DECISION REFERRAL SYSTEM

© Radio Times

I've really missed CMJ this summer.

For those not in the know, CMJ was Christopher Martin Jenkins, the former chief cricket correspondent for The Times, and long-time commentator for Test Match Special, famed (to me at least) for his distinctive voice and vague relationship with timekeeping and organisation, and who sadly died at the very start of this year..

Since I discovered it at about the age of seventeen or eighteen (perhaps not in some small part I'll admit because of the influence of Peter Davison's choice of costume in "Doctor Who" although I'd been watching for some years prior to that...) shortly after discovering the pleasures of the game itself by watching games unfold during long summer days spent at home back in the days when it still filled the BBC's daytime schedule, I've always enjoyed Test Match Special, or "Cricket on the Radio" as I've come to know it.

I can't actually remember the first time that I twiddled the dial and tracked down Radio Four and found this broadcasting nugget, but I imagine that it had something to do with being on holiday and stuck outside in a field or on a path somewhere wondering how the game was going, and becoming, to all intents and purposes, the modern-day equivalent of an obsessive old buffer in that ancient Alfred Hitchcock movie "The Lady Vanishes", except for the more intolerant moments when I'm not raging about the fact that they haven't even mentioned the score in over twenty minutes, or thoose more "geeky" times when it's all about the numbers and a glorious tsunami of statistics.

The thing about CMJ was that, despite his air of crisp authority and refined upbringing, he was one of the commentators who had a great sense of both the fun and the absurdity of Test Match Cricket, one of those rare talents who's dry wit and crisp observations of the things going on all around the five-day spectacle that is the average test match help to keep things interesting, even if, like many of its fans admit, the game itself remains baffling.

There have been a few other special characters over the years, from John Arlott, Fred Trueman, Trevor Bailey and Brian Johnston who are now no longer with us, but who managed to transform the potentially dry and dreary art of describing a very visual game on the radio into something rather special, but, as we enter a new era in which the game is, perhaps, taken far more seriously than it used to be by its participants (although 'Sir' Geoffrey might disagree about that), I'm starting to find it all slightly less entertaining and essential listening than it once was.

Perhaps it's just due to changes in the production team since peter Baxter's retirement, and changes to the commentary team because of the sad results of the inevitable march of time, but I'm just not finding that sitting and listening to TMS is as much fun as it used to be, and this is coming from someone who will let out a "Morning, Henry!" whenever Henry "My dear old thing" Blofeld crackles fruitily onto the airwaves, loves the dry wit of Vic Marks, and who still feels a genuine sense of relief whenever Jonathan Agnew takes over the microphone because he's one of the few "newbies" who "gets it" about how TMS ought to be. Obviously "newbie" is a relative term, given that he's been involved since the days of Johnners, but  I do think that his double act with Geoffrey Boycott is amongst the greatest natural comedy entertainment performances of modern times.

You see, because we're still holding out on the whole "satellite" thing, our only way of enjoying the cricket is via the radio, although the coming of digital TV to our area does now mean that I can watch the highlights again after several years of not really knowing what any of the players actually looked like.

Despite the best efforts of Aggers and Blowers, ably assisted by Tuffers (another one who "gets" it...), Vic Marks and "Sir" Geoffrey Boycott, I genuinely believe that TMS is not as much fun as it once was.

One or two of the new team seem a little more "smug" or pleased with themselves than I would prefer, and sometimes they seem far too obsessed with the politics or the technical details of the game itself which is, of course, not really the point with TMS. Oh, they always knew their stuff all right, we should never forget that, but they just didn't tend to dwell on it like some of these young whipper-snappers do.

The beloved might not quite fully understand the ins and outs of the game of cricket, but she does enjoy listening to the "Old Man's Chatter" (that jibe is directed at me, by the way, not the chatterers themselves...) of TMS on the radio during the summer.

Because, to some of us, all of those jolly japes, pranks, jokes, red buses, pigeons and cakes are what put the "Special" into "Test Match Special" and long may that continue...

Which brings us to the DRS, or Decision Referral System, as you might not yet know it as. Introduced to prevent the kind of Umpiring cock-up that would once have had dear old Fred chuntering on for days, and have Geoffrey helping you complete your "Boycott Bingo" card in the space of one sentence, it has rather dominated this summer's Test Match cricket season, and not necessarily for any of the right reasons.

In cricket, of course, the Umpire is the ultimate authority and is, without exception "always right" (except when he's getting it wrong, of course), and the DRS was brought in to "fix" the occasional blunder and prevent controversy.

Instead, of course, the coming of the white heat of new technology has caused as much trouble as it has helped solve with all sorts of decisions being made with its help which rather beggar belief and which have swayed the fortunes of the two sides involved this way and that so that nobody really knows what the "correct" decisions would have been any more.

Well, at least it has cut both ways... although whether you believe that does rather depend upon which side you happen to support. As ever, it seems that it is the "human element" which has made the whole process appear so very dodgy and yet perhaps just as many "howlers" have been overturned as lousy decisions have been underscored which, in the end, might just mean that it's far better to trust the umpire's (as the game always used to) and learn to live with the consequences.

Ah, but... Life moves on and we ought to embrace the future you might think, but in this instance I'm not so sure. After all, for me it was the polite and civil nature of the game of cricket (alongside all those brilliant statistics) that (if you'll forgive the pun) appealed.

To my mind, these modern sportspeople, well... they take the whole idea of playing what is, essentially, just a game, all far too seriously and, instead of just enjoying themselves and realising that they're being paid to play a game for a living, it all gets a bit surly and competitive and "important" somehow which rather goes against the spirit of the whole thing in my humble. After all, surely if you lose to someone who's played far better than you have, it's better to cheer them for their success and appreciate the skill they have shown and try to emulate them and come back better next time...?

I never did get the hang of competitive sport, did I...?

Mind you, it's the fans that are the worst for that. I only ever attended one test match and that was quite a civil day I seem to recall. Nowadays I look at the fans on TV and I'm very glad that I'm not joining them on the terraces and in the stands because they look like they'd frighten me to death... and don't get me started upon the noisy razzamatazz of Twenty20 or the one day game...

I'd rather sit in my garden, sip at a glass of crisp Pinot Grigio and listen to TMS any day of the week, no matter how much the fun has gone out of it... but I think I'll refer that opinion to you, the umpires.