The Observer

Commentators are like goalkeepers: When they do their job well, people rarely talk about them. But when they slip up and get it wrong, they are prime fodder for a good kicking. It just goes with the territory.

You need a thick skin to stand in the firing line between the posts, and the same is true for those behind the mic. No matter how good you are, there will be days when you make a fumble - and then all you can do is put your hard-hat on and accept your punishment!

I've never underestimated how hard it is to be a commentator because I've learnt from my irregular dalliances with the audio/visual media that it is one of those jobs that is much tougher than it looks.

Talking about your favourite subject sounds like a great job - and it is. But doing it well in a way that connects with the millions of people listening is a bit of an art.

So I was more than a little apprehensive when I was asked to join ESPN Star Sports' team for the Belgian Grand Prix, sharing a commentary booth as the 'expert' (crikey. No pressure) alongside main man Steve Slater.

Murray Walker © LAT

Star Sports is the channel that broadcasts Formula One to Asia. Yes, the whole continent. Apparently, 50 million households tune in for every race across China, India, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Singapore and so on. Gulp.

Now, I'm no broadcaster and I don't pretend to be. I'm much more comfortable behind a keyboard. But when you're asked to be a guest co-commentator for a major TV station, first you are flattered and then you think, 'what a great opportunity'. I had to give it a go.

But the enormity of what I'd taken on really hit me about half an hour before the start of qualifying last Saturday. Steve and I had settled into our booth, finding the right channel on our TV monitors and checking the 'talkback' connection to producer Sanjeev Palar over our headphones.

Up until this point, my mind had somehow blanked out the size of the audience I was going to talk to. Finally, it was dawning on me!

As the Q1 session began, studio anchorman Steve Dawson handed over to Steve beside me. We were on - and I just had to get on with it.

Steve and I had discussed the topics we had to cover during the show, the most prominent, of course, being the McLaren FIA verdict. We had discussed in detail our personal views on the whole affair, and worked out what we could and could not say on air. I'd also prepared by focusing my thoughts on what I knew and felt about the 11 teams and 22 drivers in F1.

But once you are on air, notes are of limited value. They are useful background, but that's all. You have to talk to the TV pictures to ensure that what you are saying is relevant to what the viewers are seeing. You don't have time to be constantly checking notes.

A commentator has to trust in his instincts, that he is going to say something both useful and meaningful on any subject, team or person that appears on the screen.

And that's why it is such a hard job - because it is so instinctive. Because it requires cast-iron faith in yourself. So could I really do this?

Once qualifying had started, I stopped thinking about the size of the audience. You don't really have time. All your concentration goes into reacting to what you are seeing and what you are going to say next. There's little room for anything else.

Early on during that session I found it really hard to avoid rambling. Rather than say something in four sentences, I was doing it in eight. I was also horribly self-conscious of the amount of ums and errs I was inserting between words.

My voice sounded odd to me, as I realised how far away I was from being a professional broadcaster. Steve is a natural who also has years of experience at this game - and you could tell.

But even the pros have trouble sometimes!

Fernando Alonso during qualifying © XPB/LAT

Just as we were reaching the climax of Q3, Steve began to croak. He'd a frog in his throat and was gasping for some water. He frantically indicated me to cover for him.

This was 'trousers-on-fire' time, but from the tone of my voice you might have thought my strides were barely smouldering. Then I made the gaff I'd been dreading.

Alonso had recovered from his spin on his first run in Q3, and was approaching the new Bus Stop on his second run. This was his final chance to avoid starting a disastrous 10th on the grid - a big moment of the weekend.

What I wanted to say was "can Alonso pull it out of the bag?" But instead, what came out was "can Alonso pull his bag out?" Would that be a supermarket carrier bag, a hold-all or what? And once he does pull it out, exactly what use will it be as he negotiates the chicane and blasts for the line?

Using a hackneyed cliche is bad enough. To mangle it into utter nonsense as I had managed was just horrible. I ploughed on because I had to - but I was inwardly groaning.

Fortunately, Steve had by now recovered his voice and set alight to his trousers to see us through to the end.

As we went off air, presenter Dawson's voice came over our headsets: "Great job guys. But Damien, what was that about pulling bags out?" Everyone laughed. This time I outwardly groaned! It would be a running joke for the rest of the weekend.

Later, I watched our qualifying show back in my hotel room. I left it on in the background while I checked my emails, but my blood ran cold when the programme reached my 'bag' moment and I cringed all over again.

Raceday. The nerves were boiling away nicely as we approached the start of the programme.

Star Sports' F1 race coverage is preceded by an hour-long studio-based build-up show. Once again, Steve Dawson presents but is also joined by the stunning Paula Malai Ali for the Sunday.

The show strikes a good balance between the serious and fun sides of F1, covering something like the fallout of the spy scandal verdict alongside lighthearted features such as producer Sanjeev's report on F1 motorhomes - including David Coulthard's personal toilet!

As a viewer, I'd never really given too much thought into the preparation that goes into these pre-shows. But of course a lot of thought and effort goes into the content, and it all has to be precisely timed to switch from one thing to the next.

Star Sports presenter Paula Malai Ali © Reuters

It was fascinating to watch and listen to it all come together. Steve and Paula kept to the script, but their experience allowed room for a bit of banter and the show passed with the right combination of entertainment and hard news.

What really struck me was how they could be so relaxed talking to camera with Sanjeev giving various instructions and countdowns to ad-breaks in their earpieces. This was something I had struggled with during qualifying. I was having enough trouble talking in sentences that made any sense as it was.

Getting involved in the pre-show settled my nerves, with Steve and Paula reading out a couple of viewers' questions for me to answer (fortunately I didn't have to actually appear on screen - good face for radio and all that). The incredibly relaxed and good-humoured atmosphere among the team had settled the nerves as we prepared to take over for the commentary.

After qualifying, Steve Slater had given me a few tips to help me improve and settle down. He'd suggested we talk about the race as if we were having a conversation about it down the pub. But at the same time I needed to project my voice better and not be afraid to get excited (which I don't do down the pub, by the way). Time to take the lighter fuel to the trousers, I thought.

Just as Murray Walker used to, Steve likes to stand up as he commentates. He says it helps him project his voice better, so I decided to do the same. If anyone could have seen me I might have looked a bit daft. But that's the point: no one could see me. And it really did make the difference.

I found the race much easier to talk about and the experience of qualifying had taught me a lot. I felt much more relaxed, and I even got used to talking and listening to Sanjeev at the same time.

During one of the ad-breaks, Steve popped out to the loo. "I hope he comes back soon," I said to Sanjeev. "Don't worry, if he doesn't you can pick it up when we come back on air," he replied. I was amazed at his confidence in me.

"Thirty seconds," his voice called over my headphones. Oh Christ. "Fifteen seconds." Oh f***. The door opens, Steve comes back in, smiles, puts his headset on, Sanjeev cues him in and off he goes. Thank God.

But it was the only butt-clenching moment of the race for me. The 44 laps flew by and I really enjoyed myself.

So is it the start of a glittering career in broadcasting? Somehow I doubt it. But it did give me a great insight into the world of TV and how much fun it can be to work in.

Like so much in life, there are probably a lot of people out there who could do it. But it's doing it well that's the hard bit.

As for me, was I any good? Impossible for me to say. But I think I pulled it out of the bag...