VOICES OF SPORT

Casting my mind back, funny how it is always back and not forward these days (!), I try to evoke my memories of sporting occasions, and always I hear voices, famous, plummy, friendly voices redolent of a different age.

My earliest memories from the 1940s and 1950s are of Scottish football commentators on the BBC where excitable Peter Thomson and partisan George Davidson held undisputed court. We were dependent on the radio, BBC Light Programme, but it was not beyond making the odd gaffe. I do not remember if it were Peter or George who, in those pre-substitute days, assured us in a game against England “Scotland are playing 10 men without Cox”, a handicap indeed!

          Raymond Glendenning

Harry Carpenter

Some voices were versatile, like old-school, bespeckled and handle-bar-moustached Raymond Glendenning who brought us Cup Finals, but also thrilling us with the Boat Race and the Grand National. Harry Carpenter was particularly associated with boxing, but also turned his hand towards football, tennis and golf. Boxing was a radio feast in the 1950s, the dominant Americans making short work of the likes of Bruce Woodcock, Don Cockrell and later “Our ‘Enery” Cooper. Eamonn Andrews was much involved in boxing commentary in those days, ably assisted by former referee W. Barrington Dalby.

Cricket was avidly followed and the eloquent West Country tones of John Arlott delighted. But the star of them all was Brian Johnston, instantly recognized with his banter and giggles. His humour was of the schoolboy variety and he enjoyed cakes sent in by listeners. He was rather prone to gaffes and once observed that “Botham failed to get his leg over the wicket” and (probably apocryphally) he is credited with the line, at a West Indies test match; “The bowler’s Holding, the batsman’s Willey”. The comma saved the blushes!

 

                                                           Brian Johnston

                                                   

                                                                       Peter Alliss

There were broadcasting heroes in most sports. Wimbledon was blessed with the sharp intake of breath and the gentle exclamation “Oh, I say!” from veteran Dan Maskell as a champion’s forehand passing shot won the point. Peter O’Sullevan amazed with his ability to reel off the places of all runners and riders in the big flat race at machine-gun speed. Peter Alliss, no mean golfer himself, took a gently philosophic view of the game, illuminating The Open or The Masters, who knew how easy it is to fluff a short putt. Murray Walker, who died only a few weeks ago at 97, was a hugely enthusiastic commentator on Formula 1 motor-racing, his screaming voice drowning out the clamour of even that noisy sport.

Football always had the largest following. Kenneth Wolstenholme was a familiar if unspectacular voice but he achieved immortality in the 1966 World Cup Final with his line: “Some people are on the pitch….they think it is all over….well it is now!” as Geoff Hurst hammered the 4^th goal into the German net. Ecstasy! Wolstenholme was replaced by David Coleman, another able professional commentator, but then football fell mainly into the hands of former players – Ian St John, Jimmy Greaves and Gary Lineker. They are all articulate but I particularly enjoy the Northern tones of Alan Shearer and the surprise of Martin Keown, an almost sinister predator on the field but a reflective being in the studio.

      

                             Ian St John and Jimmy Greaves

The sport I most enjoy watching is rugby union with the 6 Nations the most prominent forum. One commentator towered over all others, Bill McLaren, a native of Hawick in the Scots Borders, but a modest expert on all aspects of rugby.  

The incomparable Bill McLaren

 His turn of phrase, in his rich accent, was delightful. “I look at Colin Meads and see a great big sheep farmer who carried the ball in his hands as though it was an orange pip.” or, of an elusive Scottish scrum-half; “He’s like a demented ferret up a wee drainpipe” Bravo Bill, we miss you!

There are other rugby commentators deserving mention notably, calm Eddie Butler, the grotesquely partisan Jonathan Davies for Wales and Brian Moore for England enlivening debate.

I am conscious that my favourites are all “male and pale”, and I acknowledge female and BAME sporting voices and their growing contribution. This tribute is aimed mainly at figures from the past who gave great pleasure to at least 3 generations. A big Thank-You!

 

SMD

25.03.21

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2021

THE ROYAL SOAP OPERA

 

Most of us are heartily sick of hearing and reading about our UK royals, their quarrels, oddities and scandals. A hysterical atmosphere has been created by the much-hyped US TV interview from Los Angeles chaired by Oprah Winfrey allowing The Sussexes, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, to parade their grievances, including alleged racism and the indifference to their mental health problems, shown to them by the royal family. I suspect their case has been much exaggerated but the institutions of our monarchy need to be overhauled radically when the Queen passes from the scene.

Oprah’s recriminatory Bear-Pit

Like most Britons, I was delighted when Harry married Meghan and I suppose I largely accepted the fairy-tale narrative of the handsome prince marrying the beautiful commoner. The ceremony at Windsor was magical with Prince Charles winning Brownie-points for escorting Meghan down the aisle. The fact that Meghan was a mixed-race American divorcee was not deemed a problem in the general enthusiasm. Meghan scrubbed up well, dressed elegantly, smiled at the right times and she seemed a positive asset and boost for the royal family.

But it was not to be. Soon stories emerged of Meghan’s demanding ways and the ghastly nature of her mercenary father Thomas and half-sister Samantha. A feud between Harry and Prince William developed, allegedly egged on by Meghan and Kate. Despite Harry’s excellent work with the Invicta Games charity for disabled service men and their residual popularity, the Sussexes talked of stepping back from their duties as full-time royals. After much wrangling, the palace decreed that it was not possible to be “half-in and half-out” of the royals. The Sussexes moved first to Canada and then to an $11m home in Los Angeles. They had to surrender their charity patronages and Harry his military ranks, a heavy blow. However, they have devoted much energy to commercial money-making ventures, one of their motives for leaving The Firm, and an inevitable source of tension.

Which brings us to the Oprah interview. Oprah’s place of reverence in American society is a mystery to many Brits, but let that pass. Meghan adopted her little-girl-lost tearful victimhood pose- she is in fact an experienced showbiz actress on her second marriage – whilst Harry placidly gave credence to slurs against his own family and the mental torture he and Meghan supposedly endured. They were oblivious to the enormous benefits they enjoyed from their privileged and affluent life-style, cocking a snook at ordinary Britons.

The only subject upon which I would agree with them is that the British press and media are disgracefully intrusive and unscrupulous – as exemplified by the obsessional malignity of the likes of Piers Morgan, breaking all reasonable boundaries.

The supposed Victims

To my eyes, Meghan is an attractive and talented woman but in retrospect she was completely miscast as a UK Royal Princess. This really emanates from being American. The Americans are open and direct, restraint and discretion are less valued. Americans are opinionated and emote shamelessly – a world away from British reserve and notions of privacy. It was a doomed enterprise from the start. She is a natural for the Democratic presidential nomination in the 2030s – after all, the Americans voted in hordes for Donald Trump, so expect the unexpected!

Prince Harry has burned his bridges with Britain and the Royal Family and now cuts a sad figure. His future is much less clear if his Californian idyll falls apart. I support our system of constitutional monarchy which is running low on “working royals”.  I know they cost a lot and have too many palaces and flunkies. Prince Charles has plans substantially to slim down the monarchy when he accedes to the throne. The Family is far from squeaky-clean, scandals and hypocrisy abound but they are not racist. They are part of the fabric of our nation – long may they reign!

                                   The Queen, Charles, William and George

SMD      

15.03.21             

 Text Copyright ©Sidney Donald 2021

THE HAIRY-FACED

In Lockdown, I feel we should spend all this spare time on something useful. Were I younger, I would take up bridge-playing, learning Chinese or unlock the mysteries of Yoga, but I am not really someone who likes to break into a sweat or stretch my feeble intellect too far. Two days ago, I signed in to an Oxford webinar all about fake news, conspiracy theories and prejudiced media but it was a bit clever for me as it discussed at length something called QAnon, which is not on my radar. I retired hurt but partly enlightened.

But in time I found an ideal occupation. I am a Beard Grower, and am presently working hard on coaxing my untidy bristle into a well-managed Van Dyck ensemble. Eventually I will favour you with a photograph, but at present the beard is growing rather slowly and I look decidedly scruffy like one of those sad dossers who used to grace the environs of Waterloo Station, huddled in cardboard boxes. I do not need to make any great effort to chivvy along my beard, but I suppose I could look hard at the floor and clench my cheeks, but somehow, I doubt if it would make much difference. So, when Census Day arrives very soon on 21 March, I can enter under Occupation, the answer Beard Grower or even the grander Pogonologist – much more dynamic than the more conventional, if accurate, Retired Venture Capitalist.

My classically educated readers will all remember the Byzantine emperor Constans II Pogonatos (The Bearded) 630-668 AD, who was kept busy fighting the Moslem hordes.

                                      

A Solidus coin of Constans II Pogonatos

The Byzantines were fond of nicknames, not always complimentary. Thus Constantine V was known as Copronymos (The Dung-Named), after, as an infant, he defecated into his baptismal font, and further North the Icelandic warrior Herjolf was dubbed Hrokkineista (The Wrinkled Scrotum}, poor chap.

Returning to beards, I look forward to the 6 Nations rugby match on 14 March between Scotland and Ireland at Murrayfield, Edinburgh. I support my native Scotland, who have not won against Ireland for some time; Scotland can do it if they show the tactical nous and technical efficiency they demonstrated so impressively against England to win the Calcutta Cup on 6 February. No firm team selections yet but both sides have formidable bearded candidates – Josh Strauss for Scotland and Gordon D’Arcy for Ireland

   

           Josh Strauss                                Gordon D'Arcy

            As a Scotsman, my thoughts have also been stimulated by the appearance of First Minister Nicola Sturgeon before an investigating committee of the Scottish Parliament. I am not a fan and, while the 6-hour session was gruelling, I was not impressed by the political amnesia claimed by Nicola. Her evasive fanaticism is not attractive.

Beards are not political, though the great and the good in Victorian England (Ruskin, Dickens, Darwin, Tennyson et al) all sported one. Lord Salisbury, Prime Minister at the turn of the century, with a huge beard like a spade, was the last premier to do so.  I worry that my beard, which will be white and flowing, may turn out as looking similar to that of my bête noire, erstwhile Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn.

Jeremy Corbyn

If, by any chance, I start to spout Leftist claptrap or make wokeish pronouncements, blame the beard – I will shave it off immediately!

SMD

7.03.21

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2021