COMMENT: How Huw passes the big screen test

As viewers tuned in on Tuesday night expecting to learn the latest on the Tory/DUP pact and updates on the Grenfell Tower fire, they were treated to a red screen and some saxophone muzak.

Anyone who switched over to the BBC 24 Hour News Channel would have seen Huw sitting at his desk, quietly and calmly writing the odd note and looking around the newsroom – but not to camera – with no indication that anything was wrong.

What a cool cucumber.

When the show started, he seamlessly switched into presenter mode, reading the headlines and slipping in a reassuring ad lib: “A few technical problems tonight for which we apologise.”

Is this guy super human? Apparently not. After the show, he was quick to reveal that his first act was to reward himself with a cool beer. Huw tweeted a photo of a can of ale (a Welsh one, aptly enough) with the message: “I think I’m going to enjoy this little beauty after that Ten.” He signed off with “Lechyd da!”, Welsh for cheers!

If only we could all keep as level headed and professional as this in a crisis.

As I was watching Huw on Tuesday night, those four minutes felt like an eternity. How did he manage such self restraint? I half expected him to break into a song, or start humming a tune (by Tom Jones, of course), or rattle his fingers on the desk, run his hand through his hair, pick his nose, scratch an itch, cough, or just display one of the many little tics we all show when we are under pressure.

Chances are the News at Ten team behind the scenes were compensating for Huw’s lack of panic. Did a producer blast down his earpiece in Big Brother fashion: “Huw, you are live on the BBC, er, we think you are, so DON’T SWEAR!”.

I remember a similar incident happening when I was a media student at the University of Stirling.

We were third and fourth year students on the TV News Production course and had to prepare bulletins to go out “live” from our state-of-the-art studio as part of our assessment. We had to make news films, write our own scripts, book in “guests” for studio interviews – then broadcast the show as if live.

My friend Shelley Jofre was in my team and her dream was to be a news anchor. I quickly gave up on any such ambition after my news reading efforts crashed and burned in an earlier assessment, when my tutor observed my delivery was a bit distracting because of my “come hither eyes”.

COOL OPERATOR: BBC presenter Shelley Jofre

So Shelley was our presenter and we built the show around her. As the day of our assessment dawned, we were all at our action stations: Shelley in the studio, and me, firmly behind the camera, directing the programme from the gallery.

One of the particular challenges of producing live TV is being able to count in units of 60, as items are timed according to minutes and seconds.

This was my undoing. As we began the broadcast, everything was going well and I managed to cue in all the VT news stories on time. But as we drew near the end of the bulletin, I realised with horror that we were a couple of minutes short. Shelley had delivered her final lines to close the show and was expecting the title music to start. I went into blind panic. It was fight or flight. I obviously couldn’t run away, but I couldn’t think of a solution to the car crash that was about to unfold.

To her absolute credit, Shelley kept her cool. Just like Huw, she didn’t break into a sweat, she didn’t start singing, and she didn’t swear.

We cued the music and we had Shelley on the telly just for that little bit longer.

The world didn’t end (though it felt that way to me) – and we all passed despite this “glitch”.

Happily, the experience didn’t put us off journalism. I decided words rather than pictures were more my thing and became a newspaper reporter. Shelley went into broadcasting – you might have seen her on Panorama. She’s another cool cucumber, just like Huw.