Bumble Lloyd: dour, and narrow (apparently)

The New Statesman don't get it

Jason Cowley in The New Statesman talks about Test Match Special in political and class terms. He seems unhappy about Brian Johnston's being “trapped in a kind of perpetual early adolescence” and “turning the TMS commentary box into something resembling a prep-school tea party, with its cakes and nicknames...”.

I thought Johnston was hilarious. Perhaps he appealed to part of me trapped forever in early-adolescence. Perhaps that's the part I like to call my sense of humour. Perhaps Cowley ought to extract his head from up his arse.

He goes on to say that there were “first rate and interesting characters dropping by” to be interviewed by Jonathan Agnew. Including, according to Cowley, David Cameron, Ed Miliband, Chris Patten, and members of Keane.

I'd dispute the first rate and interesting description. That little list sounds like the bland leading the bland. Cam-moron and Mili-bland were only there to cynically score political points. Mili-bland is new labour. Blair's new labour, the party that recalled its minister for sport from attending the rugby world cup final England won when there was a risk of losing a tight vote in the commons. Yes, Ed, that says it all about your party. Blair deliberately drafted and passed vague legislation on fox hunting. The 'sport' Cam-moron takes part in. If you need a stupid red coat and a horse, it isn't sport in any real terms. If it involves ripping a terrified creature limb from limb, well that's just barbarism.

I suppose The New Statesman is a political magazine, and therefore skewed to thinking that politics is important and interesting. Which it is, compared to, say, reality television or knitting tea cosies, and which it very much isn't, compared to sport.

Cowley then gets things horribly wrong: “How this [Test Match Special] variety contrasts with the dour, narrow professionalism of the Sky commentary team. They are former cricketers every one and, with the admirable exception of Mike Atherton, seem to know little of the world beyond the cricket pitch, the golf course and the wine cellar.” David Lloyd dour and narrow? Michael Holding knows nothing of the world?

Cowley finishes with a CLR James quote, to paraphrase: what do they know of politics who only politics know?

He should know better. He did a good job with the Observer Sports Monthly. He's published a book about our current crop of politicians most hated sport, football. Up until Thatcher, our prime minister would attend the cup final. If she had her way she would have nuked the stadiums, fans and players up and down the country at three o'clock on her first Saturday in power. Her boy Tone was the same. His buddy Brown went for the man of the people thing by claiming to relax by watching garbage TV rather than using the sport angle.

It angers me when people make false claims about their love of sport for whatever reasons. From the bloke on the train loudly reciting what the papers and pundits have said in an attempt to be one of the lads, to the politicians pretending to follow cricket. The guy in the debating chamber with a badly concealed earphone in, the one punching the air for no seeming reason during the endless debate on whether broccoli in school meals constitutes cruelty to children, that's the true follower, enthusiast, the real deal. He's not listening by choice. He has no choice. He has to listen to the game over and above anything else. If you don't need to keep up with the test match / six nations / football, if you feel you have a choice, fine, off you go, join the nerds, wimps, and please-sir-can-I-be-excused-games-I-have-a-note-from-my-mum gang over there. No-one will think any less of you, unless and until you start to pretend, start sneaking over into our territory.