This is from The Economist, which gives the DRS a generally favorable review:
In this series, both captains were still learning whom to trust. Having been talked into one ridiculous review too many, it is rumoured that Misbah-ul-Haq, Pakistan’s normally level-headed captain, simply stopped listening to his excitable wicket-keeper, Adnan Akmal. If anything, it has proved what even the most hard-done-by bowlers have always known deep down: umpires get it right more often than they get it wrong.
One funny — and no doubt unintended consequence — of the DRS system is that it has revealed just how badly players (and commentators) think about appeals. Judging from “excitable” characters like Akmal (but also every bowler alive), you would think players believe simply by virtue of appealing they have made 80 percent of their case. At one point during the series, for example, Saeed Ajmal was absolutely convinced that he had a leg-before, only for the review to show the ball pitching outside leg — the worst of rookie errors.
What was it like before DRS, I wonder? Did players appeal and, when turned down, sink to a hole of contempt and despair? Did they think the umpires were absolute idiots who delighted in their ignorance and power? And how do players feel now, having been shown (time and time again) that their conviction in appeals has been revealed to be little more than naive hope? So I’ll add this to the list of the Joys of DRS: the hilariously pained expressions cricketers like Jonathan Trott and Stuart Broad wear on their faces after they stake their honor on the line, convince their captain to use a precious review, and then watch technology make arses of them all.
Post-Script: Commentators, too, you know. Watch this clip of a calm Aleem Dar being proved right. Listen in particular for Michael Slater shouting, “That’s out!”