Another Tribute To Ben Dirs

Here are some more masterful quotes from Ben Dirs (BBC text commentary) on the first test match between England and the West Indies...

Aaah, the English summer. The sound of leather on willow, the smell of freshly cut grass. Village folk dancing round the Maypole, attractive ladies in strappy tops, aggressive looking men with their shirts off drinking strong lager in town centres. Finding yourself nuzzling an unwashed armpit on the Tube in 50C heat. It's going to be another belter ladies and gents.

My colleague tells me Lord's has "the best drainage of any pitch in the northern hemisphere". Weirdo.

I have heard a rumour on Cricinfo that Monty is set to play. Like the way I've blamed it on Cricinfo if that's not the case?

Watching Test cricket again is like slipping into a Penguin Classic after seven weeks locked in a room with only the entire back catalogue of Nuts magazine to read.

Indeed, if Cook was a cook, he'd definitely be a no-nonsense Delia Smith rather than an "ooh, look at me" Heston Blumenthal.

"Just seen a helicopter fly past our office dragging the banner "tekcirc fo emoh eht - S'DROL" Any idea?"

So slip off your shoes under the desk, undo one button on your shirt/blouse and grab a couple of Lilts from the office fridge - And students - DO SOME REVISION!

Oh my giddy aunt! That's an absolutely shocking drop from Ganga at gully. Absolute lollipop. Morton, in shock, jumped in the air at second slip, a bit like Joe Frazier after getting punched very hard in the face by George Foreman back in the day.

Gloria! Gloria! In excelsis Deo! Bell is off the mark with a clip to mid-wicket for one.

Collymore goes through Bell like an Abrakebabra kebab

[About Paul Collingwood] All hail the Steve Davis of cricket (and I mean that in a very nice way).

He punches Plunkett through point for four before opening himself up and marmalising the Durham man over mid-wicket for another.

Not looking good folks, this game needs to be put out of its misery like the rabid badger it is turning out to be.

And for added measure, some snooker ones too...

This is like De la Hoya-Mayweather, except in evening dress and with sticks.

Maguire, I'm told, has a raft of nicknames. Originally, I thought my favourite was 'On Fire Maguire', but then I thought, if he's playing rubbish, it doesn't really work. So now I like 'Live Wire Maguire' instead.

He gets another go and slams home a red into the bottom right and it disappears like a rat up a drainpipe.

This is snooker at its most strange and its most hypnotic - watching this is like having some mushroom-induced dream.

The Scot looks like he's sat in a hospital waiting room anticipating a vasectomy.