Juggling the balls

Watching the first couple of FA Cup draws of the season, the words that spring to mind are 'bloody shambles', Glenn Hoddle looked like his own waxwork and his jokes were marginally less funny. If that's what religion does for you, then lead me to the virginal sacrifice. Bobby Robson just seemed old and out of touch, which seems to be an opinion shared by Barcelona's supporters. This must have been down to that pillock Ray ' give it another twirl' Stubbs. Fancy asking the manager (for the moment) of one of the top sides in the world to enthuse about the dog's breakfast that is now the draw for our premier cup competition. No wonder the poor old dear looked lost for words.

Old Mother Kelly was at his worst, which is a difficult feat to achieve. Whether or not the bit where Robson forgot to put two of the balls in the draw was staged is irrelevant - it looked crap, therefore it shouldn't have happened.

I am still convinced that the machine they use is a rebuilt industrial grinder, such is the noise it makes Whatever point there was to having the thing made of perspex is lost by the fact that you don't now get to see what ball has been picked out, anyway. I know the FA want to try and show it isn't a fix, but these balls could be totally blank for all we know. At least in the draw's 'two old duffers behind a table' incarnation you got the odd glimpse of a number.

Then for the fourth round they wheeled out Peter Shilton, looking as if there was a bookie behind him, and Jim Montgomery, who's legendary in Sunderland and unknown everywhere else.

BBC take note, if you want to turn the draw into an occasion then you need people with some personality and charisma Stubbs, Hoddle, Kelly, Shilton, Montgomery and anybody named Robson are not your men. Neither, in case you were thinking of it, are Baddiel and Skinner. They were funny once, but their single joke is now tiresome. And if I see Dale Winton there in any capacity I shall scream.

They can get rid of that tombola thing. They can get rid of the plastic monstrosity that is Ray Stubbs. What they can do with Kelly needs an imagination far more warped than mine. They can get rid of the collection of minor celebrities and vacuous prats wanting to be on the telly that make up the audience.

All they need is a National Lottery-type machine to dispense the balls and Lord Desmond Lynam to read the ties out. No gimmicks, no faded footballers and especially no members of the audience. More importantly, it'll give Des something to do now that Sportnight has bitten the dust.

Richard O'Hagan