What happened on Sky during the blackout

Sir Ian Botham bristled. Grabbing the microphone in a ferociously tight grip, he thundered: "I just don't know what is going on out there. I'm sorry, can somebody tell me why on earth we only have one slip in when…"

A nervous producer tried to catch his attention.

Sir Ian covered the microphone and mouthed: "Medium rare. And no vegetables this time."

He resumed his tirade.

"In my day, we had 18 men around the bat in the first over of an ODI. Can you imagine telling Viv Richards to stand in a circle or behind a line or whatever this nonsense is?"

"And we never listened to this modern music or went on the dole, neither," he added.

Mike Atherton hissed at Sir Ian. "The microphones are off, Beefy. We're not live."

"Ooooh, but on the one hand, are we?" interrupted Nick Knight. "You just feel, don't you, that maybe, just maybe, the microphones might be live, or not live. It's a tricky one."

David Gower poured himself a glass of something cold and not altogether unacceptable.

"Apparently some sort of local difficulty with the broadcast wallah," he murmured. "Looks like we might as well have a day off. What a dreadful shame."

He melted out of the commentary box, passing Nasser on the way.

"Sorry I'm late," puffed the Essex legend. "I couldn't get a cab for love or money, and I had to give this bloke a few bob to give me a ride here on his donkey."

From the adjoining commentary studio came a great howl of rage, delivered in a familiar deep, rich, tone.

"He's said it again!" shouted Ravi Shastri. "Will he ever shut up about donkeys? I'm going round there and I'm going to smack him like a DLF tracer bullet."

Nasser looked at David Lloyd. Lloyd put down his Sudoku puzzle.

"Come on Nasser," he said. "We'd better start the car."