Blanket coverage of the Champions League and Championship play-off finals leads to a dangerous monopoly situation
I may be turning into Andy Capp, and I blame Sky Sports. After Super Sunday last week, it was clear Super Saturday would not pass muster for a double bill of Championship play-off and European Cup finals, so after what I assume was a pretty high‑level conference – I picture a scene like the war room in Downfall – Sky fixed on Day Of Destiny.
Day is the key word here. Day, as in morning, afternoon, and evening, as I explained to my wife when she entered what I consider to be my workplace just before 9pm, complained that I had monopolised the television for seven hours, and could we possibly turn over to The Bridge on BBC4. At 9pm, for goodness sake.
I don't know what is going on in Malmo, I told her, but the real Euro‑action is in Munich. I then uttered the time-honoured phrase, which I think should be incorporated into the marriage vows in some way: "You can watch it on the small TV upstairs."
I also betrayed my unreconstructed northern maleness by pointing out that I had not eaten since lunchtime. As I tried to explain, the proportion of alcohol to blood in my system was approaching a level where it would be impossible to deconstruct the television coverage in a felicitous way for my thousands – OK, dozens – of dedicated readers.
Some food, I said, might act as useful corrective. There was a definite touch of Simone de Beauvoir in the way she plonked down an egg sandwich and a packet of cheese 'n' onion crisps some minutes later.
The fine comedian Michael McIntyre once said the only circumstances in which a man is permitted to wake a sleeping wife is the death of a celebrity or an overnight snowfall. Similarly, the only circumstances permitting a husband to interrupt a spouse's enjoyment of gritty Scandinavian crime drama is if the game should go to penalties.
I am convinced Uefa introduced the penalty shootout only to deliver a non‑football audience to Heineken and MasterCard, and raise sponsorship income accordingly.
I expect "Call me in if it goes to penalties" to be at least as widely heard during the forthcoming European Championship as such phrases as "I thought this chap Hodgson was supposed to know what he's doing".
While the family gathered round for penalties, they eschewed the chance to join me in continuing the Day of Destiny with the ITV highlights show. I have no evidence, but I suspect in most houses where Sky Sports is available, the satellite channel will be favoured by football fans over ITV, although maybe without the side order of several hours of buildup. It certainly is round my gaff, as Martin Tyler's unfussy commentary remains more to my taste than Clive Tyldesley's volubility, and ITV is still unable to find a pundit with the acuity of Graeme Souness.
For professional purposes, though, and because I was by that point unable to move out of my chair, I watched ITV's highlights, despite knowing presenter Matt Smith's habit of leaving long pauses in the middle of a sentence as if about to say something portentous or even funny, and then merely completing his sentence, would do nothing to aid digestion of beer and crisps; and pundits Gareth Southgate and Andy Townsend were unlikely to add anything to what I had seen with my own eyes.
Maybe it's just the time Sky's panel is afforded that makes their punditry often seem more pertinent, but Clarke Carlisle and Alan Pardew, at Wembley for the Blackpool‑West Ham United play‑off, gave a definite sense of what such matches feel like for managers and players. Carlisle was eloquent on the subject of the sudden silence that descends on changing rooms just before kick‑off, while Pardew, who speaks with the authority of Manager of the Year, and someone who knows how to win and lose play‑off finals, gave an idea of the limitations of a manager's powers on the Day of Destiny. It actually felt like genuine insight.
Admittedly, an awful lot of pointless blether also finds its way into the unforgiving hours Sky has to fill on these occasions, especially post‑match when every single victorious player is asked how it feels ("Shocking, Brian. I've got a headache, I think I may have left the gas on at home, my girlfriend's been reading my private texts, and now I've got to go and play in the Premier League") and duly informs us it is "unbelievable", exhorting us to "look at these fans, they're unbelievable".
The BBC's Mark Clemmit had an interesting take on the standard how‑does‑it‑feel/what‑does‑it‑mean‑to‑you question, approaching West Ham's Mark Noble, as follows: "Local boy, longest serving player, cup finals, relegations, promotions – discuss." Yes, I ended my Day of Destiny with the highlights on the BBC's Football League Show but I did clear up my bottles and empty the dishwasher. Read More
انسخ الكود التالى و ضعه فى موقعك او مدونتك.
