Lessons from Sunny

Two things I must incorporate into my early morning routine while in England: check the weather forecast, and the tube website for service updates, before I step out. The extra information will help you avoid feeling cold and wet and getting stuck. Gone are the gloriously sunny, yet cool, days that greeted me when I arrived a week ago, though. Nottingham this morning was cold and grey with a drizzle that was steady enough to prevent cricket, but not to force people indoors.

There was a promotional event at the Park Plaza involving Sunil Gavaskar, and I was surprised to see that it was for a radio commentary service being hosted by Cricinfo. Press-conference etiquette demands that we keep our phones on silent, and so everyone scanned for the culprit when a ringtone - that of a child's voice - echoed around the room. A sheepish Gavaskar put his hand up and revealed that his ringtone was the voice of his grand-daughter saying "I love you so much."

Before the Q&A session with Gavaskar inevitably turned into a long barrage about whether India's PDU (public display of unity) was warranted, he spoke at length about commentating. His choice of best commentator was Richie Benaud, because of how dispassionate Richie was when he was in the commentary box.

Gavaskar spoke of how television commentary had changed over the years, telling of a time when commentators were encouraged not to say anything if they couldn't add to the pictures broadcast on television. To illustrate why that has given way to the present day, where commentators are urged to speak at every opportunity, Gavaskar told us what a producer once told them.

Imagine a setting in which the father and son are watching cricket on television in the living room. The lady of the house, uninterested in the game, is in another room, reading a book. She walks through the living room to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and on her way back, if the commentators are silent she would probably walk right through and continue reading. However, if a commentator is excitedly describing the action, the lady might just stop to watch what the commotion is all about. And if luck should have it, that ball could just turn out to be the last ball of the over, which means the lady might just catch a few advertisements. And we all know who makes the majority of the decisions when it comes to buying things for the house.

The fun part of the event wound up with Gavaskar telling us that he would have loved Twenty20 "because there would be only 20 overs of fielding" and reckoning that his approach to the game would have perhaps been like Rohit Sharma's - the classical batsman with the ability to hit.

The India and Bangladesh teams are also staying at the Park Plaza and security is tight. We are escorted up to the media room and then down to the lobby. In the elevator, the guard's walkie-talkie crackles and the voice at the other end informs him of two people walking up the stairs.

There was no surprise in the India-Bangladesh match, unlike the three before it in London. Trent Bridge was full of Indian supporters. It's a shame that India are unlikely to meet England in the tournament. It would have been bizarre to see an English venue packed with people not cheering for the home side. Perhaps Pakistan's fans will outnumber England's tomorrow at Lord's.

The cab driver, who has a grandfather in Ludhiana, is dropping me back to Victoria Centre and asks me if I plan to go out tonight. I have a couple of hours work left, so maybe on Sunday, I reply. He asks me to call him and says he'll take me to Nottingham's finest strip clubs and looks at me with surprise when I say I've never been to one. Mom, if you're reading this, I forgot to take his number.