Stay with cricket forever Richie, from the comfort of your home

Nine Network head David Gyngell has announced that the doyen of Australian cricket commentators, the great Richie Benaud, has been offered a role with the commentary team for the upcoming summer season, not from the Nine booth, but from the comfort of his Coogee home.

With all television and media company budgets coming under increasing pressure it is not known whether Gyngell’s move is an expense trimming manoeuvre, a way to squeeze more juice out of his prized lemon, or a device to deflect attention away from the rest of the commentary team.

Benaud is 83, an age where for anyone still wanting to work for a living there are few options, save for being a national party Senator, a pre-school traffic warden or an IOC board member. Or in Richie’s case, calling the cricket for Channel Nine.

In a field where commentators set themselves up for public ridicule simply by nature of what they do – and then make themselves even bigger targets by opening their mouths – Benaud stands out as one who has garnered consistent respect from fans.

This is for two reasons; what he has to say is usually insightful and sensible, and also because he doesn’t actually say too much – ascribing to the theory that the more one says the closer one gets to saying something stupid. A lesson clearly lost on most of his co-commentators.

Nine has been scaling down Benaud’s workload over recent seasons, also influenced last year by the after-effects of Richie stacking his 1963 Sunbeam Alpine into an eastern suburbs fence and ending up in hospital (despite reports to the contrary, neither Jodhi Meares or Buddy Franklin were involved in the accident).

For the stay-at-home viewer, this prospect of Benaud staying with the commentary team is an enticing one. Some Richie is better than no Richie at all, and some Richie is definitely better than more James Brayshaw.

For Richie himself, on the off chance that you’re scanning The Roar while chomping through your morning cereal, here’s a few other reasons why you should take up the Gyngell’s offer to work from home.

Firstly, no matter how well big Kerry looked after you all these years, I’m sure you could do with the coin. Everybody can always do with more. And judging by the look of that car after you took it off-road, either you’re still paying through the nose to get it restored or your insurance premiums are the size of New Zealand’s GDP.

Secondly, working from home is a pretty good lark. Hugh Hefner is on record as saying that a lot of his best work is done at home in his dressing gown. And James Hird has just shown how easy it is to avoid the workplace for a year and still come out a mil or so ahead.

Speaking from personal experience, after opting out of the corporate grind and setting up a business from home, it’s a real doddle. No more streams of people through your office complaining about everything under the sun and having to pretend that you care. You only have to deal with the cat, which is far, far easier – if you’re in a good mood she gets a friendly pat or if you’re a bit off she gets the arse outside.

In fact, the hardest thing by far about working from home isn’t the discipline around the work itself, but stopping yourself from wandering around the kitchen and getting stuck into the fridge. But Richie, frankly I don’t ever see you going down the Mark Cosgrove path.

I’m sure you don’t need me to point out the other benefits. Now that your old mate Tony Greig has gone, and Bill Lawry is mostly restricted to local Melbourne duties, you won’t need to go in and mingle with the remaining riff-raff.

And why should you? I’m sure they all tell you the right things to your face and brush your suits, but if they were actually listening to your advice, Ian Healey for example, they wouldn’t go on with all the crap.

Logistically, it should be easy enough at home to co-ordinate your lunch delivery with the Meals on Wheels lady, so that it’s slapped down in front of you at 1.05pm sharp, and have you all cleaned up again well before the 1.40pm afternoon session – and all this without having to endure Michael Slater’s excruciating lunch show.

So how about it Richie? On behalf of cricket lovers nationwide, do us all a favour and take up Gyngell’s offer to call the cricket from home.

I understand that you can’t work forever, but another 15-20 years or so would be good thanks.