Production Room BTS: A Historic Glenn Maxwell 201* & the 'Switcher's' Struggle

Being part of the production room during Maxwell's historic 201 wasn't easy, for Neel Saud.

Allow me to describe my profession. I am one of the crew members who broadcast international cricket. I sit at a machine that connects all cameras, graphics, and transitions and I switch between these elements. So sometimes I'm called a switcher. The machine I operate during cricket matches is a monster machine called a vision mixer, so I'm also called a vision mixer operator. I listen to the director and press buttons, so some people call me Piano Man. Many names, one profession.

In short, whatever you see on live TV is through a machine I operate. Which means, I have no time to chill. During cricket matches, I listen to the crew and commentators in my earpiece, my eyes rove around monitors and my hands are all over the vision mixer. It's a sensory overload.

And it's never been more so than during Match 39 of the ongoing ICC World Cup 2023.

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It started as a regular work day, a regular match. No big deal.

The crew was hopeful that the Australia vs Afghanistan match at the Wankhede in Mumbai would end earlier than usual. The crew is always hopeful. And predictions ran high: the match between Afghanistan v. Australia will be a short one.

I like such predictions. Shorter matches mean less work. In broadcast, we have a saying 'a quick game is a good game.' A long game can be an arduous 13-hour work day, so of course, a quick game is a good game to us. 'It will get over quickly', 'It will be a shorter work day', were the things we heard as the crew took their positions to broadcast the Afghanistan v. Australia match.

Things went our way when Afghanistan won the toss and chose to bat first. All was fine and dandy, going according to our prediction. Afghanistan will bat first, and get out quickly, and Australia will smash the game in a few overs. Quick match, here it comes! 

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4 hours later, Afghanistan ended its innings at 297 runs. Ok, big score. But the crew is hopeful. Australia should still be able to finish it with relative ease and end the game fast.

I usually get a 7-minute break between innings. It's a decent break to grab a quick bite and use the restroom. That 7-minute break is heaven for me because I usually stuff my face with food and run towards the restroom in the time I have. However, on that day, I miscalculated my break and I could only grab a bite, I couldn't use the restroom. No worries, I told myself, it will be a quick game and after the game, I'll use the restroom.

The second innings started. I'm at my desk. By the time the first powerplay ended, Australia were 7 wickets down. 91/7. We are in awe of Afghanistan's bowling prowess and I'm thrilled that Australia is losing wickets fast. The faster they lose wickets, the faster can I reach the restroom. In jubilation of the anticipated win, I chugged down a bottle of water!

Then came Cummins, and his partnership with Maxwell began. Tik, tik, tik, slowly they played, I'm still hoping it will be a quick match. And then.

Mujeeb dropped an easy catch from Maxwell at backward short leg. That's when I whispered, "Afghanistan has dropped its place from the semi-finals."

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The broadcast team, never one to lose hope, is still encouraging each other, it will be a quick match, and Australia won't survive till the 20th over. 8-9-10. Just 3 wickets and this game was over. The prediction amongst the crew was that the match would get over by 7:30 pm. Dinner plans of who will eat where in Mumbai after the match were the talk amongst us crew members. I too messaged my friend, "Let's meet for dinner at 8 pm." 

When the drinks break for players came 1hr 10mins into the 2nd innings, I chugged 2 bottles of water (because it's ending soon, ain't it?). 8-9-10. Just 3 wickets to go. The joy of being free before your regular office hours knows no bounds! Of course, I needed to use the restroom but with the 20th over just around the corner, I thought I might as well finish the match. Quick game, yes. I fully believe in these sorts of predictions by the crew. We have been broadcasting cricket matches for a while now, so through experience comes better predictions.

Right after the drinks break, Maxwell takes a quick run and pulls his hamstring. He didn't look good at the crease, we thought he would retire hurt and ask to be replaced. Just 2 more wickets to go after Maxwell retires, these last 2 cricketers are bowlers, usually, they get out fairly fast. Predictions.

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And therein lies the weakness of predicting the resilience of Maxwell. Years of experience of predicting failed magnificently as Maxwell took to the crease, even with a pulled hamstring.

As he was raining sixes and fours, my director's excited voice increased decibel by decibel, second by second. The production control room was charged, and the match was exciting. The drinks break came and I, in my excitement, gulped down two more bottles of 500ml water. Back at my desk, Maxwell at the crease. Maxwell hitting nonstop, my bladder was now full.

But then again, Maxwell pulls his hamstring. I have to cover his injury and switch between cameras. He's lying on the floor looking defeated. I'm switching at my machine, bladders full, looking defeated. I am switching between cameras, I see a water bottle being brought to Maxwell and it makes me tighten my pelvic muscles. Then he sits up with a determined face, and I am as determined as him to not wet my seat and face humiliation.

By now I've realised what a mistake I have made, drinking copious amounts of water during a match. Rookie mistake after all these years. It doesn't look like this match will end. Adult diapers! I must carry adult diapers for such emergencies. My mind wanders but Maxwell is at the crease again and I concentrate on the game.

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By now, Maxwell is just swishing his bat hitting sixes and fours, standing at the crease. The director is going excitedly about, rolling the show, commands, excitable voices all around, goosebumps on my skin from excessive bladder control, I hit the buttons, I feel the walls of my bladder expanding to its maximum capacity, I try concentrating on the director's commands but my bladder wants attention. I keep telling myself, this is a big event, this is a historic match, I cannot afford to make mistakes in this match, the entire cricket community is watching my work on live TV. And no, I cannot let my bladder get the better of me. I kept my head down and press, press, press the buttons. Camera 1, camera 6, transition, graphics, bladder... No, no bladder, camera 4. 

I now wonder how it would have been to be in the audience and watch him play but as a vision mixer operator, all I saw were his replays for 4 seconds and went back to pressing buttons. Piano Man, the name is right.

It's now the 46th over and Maxwell needs 21 runs for his 200 and Australia needs 21 runs to win. I too need this match to end, one way or another. There's no way I can hold it in any longer. My entire system is in emergency mode. As Maxwell thinks of victory, all I can think of is the lavatory. 

0 6 6 4 6. Match finished. Let me go to the restroom. I almost get up. My rear end doesn't touch the seat anymore. But no, this was a historic match. The director wants to take shots of the Australian team celebrating. I am still at my desk, on the verge of losing my dignity. Shaking my knees, trying to distract myself. In situations like this, the brain feels like it's filled with water and that's how I felt.

As soon as the director called it a day, I did my life's fastest sprint to the restroom. And on my way to glory, I stumbled on those heavy cables in the production control room and pulled my hamstring. Like, really? Was now really the time? And then Maxwell's determined face flashed in my head. I too made a determined face and limped to the restroom. Just in time. I could hear the audience in my head cheering me. Finally.

When the cheering in my head died down, my brain told me I still had to broadcast the presentation. Maxwell's determined face flashed in my mind once again, I tried not to think of my pulled hamstring and reached my desk to finish the last few minutes of the broadcast. When I stood up finally from my desk, after everything was done for the day, my pulled hamstring snapped my senses so hard I howled in pain. And these chaps around me clapped my back and said, "There's a Maxwell in the broadcast team as well."

That match was historic, I have been rewatching the highlights and whenever I see Maxwell's pain, I remember my own pain of a different kind. It was indeed a historic day.

(Neel Saud is a freelance TV broadcaster. He travels wherever cricket takes him)