Mountford a regular listener, and now in charge of the rota, there is the chance for new names to be quickly recognised and promoted, without necessarily having played the game, but also an opening for players to test their suitability for a future career. Steven Mullaney and Luke Fletcher are in and out of the Trent Bridge box almost as often as Bracegirdle, while Dave Callaghan’s cuddly style has brought not only regular appearances from the Yorkshire squad but also coach Jason Gillespie, with whom he has developed both a close friendship and the popular after-dinner double act Dizzy and Dave.

Neither Runcie nor Mountford has attempted to impose any sort of house style across the different counties. Uniformity wouldn’t work. Flick across the channels on a given matchday and along with descriptions of play and tactical analysis, you could hear a report on the World Cider Championships from the Bath and West Show, a wailing and gnashing of teeth as Nottinghamshire stare into the abyss, Johnny Barran’s Cricketing Question of the Day, the ECB’s managing director skirting around the Kevin Pietersen issue, last night’s shipping news on the Roker Riviera, KH’s apparent attempts to open a secondhand car lot at the Nursery End, and revelations about the tomato-growing prowess of Derek Randall.

Yes, it is a mish-mash, but it works. Gloriously. For those who have found us on their computers or smartphones, the BBC commentaries are becoming as much part of the summer as county cricket itself. Never more so, judging by the reaction, than at Scarborough last year when the three Daves – Callaghan, Bradley and myself – produced a magical four days of Last of the Summer Wine whimsy, enjoyed as much outside the box as in.

The fourth member of our team that week was Kevin Howells who, among his other functions, fills a key role in co-ordinating the online service with broadcast output on BBC Radio 5 Live Sports Extra. The facility is there to dip in and out of matches with Howells linking and giving a perspective to the action. With two or more matches building to a climax in the final hour it can be captivating radio.

And the future? Well, one or two counties are already live-streaming pictures and synching them with the commentaries, and social media innovations will lead to more interviews and pictures and videos of interviews. The technology will advance but the future, like the past, will be about voices, the sound of leather on willow, the telling of tales and the passing of time in good company. It’s what another regular listener, Dr Dan, calls watching cricket on the radio. Or another device. n

Shire workhorses

David Townsend introduces some of the BBC characters behind the microphone

David Callaghan (Yorkshire)

Non-Test-playing half of Dizzy and Dave. Gets though 31 reports per day for five local radio stations. Part-time vegan.

Catchphrase: “You’re right, Dizzy”

Kevin Hand (Middlesex)

South London lad who claims to be Irish. Feet-on-the-desk commentary style. Retired paceman. Part-time builder.

Catchphrase: “I’m off the cake this season”

Mark Church (Surrey)

One of the originals and still the hardest-working of the group. PR guru. Keeps sidekick Johnny Barran on a tight rein.

Catchphrase: “Well batted”

Anthony Gibson (Somerset)

Son of Alan. Founder member of CAMRA and doyen of West Country farming shows. Red jacket as well as red trousers.

Catchphrase: “The Quantocks...”

Clive Eakin (Warwickshire)

Straight man of the BBC WM team. Winner of 2015 CMJ County Broadcaster of the Year award. Tranmere fan.

Catchphrase: “Let’s stick to the cricket”

Marty Emmerson (Durham)

Sunderland’s finest. A 10-year-old wicketkeeper who failed to kick on. Has favourite motorways. And reservoirs.

Catchphrase: “The Roker Riviera”

Scott Read (Lancashire)

Youngest and coolest of the group. Unflappable, good reader of the game and stout defender of the Manchester climate.

Catchphrase: “It’s a bit overcast”

Kevan James (Hampshire)

Former county allrounder who had one good game against India in 1996. Relaxed, laid-back style. Older than he looks.

Catchphrase: “What’s the follow-on target?”

Dave Bracegirdle (Nottinghamshire)

Passionate supporter of everything Trent Bridge-related. Cranks up the volume when winning. A little quiet of late.

Catchphrase: “You’re right, Luke”