EASEE peasee puddin' n' pie. In a week of Manchester United magnificence (how I hated keying in those three words), Liverpool ruthlessness and Chelsea resilience, plus England's rickety, jittery mediocrity to eke past Bangladesh in the Cricket World Cup, oh how it was to be entertained by a simple nursery verse.

Now before you carp at what could possibly topple the bamboozling sorcery of Red Devil Ronaldo, or the sheer brute force of Chelsea's tank-like Michael Essien, or, for that matter, the child-like way in which Monty Panesar still celebrates capturing a wicket, then the above line from the kindergarten rhyme was employed by Britain's foremost sports commentator Sid Waddell.

Let's explain. Darts does not get a good press from this columnist. Despite plaintive protestations by my sports-desk peers, I just cannot fathom its attraction. Everyone likes darts? No they bloody well don't. Not here, not now, not never. Darts isTEDIUM CITY.

But the sport of arrers', well sorry, the pastime, does have at its volume-piercing helm, the vocal volcano that is Waddell. If anyone should be coated in aspic and saved for generations down the line for their services to television broadcasting it is the North-Easterner, who, I understand, once studied classics.

He straddles television talking-heads like a titan, a Hercules of hype, a colossus of commentary. The aforementioned easee peasee puddin' n' pie' outburst was just a snatch of commentary I managed to detect from Waddell's smack-in-the-face verdict on Phil The Power' Taylor's dismantling of yet another opponent, this time the hapless Peter Manley, in the weekly Darts Premier (sic) League duel.

Waddell's yell finished with and make 'em cry'. Combined with the camera close-up on the vanquished Manley, it was sheer small-screen enchantment. Words and pictures melding together to form the perfect image.

It's a gift that seldom comes to fruition amid commentators wishing to be clever, witty, truthful or understated. It's a talent which so often eludes other current telly wordsmiths.

Take Clive Tyldesley. Blessed with watching Manchester United's 7-1 rout of Roma, whose defending was straight out of a bambino's backyard, he failed miserably to capture the magic of the moment. It's as if Tydesley, who can also be heard screaming blandishments about a deodorant in ads preceding ITV's coverage of the UEFA Cup, peaked far too early back in 1999 when he almost exploded in describing Man U's Lazarus recovery to beat Bayern Munich and lift the European Cup and thereby complete an unprecedented treble.

Now if only Sid had taken time off his darts stint to be at Old Trafford the other night.

Better still, presuming that the May 23 climax of this year's European Cup is graced by a brace of English teams, why not get Sid to do the business. Who better than to have the antiquity of Athens, Acropolis et al, for inspiration?