Listen with Arlott I am sure John Arlott has millions
of fans, and some of them may know something about cricket. I would not even be surprised to find
that I am the only aficionado driven to fury by his style of broadcasting. The true nut, if he can't be there or watching on television, takes his
transistor into the classroom, lavatory, board meeting, Cabinet room or factory shop. And as in some of those places he is likely to be super- vised, he has to listen in snatches. Please, then, please, please don't let him have to listen to : 'And Mackenzie starts off once more on that loping easy run with just a hint of menace in it as his lengthening stride takes him past Umpire Buller and his arm comes flashing over to bowl to Dexter who flicks at the ball majestically disdainfully arrogantly with just a hint of and down below us a policeman rises easily on his toes and settles down on his heels again carefully deliberately with just a hint of . . Or again (and unless I dream something like this was said on Saturday) there is the non-event: 'My word they'll have to be sharp here there's going to be an easy run out as Booth flicks a return into wicket-keeper Grout's hands . . . and the bats- men scamper comfortably home . . . what's that Jack? . . . Ohl . . . it seems they didn't go for a run after all. . .
All of which leads one to offer profound thanks for Jack Fingleton, who knows his cricket backwards and has a magnificently laconic style: 'O0000h and he's dropped. Well. Dropped by Jim Parks behind the stumps. An easy chance wouldn't you say Jack?'
`Well perhaps not an easy catch . . . let's say a difficult chance wide and one-handed to his left, but coming firmly straight off the hat,' `Off his pad.'