Marathon Man

by Rick Johansen

Controversial? Moi? Well, I’ll have a go, then.

My TV guide for tomorrow says that normal programming has been set aside for Athletics. That wouldn’t normally be a bad thing, but it’s the bit that follows I can live without: the London Marathon. Thousands of people running. What a spectacle. And to make matters even worse, BBC Radio Five Live suspends normal activity to John Inverdale to bore for England. I really can wait.

Obviously, the course is something to behold. London really is an incredible place, as typical of the rest of Britain as New York is typical America, and happily the TV cameras catch the place at its very best. The seething mass of humanity jogging through it, however, leaves me cold. I did try to be interested in the early years, honest, when David Coleman would describe someone’s ‘PB’ (that’s personal best, in case you are interested: I’m not) as a runner whizzed by, dressed as a wine waiter and carrying a tray. Ha ha ha bleeding ha.

It seems to me there are four distinct types of runners:

1) The ‘elite’ athletes – that is ‘proper’ athletes at their lifetime physical peak who have a chance of winning.
2) Charity runners – people who are making a colossal physical commitment to complete the course and by way of the sponsorship they have secured to improve the lives of others. I like them best.
3) Running club members – runners who are good at running but don’t have a cat in hell’s chance of winning anything other than in the ‘Best Over 80’ category.
4) Idiots who take a couple of days to complete the 26 miles.

The main race itself is always interminably dull because it’s not why the London Marathon exists. The BBC recognises this and will always dwell more on the Pantomime Cow towards the rear of the race than the plucky Ethiopian or Kenyan who will always win, usually hotly pursued by another plucky Ethiopian or Kenyan. We will, of course, learn about the top British runner as he ambles in a mere 10 minutes after the winner.

The BBC commits enormous resources to the London Marathon presumably because it has a few bob to spare having lost the rights to so many sports in recent years, but herein surely lies the ultimate solution: let Rupert Murdoch’s Sky Sports put in a bid to cover it. Tell him how massively popular it is, exaggerate the viewing figures and pronounce it a national institution and before you can say ‘Monopoly!’ the Dirty Digger will buy it up, stick it on Sky Sports 4 and we can all watch something else on what is fast becoming the most boring sports event of the year.

I have an on and off switch – well, a handset these days – and I shall be utilising it to the full tomorrow. I am not all that interested to learn that Reg Sprogiss of Lower Turdwell has broken his over 65’s PB and I doubt that anyone other than Reg gives a flying fuck either, but for those of you who like this sort of thing, get the cocoa out, have an early night and prepare for an entire day’s TV coverage of the non event of the year. You know it doesn’t make sense.

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