The air is alive to the sound of men discussing football
Published 19 February 1999
Media
Forget about fakes pretending to be ordinary people in extraordinary situations on daytime television. Enjoy instead genuinely ordinary people taking part in the most extraordinary fantasy the media has concocted, a soap opera that exceeds all others.
The proliferation of all-talk radio stations has created a new phenomenon. For much of the day, every day, football fans (and indeed anyone not remotely interested in football) can lose themselves in a surreal world of heated debate, never-ending speculation about who's in, who's out and what will happen if the person who may be out turns out to be in. The exchanges are often irrational, meaningless and uninformed, and they meander in unexpected directions. But they are also irrationally addictive.
Under Kelvin MacKenzie, Talk Radio has a sports forum dominated by football between five and eight every weekday evening. If there is any flicker of activity in the football world its daytime schedule is cleared for analysis as well. Radio 5 Live runs phone-in specials and discussions whenever football is in the news. Independent local radio stations such as Capital Gold run hour-long football programmes every weekday evening. This is nothing compared with what happens when a game is actually played.
The Glenn Hoddle saga illustrates the hypnotic qualities of the footballing airwaves. His interview about the disabled appeared in the Times on a Saturday. He did not resign until the following Tuesday evening. This was a gift: four days of phone-ins about whether he should resign or not.
"What he said was a disgrace, Alan. I have got no doubt he has got to go." (Talk Radio)
"He should have gone after the World Cup, David." (Radio 5 Live)
Then, when it was obvious that he was going to get the boot, the mood changed.
"I think he should be given another chance, Jonathan." (Capital Gold)
"The newspapers have hounded him out, Richard. It's a disgrace." (Radio 5 Live)
More than likely these callers were the same ones who phoned earlier calling on him to go. As in a football match itself, where they alternately acclaim and vilify their team, supporters are fickle beasts.
But what were all the stations going to do once Hoddle had gone? What bliss it was to be alive in the days that followed. First there was another 24 hours of calls about whether he should have been sacked . . . Brian Hayes, Nicky Campbell, Scott Chisholm. The themes were exactly the same, but now we were looking back on the deed rather than debating whether the deed should be done.
Next came the chance to speculate on who should get the job permanently. For a moment in the days that followed there seemed to be a mini-crisis on the airwaves. Howard Wilkinson had been appointed for one match at least. There did not seem much material for debate here. But then Talk Radio manoeuvred itself away from the threat of silence: if Wilkinson was to be made England manager who should replace him at the FA as technical director? Another three hours were filled. One caller suggested that Sunderland's manager, Peter Reid, deserved the post. This prompted a spate of calls about who might replace Reid at Sunderland if he replaced Wilkinson if Wilko replaced Hoddle as the England manager. The drama was brought to a close only when the presenter concluded Reid would not be offered the post, and would not accept it if he was, which he would not be. Phew.
There was another moment of panic when one of the programmes on Capital Gold speculated that, after days of speculation, nobody at all was available to be England manager. Fortunately the next caller phoned in to say that when the likes of Keegan and Robson said they did not want the job, it meant they did. We were off again.
"And which of those two do you think it should be?" shouted Jonathan Pearce.
"Oh, neither of them. I just wanted to make the point that it could be one of them. I think it should be Arsene Wenger. But then I'm an Arsenal supporter, so I would say that."
"But that means you would lose him at Arsenal," responded Pearce.
"That's a good point, Jonathan. I hadn't thought of that. I'd much prefer him to stay at Arsenal."
These discussions are mere training for match days themselves. On a Wednesday it has to be Richard Littlejohn, who is usually in despair at something or other. Last week, after an appalling display from England, I took the radio to bed. While my partner read obituaries of Iris Murdoch, I was listening to an exchange along these lines:
"That's the worst England display I have ever seen, Richard. It's time for some drastic action. I would get rid of the whole team and start all over again. It's the only way we're going to qualify for the European championships."
"So who would you pick then, Arthur?"
"Well, you've got to have young Owen because he's always capable of scoring. Shearer's past his best, but he's still world class on his day. I'd have Seaman in goal . . ."
And on it went until the great Littlejohn responded: "But that was the team that played tonight."
There was a short pause before the genius on the end of the line responded, "Well, perhaps the tactics should be changed instead". In an ideal world there would be never-ending phone-ins on subjects that really affect our lives. The finance committee of Newcastle council will take decisions that matter much more to the people of Newcastle than who Ruud Gullit picks for his teams.
But sod it. The airwaves are alive to dialogue and plots that neither a Beckett nor a Pinter could conjure up. At least all the participants are real. The fantasy lies in the belief that the subject they are discussing has any importance whatever.
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