TTFN CMJ of TMS

Listening to TMS which for so long meant listening to CMJ has been a pleasure. Whether in the back garden or on the Continent CMJ on TMS has been a constant more reminiscent of a Goliath than a David.

For decades I've tuned in to CMJ on Long Wave and was inspired to write a book recording my efforts to keep up with the Cricket between Shipping Forecasts while on holiday in France and Spain.'French and Spanish Cricket for Beginners' may not be everyone's cup of tea and toast with its irreverential flavour and curate's egg variability in taste, but it stemmed from my appreciation of CMJ et al.

I can't think of many radio programmes that act as the perfect backdrop to driving close to Sheer Khan cliffs with breathtaking views, through signal stealing gorges and wicket taking tunnels where the lovely lady riding shotgun is roused from her slumbers by shouts of 'Short' or 'Yorker. Bowls him'.

What other broadcast can have its transmission impeded by her Continentally interfered travelling companion of fellow Long Suffering Waves to have 'Here Comes Pollock' misinterpreted as 'Here comes Bollocks' explained to my eternal shame as 'It's just an introduction to A View from the Boundary'?

I know it's not the end of TMS but as with the passing of John Arlott and Brian Johnston you do begin to worry that another important brick in that boundary wall has gone, and we all know that boundaries can lead to disputes between the closest of neighbours. The polarisation of views can blind reasonable people into actions unbecoming of them freezing out those who do not wish to take part in or listen to a Radio 5 style phone-in rant.

Simom Barnes said it all much better in 'The Times' on Wednesday. He knew that he was privileged to have known CMJ well and knew him to be one in a million. I feel privileged too to have had one of those 'million radios' from which classical bowling actions (pictured) were described so classically 'with a voice brimming with love'.

Though not the paper's Correspondent CMJ was nonetheless The Guardian of TMS. Aggers is there to hold the fort and long may he continue so that I can listen via whatever form of technology ticks the boxes that good old fashioned CMJ and Long Wave did for all those years.

TMS - A life saver.

The sun is shining, Sir Geoffery is summarising and Aggers is texting like nobody's business. The kitchen is getting plastered, the conservatory is acting as a temporary kitchen and we can't get into the breakfast room because it is stacked to the ceiling with kitchen units. Sri Lanka are 82-3 at Lunch. Thank goodness for TMS.

Our digital weather station (pictured) is predicting rain. Things have gone up since the photo was taken. 94-3 for Sri Lanka, 12.9C and 998mbfor the conservatory. 'French and Spanish Cricket for Beginners' is in a void as far as Amazon's e-book ratings are concerned, barometrically stuck at 139. Like the temperature and England's bowlers it needs a boost. No pressure then. It is ironic as F'nSCfB reported on how stats from one dimension can influence another. Download it now from Amazon.com while figures are reading 20.9C, 1000 mb and 154-4, all of which are in accordance with the law of diminishing returns.

In July 2003 we were 233 kilometres from Clermont-Fd listening to the radio with England 233-4 in the Test against South Africa. Michael Vaughan was on 144, it was 17.45 French time, 22C and 435 miles gone. Instead of preventing the predicted batting collapse, Stewart had collapsed himself. The French road signs said that one in three deaths on the road are caused by tiredness. Stewart had been in a while so we were quite worried. The lovely lady wife who had been driving for some time gave a yawn making me less concerned about Stewart's welfare and more about mine.

She broke into song in an effort to stay awake. Serious and immediate action was called for. I adjusted the Climate Control with an inaudible twitch of my buttocks. The effect as intended was instant, like with smelling salts. Her grip on the wheel tightened instantaneously and the gritting of her teeth indicated that the emission was accomplished. The procedure could rival rock salt as a life preserver. Stewart wasn't given salt tablets as it wasn't cramp, he was given anti-inflammatories and a runner- McGrath.

Aggers commented that he was looking forward to the likely mayhem with the presence of a runner. He helped the good lady's concentration by talking dirty to her with expressions like 'Balls are jagging back'. I regretted that Peter Willey and Dickie Bird weren't umpiring as references to them would have helped her maintain her attention, conjuring up memories of his infamous 'Leg Over' broadcast with Brian Johnston. They did a memorial to Johnners on the radio. I'd recorded it on a tape that had Samuel Barber's 'Adagio for Strings' on it. We put on the tape when Radio 4's Long wave reception fizzled out. Both the tribute and the tune could be heard at the same time. Talk about a tear jerker - we had to pull over for fear of messing up the electrics and so the lovely lady wife could cry herself off to sleep.

Back to back hundreds for Jayawardene. 26.3C. No sign of rain.