Lineker finds the right tone on a trying evening
Match of the Day host had to cover more than goals as news broke of a double tragedy on Saturday, writes Alan Tyers
He conveyed the gravity of the situation at the King Power and the concern felt for Hoddle
Stick to the football, they tell Gary Lineker. But football does not stick to the football, does it? On Saturday, two very sad and upsetting events within the ambit of football but absolutely nothing to do with kicking footballs happened, and it fell to the Match of the Day host to relay the news to many and, just as significantly, to offer the sporting nation some sort of containment.
For a former Tottenham Hotspur and Leicester City player, the collapse of Spurs legend Glenn Hoddle and the crash of the helicopter belonging to LCFC owner Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha must have been a distressing double blow.
Lineker, grave but composed, did a tremendous job of relaying such facts from the King Power Stadium as were available, conveying the gravity of the situation there, embodying the sympathy and concern universally felt for Hoddle, and finally turning coolly but not coldly to the football action. The show, as they say, must go on.
Presenting an unfolding, tragic news story on live television is surely as difficult as it gets in the world of sporting media, more so than ever in this era of hyper-vigilance, tone-policing and instant, savage judgment.
Everyone is a critic and every punter has his own pocket-sized bully pulpit in the shape of a smartphone, but social media’s verdict on Lineker’s Saturday work was strongly approving, if that counts for anything.
It has not always been so for the generously-eared crisp salesman, who has taken to Twitter on topics including but by no means limited to Nigel Farage, child refugees, Donald Trump and Brexit. His views on the last of those diverge from those of this newspaper; some of the frothier criticisms of the one-time England centre-forward have cast him as a “lefty luvvie”. He has been labelled everything from “the voice of liberal Britain” to “Russia’s useful idiot”.
Often incorrectly called out as an employee of the BBC, rather than what he actually is (a well-remunerated freelancer) many feel he ought to confine himself to the discussion of the scoring, saving or creation of goals.
This is unfair and wrong. Lineker has the right to express his views as much as anyone else. More than that, he is a significant national figure: more recognisable than most politicians or the Royal family. He has been a nation’s companion through times exciting and excruciating, delightful and deflating. Rarely has he had to discuss actual, as opposed to footballing, tragedies, but it is at these times we realise football is both more and less important than it actually is.
From the Bradford City fire on World of Sport and Grandstand or John Motson at Hillsborough to the outpourings of affection for Graham Taylor after he died, or Dion Dublin crying on television when he spoke about Cyrille Regis, football telly broadcasts have had to carry far more weight than anyone might wish they should.
In moments of sorrow and worry as well as joy and escapism, football figures have been there: their presence on our screens and in our minds a reminder that sticking to the football is no more possible than remembering that it is just a game.