Cricket on the BBC England - Pakistan first test.

Cricket on the BBC - England - Pakistan first test.

The summery shadows were lengthening over Old Trafford, the sun waning and dropping deeper into the warm embrace of a Manchester evening. Cricket returned to Old Trafford rather like a soldier returning from a bloody battle and, to all outward appearances, it looked as if nobody was even remotely interested. Row upon row of empty seats reminded you of an aching wound that refuses to heal. Cricket, in keeping with most spectator seats, has experienced much the same treatment as football, rugby and tennis, not exactly a victim of circumstances more of an obvious target of ridicule.

It shouldn't really be like this and yet it is. Ever since the announcement of the coronavirus lockdown, cricket knew what it was letting itself in for. Back in March cricket, although not entirely dependent on its commercial revenue for its existence, did feel as if it was sorely missing out on its summertime parade of sedate village green matches in the country, the County Championship and the familiar sprinkling of Test matches.

Many decades ago cricket could always rely on its Gillette Cup and its Benson and Hedges Cup for its knockabout fun and its limited-overs tomfoolery. But then with the passage of time, the hardened loyalists began to drift away if only because the fans who used to sit near the boundaries of cricket's Elysian fields found that the game had changed its fundamental format. Now cricket was all about men in helmets, rainbow coloured clothing and with the first test between England and Pakistan, players would be required to wear numbers on the back of their shirts. What sacrilegious nonsense? How on earth did that come to pass?

And yet cricket was back on the BBC. Yes, cricket was back. It was rather like discovering that England had won the cricket World Cup all over again and Ben Stokes was flinging his arms up in the air in sheer ecstasy. But cricket had returned to the BBC after an absence so lengthy it almost hurt. It felt as if you were welcoming back an old friend which of course you were. The only problem here is that this wasn't really the proper deal since we now had to be content with an hour of highlights on the BBC in the evening which isn't quite the same as the full-day broadcast.

But for those who revelled in the morning through to evening coverage that the BBC used to excel in, this felt like something of a betrayal. How we would listen to the dulcet tones of Jim Laker and Richie Benaud for as long as we possibly could because they were the voices of cricket: gentle, authoritative and re-assuringly persuasive?

They would almost whisper into the microphones in case some of us were still rubbing the sleep from our eyes. Every word and sentence would be measured and caressed, vowels and consonants rolled around in our mouths like a good port that had been left to mature in a cellar. But Laker and Benaud are now sadly no longer with us so the BBC gave us the immensely knowledgeable Simon Mann, whose recent history of cricket in England had been so deservedly acclaimed by the critics. Then there was Alison Mitchell, another cricket journalist of the highest order.

So after their victorious escapades against the once unbeatable West Indies, England settled down to tackle the far more challenging and daunting task of beating Pakistan. The memory of the great Imran Khan, now a foremost political activist and Prime Minister of Pakistan ripping through world-class batting attacks, must still send a shiver down the spines of many an Englishman. But Pakistan are still a force to be reckoned and their performance at Old Trafford has now left England teetering on the brink, if not quite on the point, of surrender.

After Shan Masood drove a sledgehammer through England's most destructive bowlers with a spectacular century of the finest technique and polish, England were clinging on in the hope that Pakistan would show just a touch of leniency. It would not be their day though.  Masood punished the loose ball with a whole art gallery of pulls, straight drives, sweetly timed cover drives, no small amount of lofted sixes with clipped and pulled cuts that raced towards the Old Trafford pavilion for four or were hooked immaculately to the boundary.

Pakistan were eventually if reluctantly removed for 326 all out when it looked as if they'd been quite happy to spend all night batting and only woken up in time for breakfast. England now faced an uphill struggle, digging deep into the resources for anything that could be accurately described as salvageable. But until today it looked as if this whole Test match was simply running away from them particularly after their mini first-innings collapse.

Both the likes of Dom Simbley, Ollie Pope, Jos Buttler, Dom Bess, Ben Stokes and skipper Joe Root seemed to be overcome by the occasion. All fell far too cheaply for anybody's liking and by the time that Pakistan had broken the hearts of every English batsmen with a delicious combination of seaming and late swinging deliveries that cut back lethally into the wickets of most of the English batsmen, it felt as if England had already said that enough was enough. England were bowled out for a meagre 169 all out and until Pakistan's capitulation yesterday in their second innings, victory will now have to be earned rather than deserved for Joe Root's men.

By late last night though cricket, rather like other sports, must have been feeling helpless, still without a voice and still crying out for their Barmy Army. Of course cricket thrives on its fan-driven encouragement, its boozy, boisterous and uproarious cheerleaders who cheer themselves hoarse when things are going well for the lads. They sing themselves into a drunken stupor, ear-splittingly noisy at times and then just resigned to whatever will be will be.

But when the cricketers of England came clomping into the dressing room complete with helmets that seem to belong only on an American football field, they will know they've been in a real contest. And then deep at the back of your mind you could still hear Jim Laker with his silken responses to a batsman at their height of their brilliance and bowlers who could hit the spot. Then there was Richie Benaud, all Australian understatement and endless wit. It was so good to have cricket back at the BBC even if it was for just over an hour or so. Welcome back BBC. Cricket has certainly missed you.