Take your 30 pieces and……….

22 04 2010


In the dim and distant past there were only four television channels. Yes that’s right, four. In those golden days reality TV was called “The News” and we had documentaries on every channel, even on ITV!! In that far off time the rivalry between the two main channels was fierce, it could even divide families.

Take a grandmother, oh go on, please take her! (© ITV 1982), and a father and we have a case in point. The grandmother was strict ITV and the father was devout BBC. You should have heard the cut and thrust of discussion. Now imagine the son/grandson, torn between two camps, between family members. Eventually he fell squarely into the BBC camp. Even though ITV had the A-Team and Knight Rider and League Football the  BBC had The TripodsDoctor Who and Alexei Sayle . There were no adverts on the BBC either.

Within this family environment a person making the move from one broadcaster to the other was seen as a treacherous barbarian. Without the goggles of partisanship such a move would be seen simply as a career decision;  a way to better wages, more exposure or even new ideas.

However it never felt like that, they were deserting us! Later in life this transgression changed into “deserting the public for the advertiser’s shilling” or “they’ve now become the mouthpiece for multinational bastards”. They went from being a calm and reasonable public servant to being an unneccessary hype-creator. After a while the son stopped to stare at other things; girls and the hit parade, so he let sleeping dogs lie.

This long-lost feeling re-entered the son’s mind once again in the last week when it was announced that Adrian Chiles had become a turncoat. Apparently he will become the voice of ITV’s football. Now Adrian offered a change from the usual smarmy, smug or inept hosting. He was light, relatively amusing and “one of us” so he will be missed, as much as you can missed the presenter of a late Sunday night television programme. He won’t be missed as much as Melvyn Bragg’s output mind you.

As television abhors a vacuum they will need somebody else to do the Sunday night footy thing, but who will it be? It gets scary here. The two favourites seem to be “Lovejoy, the arrogant knobend” (Barney Ronay beautifully dismisses him here) and Colin Murray. As they are both already paid by us to entertain the nation it would only mean a move to a new office within the same building, or to put it another way, convinience in the present “cutting public spending agenda”. To our mind it’s a  choice akin to; “Is it the Arsenic or the Anthrax poisoning you’re wanting sir?”

If the Jet Set ever felt the need to catch up on the Premier League action we knew where we were with Adrian. We were safe in the knowledge that the action would be encased in a gently sardonic West Brom flavoured wit. We liked the pundits too; Lee Dixon and Martin Keown could offer a new view and even a funny comment without using well-worn clichés. 

Now they action will be mutilated by one of  two people whose broadcasting style could grate cheese. One’s a starfucker extraordinaire greatly impressed by the showbiz glam of JT et al. The other is an “Out of Town Premier League fan” who’s convinced he’s actually from Liverpool. They share the same capacity to regurgitate crap in front of a camera, this is a horrible, horrible, horrible prospect.

They could have James Richardson, as Barney suggests, or even entice Ray Stubbs but you fear it will be one of those abhorrent twats.



Now we’ve found out that they’ve chosen Colin Murray, on top of Icelandic eruptions is this proof of a coming apocalypse?




2 responses

23 04 2010

Yes, Alan Shearer as the equilibrium is an unnerving thought.

23 04 2010

“Lee Dixon and Martin Keown could offer a new view and even a funny comment without using well-worn clichés.”

The modern intelligence of The Arsenal as opposed to the Tired, old, over-obsessed with the past Liverpool on the main show you mean?

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