Watching cricket from Australia next summer won't be the same, on a few fronts.
Fox Sports and Channel Seven have been the winners in the bidding battle, Channel Nine has lost the free-to-air rights after 40 years.
New faces and voices will turn up, but there will be no more Bill Lawry.
The 81-year-old is hanging up the microphone after 40 years, loyal to Channel Nine to the last, turning back offers from elsewhere.
It's a smart move from the former Australian captain and opener.
As a lefthand opener in 67 tests, he averaged an outstanding 47.15, and hit 13 centuries but you wouldn't have crossed the street to watch him at the crease.
In what is still remembered as one of the worst pieces of Australian administrative malpractice, Lawry's sacking in 1971 was first announced over the radio. He was made aware of it from reporters when he arrived at an airport.
He was once christened 'the corpse with pads on', such was his strokeless demeanour.
But he could bat.
Twice he scored three centuries in a home series, against England in 1965-66 and the West Indies in 1968-69 so no mistake he could play.
But rarely can a personality have undergone such a seismic shift with a change of career.
Dour, grafting batsman became the most excitable voice behind a microphone in cricket, at least until some of the younger lunatic fringe have emerged of late to shout the T20 game around the globe.
But while they ham it up for effect, Lawry, you always sensed, was genuine in his delight for the game.
If some of his calling could be repetitive, it never lost its vibrancy, and enthusiasm, and the love for the game shone through, along with his affection for fellow Victorians and the frequent banter about his pigeons.
"A swing and a miss!''; ''He's got him, he's gone'', which in particularly dramatic moments often translated as a high-pitched ''s'gotteem!, s'gone!''. They often pop up in everyday cricket banter, which points to the impact he had on viewers.
Lawry was part of the senior quartet back in the glory years of the 1980s with Richie Benaud, Ian Chappell and Tony Greig.
If Benaud was the spoon which stirred the cup, Chappell the serious voice and Greig the most polarising, Lawry was the froth on the top.
He grew on listeners and Lawry was an example of a key broadcasting axiom: be what you like, just never be dull.
He got his break when Kerry Packer grabbed the corners of the Australian Cricket Board table and gave it a shake like never before in the 1970s. World Series Cricket changed the game forever, not all of it good it should be said, but you've only got to look back at old footage of the game in the 1960s to see the stark difference.
Lawry admitted when Packer called the group together in 1975-76 ''I went to the first meeting or two and I said 'this will only last for a couple of years, let's enjoy ourselves', so we were way off the mark there.''
His loyalty has stayed strong. Others have come knocking but Lawry hasn't been tempted. Through it all, he has had a second cricket career he's never have imagined, had it not been for Packer.
He wasn't to everyone's taste and there's a case no commentator should be. But he's had a cracking second innings and he will be missed.
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