Please spare us our silly points

It has to be either Navjot Singh Sidhu or you, since Geoffrey Boycott is unavailable. We choose you because you are a) better-looking, b) equally well-dressed and c) less likely to divert attention from the game with curious catechisms that only Sidhu understands. Sometimes, even he cannot explain why a ball soars like an airhostess, unless he’s male chauvinist patka who calls women birds.

Also, your female presence might spark alive this flinty group of men. If you cannot bring messiers Arun Lal, Sanjay Manjrekar, Atul Wassan, Ian Smith and Danny Morrison to life, then no one and nothing can, least of all the game of cricket. Honestly, who said that each and every former cricketer is a compelling commentator?

And, you? We now realise, you’re Extraa Special. We can’t take our eyes off you (note: this chorus line is meant to be sung). Every batsman wishes the ball was more like you because then he wouldn’t take his eyes off it, either.

We know the effect you have on your fellow commentators: during the World Cup you made Venkatesh Prasad smile, Jeff Thommo blush and Krishnamachari Srikkanth shut up. Lal Co. are, also, likely to be awe-struck by you and your cricketing brain.

Actually, that’s the problem — the cricketing brain. It’s not that Manjrekar does not know what he is talking about, it’s that, often, we don’t. You won’t face that problem because you don’t know what you’re talking about. Or, if you do, you’ve been told to sit on it.

In case you accept our grovelling request, a few tips. Avoid flirting with ‘‘educated guesses’’. On Thursday, Manjrekar’s ‘‘educated guess’’ estimated that India would bat into the third morning and pile up more than 600 runs.

Avoid, repeating the same line of attack the whole day. Like Arun Lal, who spent the better part of his commentary stints on Wednesday admiring the New Zealand field placements and proclaiming for the nth time, ‘‘(they) are not allowing the batsmen to settle down’’.

Avoid disagreeing with your partner, it unsettles the viewer. If Manjrekar said Ganguly had a healthy ‘‘respect’ for leftie spinner Vettori, Wassan replied, ‘‘…that’s a first. He (Ganguly) has scant respect for left-arm spinners’’. Whom are we to believe?

Avoid too many flourishes. Here’s Morrison describing Parthiv Patel’s knock: ‘‘23 off 11 balls… that’s staggering.’’ No, Danny, Mathew Haydn hit 380 off 437 balls: that’s staggering.

Avoid, dry comments, go for the wry ones. Ask Ian Smith to help you: commenting on opener Lou Vincent’s preparations for the series, he remarked, that Lou had worked hard to be ‘‘mentally tough for the tour… (he) was chasing something through the bushes (in New Zealand),’’ (pause), ‘‘It didn’t help him much.’’ In the first innings, Vincent scored 7.

Avoid personal remarks. Maninder Singh (sounded like him) disapproved of Ganguly and Tendulkar speaking to Harbhajan on Friday afternoon. When you talk too much to the spinner, he revealed, ‘‘he looses his concentration — and his mind’’.

Impress upon your fellow commentators that cricket lies in the eye of the beholder. We don’t need it described. Unless there is something they see which we cannot. During the last four days, how many times did we hear comments such as: ‘‘He left the ball outside the off stump… that’s a bouncer, that’s a four, he’s lofted that one high…’’ They never stop: when you break for a commercial they’re talking, when we return, they’re still in mid-sentence.

Above all, inspire them. Currently, the most interesting comments are young Parthiv’s vowel movements: ‘‘Aaeeeiiioooouuu’’, ‘‘aaaaoooo,’’, ‘‘eeeeiiii’’. Let’s have more scores, targets, overs bowled — eloquence alongside your elegance, some fun along with the fundas. Please.

PS: Spare a few moments to teach Narendra Modi telly-manners. Asked about Gujarat, Modi replied, ‘‘We have only one word — development, development, development.’’ He divested himself of the microphone and all responsibility. Then he got up and left (BBC World).