Crazy Talk

There’s a continuity announcer on BBC1 at the moment that really gets on my tits.

His sole purpose is to clearly segue one programme into the next – but he's never let such a small detail hold him back. Each link sounds like he’s emptied a bag of marbles into his mouth just prior to broadcast and is determined to not let any fall out.

His voice has the timbre of a man recovering from intense dental work. He becomes more incomprehensible with every passing link – and once you’ve tuned into his strange enunciation it's very hard to tune out. It’s like a one-man mission to deliver each sentence as you’d least expect it.

To be fair, other channels often have it much worse. Tune into BBC Three of an evening, for example, and the links are more than likely voiced by someone with suitably yoof credentials, but absolutely no idea of where to put the stresses in any given sentence. It’s as if they just picked someone up off the street, thrust a microphone into their face and said “READ THIS”.

I’m not saying that every continuity announcer should speak in R.P. – but they should at least have a tone that’s pleasant to listen to. Failing that, it would just be nice if they could deliver a sentence intelligibly. Why do they employ voiceover artists who can barely speak? It’s crazy talk.

(I'm starting to sound like a caller on Jeremy Vine's radio show.)

At the other side of the spectrum is BBC’s veteran ‘Voice of the Balls’, Alan Dedicoat. Maybe he overplays his excitement – surely nobody is that enthused by numbers – but at least you can always understand what he’s saying.

I like to picture him at parties, reeling off facts about digits one to forty-nine. Taking down his phone number must be tedious.

I wonder if in moments of extreme passion Dedicoat screams "It's time to release those big-money balls". Actually, it's probably best not to think about it.