Motty’s skill and delivery secured his status at the heart of our national psyche
The loss of John Motson will be felt deeply in commentary boxes and directors’ boxes at football stadiums across the country this weekend.
Motson knew everyone in football, and everyone knew him. He made it his mission to be on good terms with stewards, strikers and chief executives – any one of whom might pass on that nugget of information that could raise his commentary above the ordinary. Meticulous doesn’t do it justice.
When I joined Match of the Day fulltime in 2001 – having cut my teeth at Capital Radio and BBC Radio 5 Live – John was the first person to ring to congratulate me. He insisted I could call him at any time for advice, and I often did. Motty would offer words of wisdom and help with contacts. I felt that he wanted me to succeed and to create a niche for myself in the football department at TV Centre. His input was invaluable.
My relationship with John was always good, except for one incident at the 2008 European Championship, hosted in Austria and in Switzerland, which is where Motty and I were based for the group stages.
Part of our daily routine was to sit over coffee and chat about the tournament. One morning Motty asked if we could exchange notes on the Dutch and the French. I had seen France a couple of days earlier and he was about to commentate on their next game. I was happy to swap as his Dutch notes might save me some time preparing for my commentary on their game against Romania in Berne.
Motty’s match notes were something of an institution in their own right. As you would expect they were meticulously researched and handwritten in pens of various colours; insanely neat, and, as such, extremely time-consuming to produce or replace. I like to think that my own notes are also meticulously researched, but mine are typed on a laptop and can be easily updated.
We swapped notes and retreated to our respective rooms to work. After a useful couple of hours looking through his research on the Dutch, I put his notes on top of a pile of old newspapers and went for some fresh air. While I was out, housekeeping arrived and emptied my bin, taking with them the stash of newspapers – and Motty’s precious commentary notes.
Too late, I tried to get them back. When I, shame-faced, explained to Motty that his notes had gone, he was understandably horrified. What if he had to commentate on the Dutch again? More to the point, he explained, he was going to auction them for charity.
Poor Motty was fretting until the Netherlands were knocked out by Russia, with Jonathan Pearce on commentary duty. Much as I’ve always liked Dutch football, I was absolutely delighted to see them eliminated so that the precious notes would not be needed again.
A fortnight later, as I was preparing to leave Vienna for home and as he prepared for the Euro 2008 final – his last live commentary for BBC TV – Motty took me to one side and said: “Well done, you had a great tournament.” I think the incident of the lost notes had been forgiven. It meant a lot.
After the tournament Motty was kind enough to invite what seemed like the entire BBC football department to his house for lunch with his wife and son. Not many people would think to invite partners too: it was an example of his typical kindness.
Motty falls into that category of commentator whose voice is forever associated with their chosen sport. In the late 1970s, when live sport was a rare commodity and TV channels numbered one to three, there were really only three football commentators who were well-known countrywide: Brian Moore, Barry Davies and John Motson.
Motty’s skill as a commentator, and our familiarity with his voice and unique delivery, secured him legendary status at the heart of our national psyche. Though it’s an exciting time
for TV commentators now, with some great new voices coming to the fore, the age of multi-channel TV with live football virtually every night of the week means there will never be anyone quite like Motty.