The Ashes 2010: Barney Ronay's guide to the Sky Sports pundits

Nasser Hussain Intense, passionate and, above all, passionately intense. Appears to be suffering on-screen flashbacks to captaining England during their most exasperating Alan Mullally-at-cover 1990s ineptitude. Best when experiencing one of his regular on-air psychic hunches, eg: "You feel Pietersen might try to clear that fielder one time too often ... Simple catch, Pietersen goes." David Lloyd Sprightly elder statesman and cricketing national treasure. A man for all formats: slapstick in the shorter form and ruminative in the Test arena with a pipe-fondling air of old school good sense. Should take only a fortnight under Australian conditions to attain high-summer resemblance to seasoned 50s cricket bat dressed in blue short-sleeved shirt. Shane Warne Charismatic, incisive, brilliant on spin bowling and only slightly undermined by inability to begin sentence without the words "Aw, look". Keenly pro-Aussie, but yet to allow even a flicker of doubt to creep across his face while discussing their chances. Or, in fact, a flicker of anything. Sir Ian Botham Curmudgeonly Ashes legend. Blazer-ragging iconoclasm now matured into harrumphing belief in wrongness of all things new or non-Sir Ian Botham-related. Unrestrained by notions of broadcasting neutrality: jousting with Warne might yet induce frisky midlife second wind, in style of aged tycoon enlivened by newly acquired junior catalogue wife. Mike Atherton The Morrissey of the Sky box. Scholarly, dry-witted and as downbeat as Manchester rain. Unusually composed in the role of interview frontman: able to conduct an entire glad-handing presentation ceremony while simultaneously coating proceedings in a gloss of waspish irony. Charles Colvile/Bob Willis Dual-headed London-based highlights entity. Operates from a small Isleworth broom cupboard. Tendency to suddenly peer straight into the camera, as though about to clamber down the lens in doomed attempt to escape captivity. David Gower Rakish top order gadfly-turned steely studio anchorman. Key broadcasting skill remains pleasantly burbling background-filler presence during extended lunchtime meander. Maintains at all times the air of a man presiding over a particularly pleasant Chablis-fuelled informal lunch party, albeit one where people say things like "more from Bumble after this short break" and "we sent Tim Abraham to have a look". Michael Holding Snake-hipped fast-bowling giant now increasingly prone to expressions of simmering ubi sunt rage at modern day fripperies. Major weapon: a voice so deep and deliciously sonorous he could read out the ingredients list on a packet of Frosties and still make it seem fascinating. Still the only man ever to make wearing a pair of spectacles with a dinner lady-style safety chain look strangely groovy.