Back to the studio – what makes a TV dream team?

Love them or loathe them, the pundits can make or break your World Cup, writes Alan Tyers

Smoothie host

Desmond Dishingtonlynam, popularly known as Dishy Des, is the benchmark. We are looking for a languidly raised eyebrow, an alluring half-smile, a murmured witticism and, when England inevitably lose in distressing fashion, a reassuring gaze direct into the camera and direct into the nation’s aching heart.

The thinking person’s crumpet, he would not be kicked out of bed for eating crisps. As it happens, he is not in bed: he is strolling languidly out of a casino at 2am with his bow tie raffishly undone after doing rather nicely at baccarat.

England tub-thumper

Cut this pundit – Ian Wright fits the bill – and they are going to bleed red and white. Was given a tub to thump in rehearsals for the big game, but ended up smashing it into matchwood because they just care so bloody much about England.

Very keen on passion, standing up and being counted, and letting that foreigner with the expensive haircut know that you are there early doors. Win or lose, will be almost totally incoherent by the final whistle.

Lovable idiot

He is confused about which team England are playing: it is definitely one of the Souths, but is it South Korea or South Africa? He is pretty sure it is not Southampton, because he was down there for the golf only yesterday and he don’t recognise any of the lads.

After an early setback with pronouncing the opposition centre-half ’s name, he has gone for the safety-first option of just referring to every foreign player as “the big fella”. Knows that if these lot were any good they would be playing in the Premier.

The analyst

Known to fellow pundits as ‘The Professor’ or ‘The Tactician’, because he nearly got a CSE in Geography and he knows that 4-4-2, 4-3-3 and even the 3-5-2s of this world all add up to 10, plus a goalie, and that makes 11.

Fond of expressions such as ‘false nine’, ‘high press’ and ‘medium press’, although did get muddled recently when waxing lyrical about Moldovakia’s “Corby trouser press”. Has been given an expensive piece of touch-screen technology to play with so he can trace out tactical lines and runs. The Lovable Idiot has got hold of it and drawn something inappropriate.

Elder statesman

Has forgotten more about football than most of us will ever know, which is not entirely ideal for a role in which a person is supposed to communicate their knowledge and experience.

Can remember when they played two at the back, and when Sir Stanley scored a hat-trick on a white horse, but regrettably not too much about what happened during the first half of this match. Finds himself increasingly disgusted by modern inventions such as the false 10, the back-pass rule and women’s lib.

Scotsman

Furious. Absolutely furious. That’s Graeme Souness.

The fearless reporter

The unluckiest member of the team: has to do the actual work of shoving a microphone in the face of footballers and managers to try to get them to say something coherent.

It was once a job open only to people called Geoff or Brian who had cut their teeth as reporters on The Hull Daily Examiner or The Wigan Disappointment, but TV is now using recently retired female football internationals, who are just as likely to ask a probing question but are also at significantly less risk of being shouted at or throttled.

Sophisticated foreigner

Looks like he should be the cover star of Vogue Italia. the likes of Fabio Cannavaro (above) are smouldering, they are pouting, they are inspiring a million daydreams of riding around Rome on the back of a Vespa while smoking extravagantly and stopping for and an intimate adult discussion. Unfortunately, the last bit will have to be conducted in sign language because, disastro massivo, nobody checked to see if he can speak the English before putting him on TV.