How Rio Ferdinand ruined Everton v Liverpool
In America, they call it âthe three-man boothâ. In Britain, TNT Sports seem to think itâs the future.
As that old icon of football bear-pits that is Goodison Park rocked and rumbled towards retirement, a new sound could be heard slowly growing in volume across our encrypted screens.
Itâs the sound of conversational commentary.
A melodramatic narrative had been written in advance of its final Merseyside derby that Goodison was never going to disappoint. Rough and raw, chaotic and cluttered, old time and Old School. The only letdown was the absence of a streaker or a stray dog.
If the essence of football commentary is to capture the mood of an occasion, TNTâs three-strong attack on our senses nailed it. It was all of the above. The three amigos each caught the fever in rashes.
As Rio Ferdinand profoundly remarked: âOh my God, Oh my God.â
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If Iâve heard anything more perceptive in my near 50 years with a microphone in hand, itâs Barry Daviesâ favourite saying: âOne manâs commentator is another manâs pain in the arse.â Like Super Bowl half-time shows, we are all a matter of opinion.
And my view counts for no more than the next viewerâs.
My broadcast mentor, Reg Gutteridge, had a hundred favourite sayings. But if I had a penny for every time he told me to âidentify your audience and talk to themâ, Iâd be typing this from my own private island. If you want my opinion, a three-person team are more likely to talk to each other than they are to speak to the audience.
This is not meant to be a criticism of any member of that team. Itâs just an inevitability, a function of the equation.
Ally McCoist is one of the most naturally engaging communicators Iâve ever had the pleasure to work with. He has that fetching knack of sounding like someone youâd just love to have a pint with. (And he is that someone, I promise you).
MORE MERSEYSIDE DERBY REACTION ON F365:
đ Liverpool âabsolutely robbedâ as the Reds see their arses over derby draw
đ âOut of orderâ Liverpool star âoverreactedâ to sh*thousery as Van Dijk hits out at Michael Oliver
đ Arne Slot âragingâ as ex-PGMOL chief admits to Michael Oliver mistake in Merseyside derby
But on Wednesday night he sounded like he was already at the bar with a couple of mates and didnât want to be disturbed. When âtwo becomes threeâ on the commentary gantry, their exchanges are inevitably littered with name-checks and private jokes. Their audience are made to eavesdrop on their intercourse like outsiders. We feel like we are listening to their podcast. And on Thursday night Statler and Waldorf were joined by special guest Ali G.
âOh my God. Oh my God.â
When TNT launched in 2023 with an all-female presentation team, one of the boasts of their spokesperson was a desire to reduce the stale, male banter of too many football shows. The soundtrack to Wednesday nightâs game was down the pub with the lads. The expert tactical advice to Everton was to try to rough up Virgil van Dijkâs hair. Get into âem.
When a goal was scored, Allyâs penalty-box instincts kicked in and he immediately provided ingrained, intuitive technical insight into how Beto, Alexis Mac Allister and Mo Salah seized upon the rare chances the carnage of the match allowed them. When heâs not joshing with the boys, he can tell us as much about the game as any storied coach or analyst. Ally is a broadcast gem.
The role of the co-commentator is simple for me, Clive; they are the men and women that have been across the white line where most of us never get to go. Their challenge is to come back and explain how football matches are won and lost. Tell us something we canât already see for ourselves.
Having the judgment and knowledge to read a game doesnât necessarily give an ex-player the ability to read it out loud to an audience of millions. They are two separate professions with their own techniques and thought processes. If you are coming from football into broadcasting, you need to be schooled and coached in the methods and disciplines of communication. Your words should count.
âOh my God. Oh my God,â is not quite enough.
Part of the issue is the reluctance of football managers and players to say anything truly revealing for fear of becoming the victim of an easy headline, a social media cancellation or an FA disrepute charge. I donât blame them one bit. The breakdown in trust between football and its media is the saddest single development during my long career. The flow of valuable information has virtually dried up.
The vacuum has been filled by an eruption of molten opinions and pyrotechnic debates on phone-ins, podcasts and social channels. The vast majority of football news is made by people that no longer earn a living from the game beyond the sponsorships of their content platforms. Managersâ press conferences start with questions about what Gary Neville or Jamie Carragher has said about them. We really donât need to discuss football anymore because itâs done for us on Sky.
Whether that constant babble of opinions translates well into television commentary is the question here.
Even in other sports with a more measured and predictable rhythm than football, the âthird eyeâ tends to be introduced as an add-on by broadcasters. Skyâs excellent cricket coverage will often use the end of an over as the cue to let Nasser Hussain or Mike Atherton narrate a pre-edited sequence of clips illustrating a particular aspect of the match we are watching.
It is the kind of analysis that works well during live tennis or golf coverage. Thereâs a guy called Din Thomas that has even made an art of it in UFC.
The tempo and cadence of a football match is less predictable or formulaic. Whenever I delve into my library of pre-prepared research and statistics during a game, Iâm conscious of the danger of talking across and against the narrative of the pictures that you are watching. Television is a visual medium. We are not as important as the optics. Commentary is the soundtrack to the movie and, whilst there are some memorable soundtracks, nobody goes to the cinema specifically to listen. We go primarily to watch a film.
No advances in televisual technology and enjoyment have ever been achieved without experiment. The âthree-man boothâ experiment is taking place against a backdrop of growing familiarity with the chattering, jabbering, gossiping sound of football talk on our screens and platforms. I get that.
If it sounds a little jarring and jumbled to me, then maybe thatâs a reflection of a media landscape where everything is noisier and nosier than it was. Perhaps a âwatch alongâ version of live football commentary is what the viewing public has been waiting for. If it is, I have only three words to offer.
Oh my God.
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