World Cup Nonsense

[Sweder]

As the cathode rays cool after the first bout of opposing televisual punditry it's time to declare my allegiance to the Boy Lineker and his Merry Men.

This harks back to my childhood, when my Mum would tell us that all good things were on the BBC and anything on 'the other side' was inferior or evil (that never really washed with me - after all, was The Sweeney not the best thing on telly on the '70's?).

Anyway, the Beeb played their trump cards in the first few hours of World Cup '06 - opening ceremony, first match (a corker) with the first England match to follow (in a few hours ).
Their decision to opt for the relative comfort of an 'off-site' studio (adjacent to the impressive Brandenburg Gate) paid off in spades, the true value revealed when one faced the claustrophobic horror of ITV's Pundit’s Pit. 'Big' Sam Allerdyce did his impression of Roy Scheider in Jaws – ‘we're going to need a bigger chair’. The clue is in the name, boys; 'Big' Sam is likely to need a 'Big' chair, not something purloined from a junior classroom. The poor man appeared to have been restrained, as if he might leap across the pitifully small cube masquerading as a studio and throttle the oddly waxen-faced Gabby Logan. The usually beguiling daughter of one of Wales's finest seemed to struggle with a series of increasingly banal questions that had Ruud Gullit visibly squirming.

I couldn't help wondering if the authorities at the Gelsenkirchen AufSchalke Arena had forgotten they were coming and, to save an embarrassing scene, had found them a janitor’s cupboard at the last minute. The atmosphere was forced and uncomfortable, not helped by the paucity of the struggle between Ecuador and Poland. Gullit seemed almost embarrassed to be there, shoe-horned in between the hostess and a bleary-eyed Stuart Pearce. Someone really ought to offer Psycho a comb before he goes on national telly; he had the appearance of a man recently dragged from the wreckage of his post-binge hotel room, trapped rabbit-like in the technician’s stark headlights. I'm expecting better from the straight-shooting City boss as the tournament unfolds.

By contrast, Hansen, O'Neil (the master) and Shearer lounged comfortably, chatting easily from the safety of generous furniture like a bunch of old mates. Despite the slightly annoying whine of Jonathan Pearce (here comes that 'he's not really a Beeb man’ prejudice, folks) Mark Lawrenson played a blinder, offering insight and wit as the occasion demanded. For the second half of the second half I deployed my Red Button Technology (why oh why must we wait hours for the 'Interactive' service to kick in???) and followed the end of the match in the company of the excellent Alan Green.

By the time ITV take up the gauntlet on Saturday evening, unless the Beeb (or England) have had a stinker I'll be resorting to the radio for those matches screened on ‘the other side’.

BBC 1, ITV 0.