Five Live x Radio Four = Twenty20

Mike Selvey is among many high profile cricket pundits publicly lamenting the perceived dumbing down of Test Match Special on Radio Four. According to the one-time TMS summariser, to bring in commentators from Five Live with little knowledge of the "cadences of Test match cricket" is "disrespectful" and "superficial". Probably appropriate that those disrespectful and superficial types over at Five Live took charge of the coverage of Alan Stanford's Twenty20 for $20m then. It was of course the most disrespectful and superficial sort of cricket imaginable.

But Five Live's bubbly and excited coverage was good. Really very good actually, even if reassuringly aided and abetted by TMS stalwart Jonathon Agnew.

Andrew Strauss, already marching eloquently towards the media career his education merits, makes a good and enthusiastic pundit - similar to rugby's Will Greenwood. And Agnew himself put in a sterling shift having bravely got over his hatred of all things brash early in the piece. When he mooted that this monstrosity might be the garish future of international cricket - and that, shock of shocks, he was quite looking forward to the game - it was almost as if listeners had eavesdropped on a cricket commentators' self help session: 'Hi, my name's Jonathon and I'm battling an addiction to disparaging anything that modernises cricket'.

Arlow White got right into the spirit of things too. "Because it's Twenty20 cricket and not a Test match," he explained to his summariser, "can I call you Viv instead of Sir Vivian Richards?" Clearly for White, this was taking the notion of a shortened game of cricket to it's logical extension.

Highlight of the night's coverage? The pre-match interview with Kevin 'picture of integrity' Pietersen. "Personally the money doesn't matter to me," the England skipper espoused in another attempt to make this cash cow butchery look like a matter of national pride. Comforting words from a South African multi-millionaire one feels.

According to some figures being recklessly bandied about, 700m people were tuned in worldwide to the match. And yes, the small percentage of those who were tuned in on Five Live got a thoroughly respectable broadcast. But no, the magical wit of of TMS seems to be the preserve of Radio Four. Mike Selvey can rest assured that some things are best done old fashioned.

Ultimately though, good as Five Live's coverage of a dull and superficial match was, Strauss, Agnew and co couldn't quite stop me switching over to Match of the Day.

"We" simply don't approve

As England eventually romped to a 5-1 victory over Kazakhstan, how depressing to hear Clive Tyldesley resort to that lowest common denominator of sports commentary - the first person plural.

"We're playing with fear in midfield," he trilled. "That dreaded F-word is back" and "our passing is not sharp enough just yet."

And then shock of shocks, we reached half time and the otherwise respectable Steve Rider was at it too, though marginally more appropriately: "Will there be goals for England in the second half? We had better hope so," he enthusiastically intoned.

Really, Steve. You should know better. Viewers might expect it from Sam Allardyce, but from you?

Of course, the idea behind straying away from the previously-dreaded "we" is impartiality. And a sound basis to launch apparently unbiased criticism.

ITV have apparently decided that the interests of their viewers - most of whom are doubtless peddlers of the first-person plural themselves when watching England play football - would be best served by mimicry.

Perhaps it is even an effort to buoy Rio Ferdinand's England team. By suggesting that "we" are all in this together and that "we" must work much harder in midfield commentators can expand the realms of the England football team into living-rooms up and down the country. That'll help bang in the goals.

But then, perhaps this is a deeply unfair criticism. After all, the England football team operate much like consumers in economic downturn - they are spooked by what people say about them. When Robert Peston, the BBC's business editor, tells people that people aren't spending money because they're worried about the credit crunch, people duly stop spending money because they're worried about the credit crunch.

Likewise, when Clive Tyldesley tells his audience - which apparently includes the players - that "we're playing with fear," over and over and over again, lo and behold Wayne Rooney, Frank Lampard and even Theo Walcott play with fear.

So perhaps Clive and co really are part of the team. They certainly appear to do as much to affect England's play as Fabio Capello can.

Paralympics paralysed by the red button

It would be nice to think that the BBC wouldn't need to justify itself to us with items like 'why the paralympics matter' on the BBC Sport website. But then when you have resigned one of the biggest sporting competitions in the world to the depths of the red button though perhaps you do have to begin to account for your actions.

It's difficult enough to tell that the games are even available to terrestrial viewers and doubtless some of the 400-plus staff that the BBC sent to Beijing for the Olympics didn't even know that there was a second sporting festival to follow. One can well imagine the scene as production confront Claire Balding in downtown Beijing: "Er Claire, a favour..." "Oh yes, what's that then?" "Well, do you think you could stay out here for another three weeks or so creating for the red button and the website? Tell you what, to show we're serious we'll even give call ourselves 'BBC Sport - the paralympic broadcaster', how does that sound?"

Credit is due to the BBC, they will certainly cover the paralympic games with the same sort of verve they did for the older brother. They'll just have to remind us that they're doing so. Would the games have been better served by continuous mainscreen coverage on Sky Sports 3? And if the Beeb are to stay out in Beijing, they shouldn't be embarrassed to do so. The games will be hugely impressive, massively entertaining and great fun - the BBC should make more of the opportunity to broadcast them or the BBC Sport stable will continue to weaken.

The Annabel and Greg show as Andy hits new heights

What a pleasure it is to see Annabel Croft back on our screens. Yes, someone in Sky Sport's production team should ask her to change shampoo, buy a comb and find something other than the armless tops she's so fond of but you can't beat Mrs Croft for a good old fashioned BBC accent. Her glance would wilt flowers too and, sat next to Mr Rusedski (whose accent is about as British as Kevin Pietersen's) she had plenty of chance to use it.

"That's why I believe he's going to be number one in the world!" Rudsedski roared as Andy Murray blazed his way into the US open final. "And that's why I believe he's going to be beat Mr Federer" he continued, "I know I picked Federer to win, but Murray's going to!" concluded Rusedski as Annabel Croft rolled her eyes.

Of course, Rusedski knows all about the glorious trappings that accompany making the final of the US open. In 1997 the big serving Canadian export was runner up, beaten by Pat Rafter in the Flushing Medows final. BBC sports personality of the year awards followed and, well, that was about it really. Rusedski hit the wall about as hard as one of his aces down the T and never really looked like he merited his world number four ranking (a spot Murray will achieve at the conclusion of the US Open). Still, as Murray exchanged small talk after the game with the film star Will Ferrell - carefully televised by Sky's host broadcaster - Rusedski could contemplate how best to stretch his arm round Annabel's tender neck. I know where I'd rather be.

Those Olympic Opening Titles Explained

What were they thinking? The BBC apparently forgot that being the jewel in the crown of the metaphorical 'crown jewels' of Sport Broadcasting, the Olympic Games were up to them to deliver in glorious technicolour.

Or so it would seem from the frankly bizarre opening titles which display Monkey, Sandy and Pigsy (the least athletic of the three) on a perilous journey to the Bird's Nest stadium. The titles were actually the work of the team behind animated band, the Gorillaz. Damon Albarn (of Blur fame) wrote the music and his mate Jamie Hewlett penned the characters, no doubt at hideous cost to the licence-payer.

Still, better to have what BBC marketing called a "commitment to truly groundbreaking creative work" than, oh, I don't know, a classy stream of vintage Olympic moments, or a representation of more than six of the Olympic sports. Great Britain have currently shown special prowess in cycling, rowing and sailing but not once does Monkey get on his bike, Sandy seems never to contemplate a quick stint in the dingy and as for Pigsy, well, he'd sink your average double-scull.

So, what do they all mean? (In order of appearance)

Pigsy: is clearly the brawn of the operation. And it is he who dismisses One Eyed monster (see below) for good with a well executed hammer throw. Err, except his expertise appear also to lie in pole vault and high bar. Perhaps 2008 is the Chinese year of the pig then. No, that came and went in 2007. One gets the feeling that Pigsy takes shit from no man. He is the symbol of China's bloody minded determination to make these games a success.

One Eyed Monster: Looks to be the finest sprinter on show and despite not being given a good lane draw is bearing down hard on Monkey. One suspects that One Eyed Monster is the symbol of defeat. Thus, among other things, Monkey is victory, snatched from the jaws of defeat in order that he might ride away speedily on his cloud. Now if that isn't technological doping, I don't know what is.

Big snake: Massive intimidatory presence and global menace. Could be representative of international doping scandals.

Monkey: Hero of the piece. Well drilled sprinter, champion cloud rider and fine javelin thrower. Monkey saves the day with a quite remarkable javelin throw which lodges between the sharp teeth of One Eyed Monster after demonstrating a curious judo-cum-Graeco-Roman-wrestling manouevre which frees him from apparently pointless giant egg. Symbol of good overcoming adversity and evil. A bit like watching an Ethiopian marathon runner limp home through Chinese smog.

Sandy: Swimming and diving maestro. Token humanoid in a world of animalian champions and worthy claimant of champagne moment when, matrix-style, he delivers a bone-shuddering roundhouse kick to the face of Big Snake. Sandy is the people's hero for the people's republic.

Professional atheletes,amateur commentary

There is nothing quite like amateur commentary to ruin a decent highlights package. There sat the very tidy Gabby Logan putting together an equally tidy edition of Games Today on the BBC, and well, what a day it had been for team GB. Chris Hoy had raced to victory in the men's sprint, Victoria Pendleton had done exactly the same for the girls, a very polite Jamaican named Germaine Mason had won high-jump silver for Great Britain and Christine Ohuruogu had slugged her way through the 400 metres final to win a gold that glittered almost as brightly as her smile.

It was yet another day to savour, that is until Mrs Logan invited Christine Ohuruogu to commentate on the closing stages of her final. "What was going through your mind at this point?" she asked as VT rolled. Nothing. Silence. Then loud rustling noises as Ohuruogo fondles her gold medal which is clearly hanging next to her microphone. "Err. I don't know really", Ohuruogo muses no doubt to handwringing and headshaking behind camera.

When the Olympic champion does eventually manage to string together a sentence or two to describe her race it transpires that she's telling us how well she ran in the semi-finals. Pity the BBC had only cued up VT for today, the greatest minute of Ohuruogo's career, and not the previous day's race then.

Perhaps Mr Mason would be more illuminative. In honour of his trip to the studio, the work experience kid had been forced to climb into the rafters of the studio and affix a sticker at 2 metres 34 centimeters up to show just how high our athlete had leapt to claim silver. Surely the least Mason could offer would be a brief description of how long his legs felt as he approached the bar, or perhaps his impressions of the conditions underfoot in the Bird's Nest.

Nope. Roll VT. More embarassing silence. Oh, hang on, that sounds like Gabby giving Mason a quick kick to remind him that he's commentating here. "Well, me coach told me to..." Too late, Germaine. You had your chance, we've got to cut to a set piece showing Matthew Pinsent at the beach volleyball. Still, thanks for the gold medal and thanks for coming in. We're all very proud of you. Perhaps stick to jumping over bars and not through hoops.