For those with allegiances the Champions League has been compelling viewing. The tournament has enough of the right ingredients to be a rip-roaring success.
It has been wonderful to behold the wide-eyed wonder of, say, Max Waller, Somerset's novice leg-spinner, as he takes to the field in front of tens of thousands of spectators at Hyderabad and amid a cacophony way beyond anything that can be mustered by the PA system at a floodlit County Ground in Taunton. It was equally exhilarating to see his joy at his first-ball dismissal of Dwayne Bravo in Bangalore.
It was also fun to witness the celebration of my fellow columnist, Peter Trego – I would have bet the millions on offer to the Champions League winners that this would never be the case – when he duped VVS Laxman with his slower ball. In years gone by Trego would have been standing between some goalposts in October for a very paltry sum. Now he is in clover – he's writing for the Guardian website.
Taking the less parochial view it was also reassuring, though disappointing for West Country viewers, to see that it is still possible for a team from the Caribbean to be disciplined, motivated and successful. Trinidad & Tobago can manage that even if it is beyond West Indies. Trego and his team-mates wish T&T very well in their match with the Deccan Chargers tomorrow. They probably require a T&T victory if Somerset are to stay in the tournament.
But there is a but. The one aspect of the very welcome TV coverage that has me screaming is the intrusive, preposterous interview that takes place with a participating player/umpire/captain while the match is going on. We are supposed to be watching a life and death struggle out there – that is one of the attractions – and yet key participants are expected to fiddle with their earpieces, answer inane questions, chuckle at limp jokes while play is going on around them. At a stroke this process demeans the competition. How can the interviewee be giving his full attention to the game when bombarded by such trivia?
We can't blame the overseas broadcasters. Like Twenty20 itself this process was instigated in the UK. Sky's coverage of Twenty20 was soon littered with "It's Bumble here ... How's it going out there?" But it may have got worse. This week we have had a long homily from Harsha Bhogle about how wonderful it is that Marcus Trescothick has made the trip – fine sentiments, but the time to express them is not when Somerset's next captain is wired up at slip, awaiting a crucial catch.
Then we have switched to umpire Daryl Harper, who sounded as if he had been practising a few one-liners before the game. Harper and Bhogle soon indulged in a "hilarious" bout of repartee about their contrasting tonsorial qualities. (Harper has no hair; Bogle, it seems, has recently invested in some more.) Please let me watch the cricket and let Harper concentrate on his job in the middle. Remember again this is supposed to be a life and death struggle. The umpire should not be distracted.
When T&T were in the field against Somerset their captain, Daren Ganga, was wired up. He is a bright man and his team were in charge. He coped with the intrusion effortlessly. Nonetheless, it was preposterous for him to be interviewed by Ian Bishop as he marshalled his men. Maybe Bishop, a proud Trinidadian, might have finished the exchange with: "By the way, Daren, third man needs to be a little finer."
Please, let's leave the players alone until the match is over. Banish the mid-match interviews. The Champions League, after such a promising start, does not need such cheap gimmicks.
