Meet Ricky the broadcaster

There's now a pretty clear and not unpleasant path laid out for most Australian Test captains once they call stumps: release an autobiography that's the size of a house brick but light on controversy, take your pick of the many corporates eager to strike up an alliance, and slip into the comfort of the Channel Nine commentary booth.

Richie Benaud, Bill Lawry, the Chappells, Mark Taylor, all partook in that rite. Allan Border politely declined Nine's overtures and joked recently that it probably cost him a fortune. Steve Waugh marches to the beat of his own drum and thus is rarely seen outside of book signings. Michael Clarke has broken new ground this summer by grabbing the microphone before he's actually done as his country's cricket leader.

Perhaps we can be thankful that Ricky Ponting forged a new path altogether, signing with the Ten network for their nascent free-to-air coverage of the Big Bash League. Last season it became immediately apparent that he had a knack for insight, a tendency perhaps at odds with the current modus operandi at Nine.

Two people, that's all it takes. You don't need more than that, especially while there's a game in progress. Hopefully at least one of them has done something momentous or interesting with their life; ideally both have. Crucially, one needs to be good at asking questions of the other - questions that yield insights and stimulate thought.

That's my formula for sports chat, and let's be honest, that is what a lot of cricket commentary is - people chatting away as a game happens. For a long time cricket fans have banged their heads against the wall about this issue because TV commentary analysis is so shallow, description uninspired, and the whole thing is so often held ransom by the worst crime of all broadcasting - "banter".

There's always hope, though. Ponting is many things to many people but I feel like we can now say without any doubt that he is also cricket's most promising new broadcaster. His much-publicised interrogation on Tuesday night of Melbourne Stars recruit Kevin Pietersen, who had been ribbed by Ponting for weeks about the looming interrogation but still didn't seem to believe it could unfold the way it did, was compelling television.

If you didn't see it or only read the money quotes, seek it out, you won't be disappointed. Pietersen stumbled over questions, he was egged on to unleash his ego, he was made to look vulnerable and a little bit sad, he talked himself up, he talked others down, he told what turned out to be fibs, and generally gave one of the more absorbing TV sports interviews in recent memory.

There are a couple of questions worth considering out of this event: was Ponting v Pietersen more enthralling because they're professional equals and sharers of mutual respect, or is that just a secondary consideration to the fact that Ponting apparently possesses a previously unidentified knack for drawing answers out of people?

At the very least you could say that their exchange made most of us stop what we were doing and turn up the volume. Cricket talk on TV, more likely these days to drive even loyalists spare, was suddenly enthralling. Ponting pushed, Pietersen delivered the gold - a bleeding heart, but a heart nonetheless. It got me wondering whether this is something that Ponting could pull off with other guests. He was so good at it that you didn't even notice he had abandoned any pretence of discussing the game at hand. Elsewhere this summer, even Ten haven't managed that balancing act as often as you'd hope.

It seemed vindication, too, for those of us who think that commentary boxes are overcrowded. Two voices are enough, even during T20 games. In Australia this season Nine has occasionally had up to four voices firing away at once, the end result of which is something close to having a dinner date spoiled by a nearby table full of gassed-up corporates.

Theoretically it's so easy, though: one person talking, the other one listening and asking questions. Just like - and TV producers cringe at this thought but they shouldn't - radio. One-on-one discussion is the simplest TV format, and one of the oldest, and yet so often we overlook its power. Ian Ward does it for Sky, Ponting's now doing it for Ten. Fans rave about both of them. Maybe there's a hint there for TV producers.

At the very least cricket has found itself a potentially high-calibre broadcaster in Ponting, and perhaps he will get further opportunities to administer grillings the likes of which Pietersen experienced. You'd certainly hope so. Maybe Ponting is something different altogether from his predecessors, a kind of Frost-Chappelli. Let's just hope we find out.