So sad to hear that Bill McLaren, the legendary Rugby commentator has died.

Blessed with the vocabulary of a poet, the voice of a biblical prophet, and the enthusiasm of a youngster waiting up all night for Father Christmas.

There was a gorgeous tribute to him in today's Guardian, peppered with some of his commentary classics. Name any other sports commentator who could sketch in a few, simple words the immensity of one player, by saying he was "...a great big sheep farmer who carried the ball in his hands as though it were an orange pip"

Then there's this: "...he tackled like the crack of doom and he could sniff a scoring Chance like a forest animal". It's Byronic and evocative, utterly above the mundane tripe most Sports commentators drip with.

Someone, I hope, will be busily pulling together an anthology of McLaren's commentary. Deserves to happen.