Jelleyman’s Thrown a Wobbly: Saturday Afternoons in Front of the Telly. Jeff Stelling. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jeff Stelling
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Спорт, фитнес
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007324316
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week.

      Gordon is difficult to get onto the show at the best of times because I don't think he enjoys doing live interviews. This time, we'd convinced him to talk to us. But as he came onto the camera, the first thing he said was, ‘I don't know why I agreed to do this.’ Moments later, I could see his point - the sprinkler systems splashed into life and he had to make a dash for the sidelines.

      Our old mate Harry Redknapp was actually struck by a football while doing a recorded piece with Soccer Saturday. He was at the Southampton training ground. As he spoke to the camera, a ball came out of nowhere and struck him on the back. He was furious. Harry turned around to see who it was and in a heartbeat shouted out, ‘No wonder you're in the fucking reserves.’ Priceless.

      TIME: 2:30

      THE PRE-MATCH BUILD-UP

      The calm before the storm. This is generally when the team lineups will come into the studio. At times we'll read these out on air, on other occasions we'll cut to our roving match reporters for a rundown on formations, teamsheets and injury updates. It gives the panel a chance to air their opinions on how various teams will shape up for the afternoon and what they'll be hoping to achieve tactically. It also gives us a chance to speculate on why various players have been included or dropped to the bench.

      It's at this point that we'll jump to our superstar roving reporter, Kammy, for the latest news on his designated game. Usually this is where any well-constructed plans are laid to rest, because Kammy is prone to fits of laughter and comical clumsiness. I remember on one occasion he was dispatched to Fulham, where a laughing fit even threatened to reduce the show to tatters. We'd sent him to Craven Cottage with the idea of presenting a pitchside report at around two thirty, hoping he could grab a quick word with either a manager or a player as they came off the field following the warm-up. I remember the big news at the time was that Fulham – who were involved in a relegation scrap – had just signed Sylvain Legwinski, a transfer that had taken place at around the same time as the Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky scandal.

      ‘Would you believe it, Jeff,’ giggled Kammy. ‘His new teammates are already referring to him as Monica.’

      I couldn't help myself. ‘That may be so, Kammy, but are Fulham going down as well?’

      I knew what was coming. Kammy started to giggle. And he giggled and giggled. The panel began laughing and, within seconds, tears were streaming down his face. I could see in the background that the teams were running off the pitch and he hadn't even spoken to anyone. The piece was ruined, but in the nicest possible way.

      TIME: 3:01

      THE FIRST HALF

      A goal at Selhurst Park.

      Another red card for Robbie Savage.

      News of a goal at Gillingham.

      A flurry of bookings in the game between City and Spurs.

      Is that a penalty at Celtic?

      Panic over, no goal at Gillingham.

      But there is one at Fratton Park. Can we cut to Chris Kamara for a report?

      A shout from Paul Merson in the studio.

      Matt Le Tissier texting his friend from behind the desk.

      Goal at Anfield!

      ‘And we're going to Portsmouth, where there's been an early goal: Chris Kamara …’

      ‘Unbelievable, Jeff!’

      Welcome to approximately seven live seconds in the world of Soccer Saturday. From the moment the first whistles ring out around the country, the show takes on an element of adrenalized chaos: at times, goals and cards can trickle in at a snail's pace. At others, the action can come in thick and fast. There really is no way of telling.

      It's at this stage that the studio takes on an unusual atmosphere. We have three cameramen in front of us and an office where our producer, Ian Condron, and his assistants keep an eye on the scores. It's their job to decide where the show should go in terms of match reports and updates. It's my job at this stage to watch the scores as they come in and update the viewer, while linking the show to match reports, both in and out of the studio.

      From here, you never really know how the show is going to pan out. The only guarantee is that it will be bloody exciting. Sometimes, there are moments of intense action when I'll think, ‘For god's sake, please don't let anyone score for a few minutes,’ just so I can catch up with the scores, scorers and events that are going on in approximately 75 games across the country. Then there are other times when I'll be sitting there wondering if the videprinter is actually working because absolutely nothing has happened for the best part of five minutes. These moments of prolonged calm are the ones I dread the most. You can chat with panellists to pass the time and kill any dead air between goal reports, but it's really a case of keeping the show ticking over in order to maintain the viewer's interest.

      Suddenly, there will be a flurry of action: goals, penalty appeals, bookings … In the back of the mind you know that at any second you could have to deal with 20 goals in two frantic minutes, not to mention a blur of yellow cards and sendings-off (especially if Rob Styles is reffing any of the games that afternoon). This is also the moment when the panel begins its afternoon chorus of yells, squeals and general shouting, which creates a real sense of drama as they watch their games. There's nothing like watching Paul Merson grunting and groaning his way through a Portsmouth match.

      Believe it or not, in the early days of the show, panellists were told that they shouldn't be shouting out at all, and even now they're not encouraged to make all that noise, but it just happens naturally, mainly because they become so engrossed in their games. I think it really adds to the atmosphere and sense of occasion for the viewer. There you are, viewer, on your sofa, sandwich or scotch egg in hand, and you'll hear a shout off camera. If it's from one of the panellists commentating on your team, then it can make for a heart-racing moment, especially if the goal has gone your way.

      I think Rodney Marsh first brought that sense of excitement and drama to the show, simply by shouting. But then Rodney would shout about just about everything – even if somebody had won a throw-in. At first it was all part of his act, and there was a feeling that he would do it for effect sometimes, but over the course of the last 10 years, it's become one of the show's trademarks.

      Meanwhile, my eyes at this stage of the programme are focused almost completely on the videprinter which displays the latest scores and scorers as they happen. This is the most important tool I have at my disposal, because it's my link to the outside world. I've also got a little box on my desk which plays eight different live channels, or games, so I can flick to different matches - if I see or hear that something is happening four seats away in Charlie's chair, then I can flick to TV number four and check on what he's watching. From there, I can instantly see which team is celebrating, who has scored the goal, who has made the mistake that has led to a penalty, and why the ref is incorrectly booking somebody, and so on. It puts me in a position where I can also add comments to the situation if needed. I might get to see a replay of something, but generally I haven't got time to do that and I'll try to get to the relevant commentator as quickly as I can. Everything flies by in a blur.

      TIME: 3:21

      THE AD BREAK

      At last, a breather. Tea and biscuits all round. One of the show's biggest masterstrokes was convincing advertisers to allow us to continually run the latest scores across the screen during the ad break. This was an idea of Vic Wakeling's, the MD of Sky Sports. By maintaining the levels of action and a constant news-feed while the viewers are bombarded with images of tea-drinking chimps (no, not us!) and plutonium-strength deodorants, we've ensured the action rarely lets up in pace. As a result, these are probably the most-watched adverts on the telly. We weren't sure whether the advertisers would go for it when we first suggested the idea, but the one thing we all knew was that ad breaks were the only time that people generally get up and make a cup of tea or turn over.