Less talk, more action
SOME OF TODAY’S SPORTSCASTERS make you want to hit the ‘STFU’ button
One voice can make a difference, in politics and the broadcast booth.
The solitary voice in public affairs can make itself audible through social media, which amplifies and spreads the message. The word is heard much more loudly and widely (the jury is out on effectively and beneficially) than it was in the eons preceding Facebook, Twitter, etc.
Solo sportscasting was on display during the recent Euro 2012 tour nament. Announcers describing the action on the FIFA feed, which TSN was using, worked alone.
The absence of commentators providing analysis and/ or “colour” did not diminish the quality of Euro 2012’s telecasts.
It might have enhanced them.
Play-by-play included periods of silence when viewers were on their own to observe and absorb what was happening in the games. Then the announcer would give us the name of the player on the ball, followed by a concise description of the action that ensued, with maybe some appreciation of inspired play, e.g. a “piercing ball” delivered to a player in position to score.
John Helm, a former print journalist who’s been on British soccer telecasts for decades, was the solo man in the booth for the championship game between Spain and Italy. Helm’s voice would rise slightly on “a good chance, neatly contrived,” but for most of the game he was content to provide straightforward descriptions with minimal embellishment.
Game action spoke for itself, and you didn’t need a whole lot more.
Which is not to suggest Helm was dull. When the isolation cameras, which were really excellent throughout the tournament, caught an interesting face on the touchline or in the crowd, Helm provided low-key colour.
“Doesn’t he always look a benign chap?” Helm said of Spanish coach Vicente del Bosque. “He always looks so calm, like he’s out for an afternoon in the park, really.”
Imagine if that were a North American sports tele-
Too often, sportscasters talk for the sake of talking.
cast. The colour man in the broadcast booth would be rattling off facts and figures about how long del Bosque has coached, where he got his start, how many goals he scored during his playing career.
On this side of the Atlantic Ocean, the prevailing theory in televised sports is nature abhors an audio vacuum. The fan’s ears must be ceaselessly filled with information.
It’s often useful, particularly with replays. Slowmotion video and informed analysis helps the fans at home understand why a goal was scored, a touchdown pass completed or a third strike called.
But often … too often, sportscasters talk for the sake of talking, filling the airwaves with mind-numbing trivia. The incessant babble is tolerable in sports with a lot of downtime, such as baseball and football. But in hockey and, particularly, in soccer – where the clock never stops – a lot of talk becomes just so much white noise.
Commentary and analysis should enhance the viewing experience. The best colour men – Troy Aikman on Fox’s National Football League telecasts, Craig Simpson on Hockey Night in Canada – complement their play-byplay partners.
Too many of the others just make you want to hit the “STFU” button on the remote. The trial of English Premier League soccer player John Terry proved pro athletes, like children, should be seen and not heard.
What is said to opponents, in the heat of action, often does not bear scrutiny by delicate sensibilities. The invective flying back and forth, on the hockey rink, soccer pitch or football field, are more personal and profane than anything this side of the Nasty Show.
In a verdict rendered Friday morning in London, Terry was found not guilty of racially abusing Anton Ferdinand during an exchange of insults. Terry called Ferdi-
“It was embarrassing ... the sport has suffered grievous damage.”
HOWARD RIDDLE TRIAL JUDGE
nand a “f---ing black c---” during an Oct. 23 game between his Chelsea side and west London rival Queens Park Rangers.
Trial coverage in The Guardian has reprinted the phrase uncensored. It is important to note that the c-word, which reliably brings civilized conversation to a screeching halt on this side of the Atlantic, is a fairly common derogatory term among British males.
For examples in a comic context, go on You Tube and type “Derek and Clive” in the search box. C-bombs fall like rain in This Bloke Came Up to Me, a sketch performed by Dudley Moore and his genius comic partner, the late Peter Cook.
“We’re not talking about Balzac,” said trial judge Howard Riddle, in describing the case as an argument over everyday language.
The case was about eliminating racism from everyday banter on the soccer pitch. When they get around to tackling homophobia, f-word users will fill a prisoners dock bigger than the Nuremberg Trials.
Writing in The Guardian, for which he filed Twitter updates from the courtroom, Daniel Taylor sees the Terry verdict as an embarrassment for the Premier League:
“Never before has a court case gone into such forensic examination of what really happens during an elite-level match and when it was all laid bare the bottom line is that it was embarrassing, damaging and, very often, excruciating. Terry may consider it a victory of sorts, but the sport as a whole has suffered grievous damage.”
Even the crowd prosecutor admitted if referees applied the rule that abusive language merited a red card, the average game would last “no longer than 10 minutes.”
“More than anything,” Taylor writes, “football just came across as astonishingly petty and childish, a place where the players operate to their own rules.”