As England were attempting to add to their 1-0 lead in last night’s World Cup Qualifier at Wembley, against a stubborn but limited Latvia, main commentator Sam Matterface addressed his co-commentator, former Arsenal full back Lee Dixon. “Do you think he (manager Thomas Tuchel) will be thinking about making changes if it stays like this?” In an instant, Dixon replied, “Absolutely!” No shit, Sherlock. Somehow I was reminded of the great cricket commentator Richie Benaud who lived by the cardinal principle, which was this: “Don’t speak unless you can add to the picture.” Dead air never troubles the great commentators. Matterface and Dixon are not, by any stretch of the imagination, great, or even good, commentators. I blame John Motson.
Growing up in 1960s and 1970s England, there was precious little football on television so it is hard to compare eras. And there were no co-commentators or panels of guests, usually ex players or managers, except at international games. On the BBC, the main commentator was Kenneth Wolstenholme, a former RAF war hero, who I don’t really remember apart from his legendary, “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now,” in extra time at the 1966 World Cup final. In 1971, Wolstenholme was replaced by the great David Coleman who introduced a form of minimalism to the concept of commentary. Essentially, he said as little as possible, often merely calling out the name of a player in possession and, when the first goal was scored, it was “One nil“. There was little by way of tactical explanation. Coleman’s job was to set the atmosphere, tell us which player was doing what and that was essentially it.
Also starting with the BBC in 1971 was a young commentator, a swotty private school educated young man called John Motson. He was a game-changer and not in a good way. He talked more than any previous commentator and started introducing a bewildering (to me) array of statistics to each game he described. I think it was Motty, as he became known, who first forced me to shout out in despair, “Won’t you just shut up?” But Motson didn’t shut up, at least not until his BBC commentary career ended in 2008. Far better than Motson was Barry Davies.
Another former private schoolboy, Davies was also a minimalist. He was arguably the best commentator at describing the atmosphere at a game, a natural ‘feel’ which eluded the likes of Motson. In the 2000s, the BBC inexplicably relegated Davies to a bits and pieces for football commentary, in favour of motormouth Motson, despite the former being an infinitely better commentator. When Davies left football commentary at the Beeb, he said this: “It is not a fit of pique I am leaving, but I wanted more than just doing a few minutes commentating on the roster. There is too much talk from commentators nowadays. Dramatic moments in football speak for themselves.” That was in 2004. Things are much worse now.
Yet there are still very good football commentators to be found. The best current commentator, Clive Tyldesley, famed for his brilliant double act with Ally McCoist, the pundit’s pundit, surely, was axed by ITV in 2020, and replaced, incomprehensibly, by the wretched Matterface. Clive is only available on US TV ‘soccer’ coverage these days – a big loss to televised football in England.
BBC Radio Five Live’s lead commentator John Murray leads the rest of the pack by miles, if you ask me, closely followed by the corporation’s excellent Ian Dennis. The less we say and hear about Jonathan Pearce, the better. On TNT, there’s Darren Fletcher who does talk too much, but if he is drowning out the worst co-commentator in the business Steve McManaman, certainly now that Jermaine Jenas has sex-texted his way out of the business, it can’t be that bad. I quite like Peter Drury on Sky, not least because he isn’t Liverpool hating Martin ‘AGUERO!’ Tyler, even if he does have the irritating tendency to get overexcited at the wrong times. But as the great Lionel Bart put it, Fings Ain’t Wot They Used T’be.
Mostly, I feel, it’s the incessant need to fill dead air. Where David Coleman would allow the viewer to watch the game and make their own mind up about what was going on, today’s commentator needs to ensure there is no silence at all. If it’s anything like Matterface, it’s the constant drip of trivia, inane and often irrelevant ‘facts’, desperately unfunny jokes and anecdotes (Dixon has a real talent for making the unfunny even more unfunny) and, worst of all, opinion. Tydlesley and McCoist – to be honest, almost anyone with McCoist sounds good or just better – are the exception, I grant you.
There is one word that regularly appears on the internet when you Google Matterface and that word is shit. “Sam Matterface. He’s going to commentate the final, and keep attempting “legendary” commentary lines, ffs. Feel shit just want Clive back.” “Shocker. Sam Matterface was shit when he first replaced him and he still is shit.” “How much shit does Sam Matterface speak.” “Sam Matterface stinks of shit, pass it on.” And so on and so on. Yet someone, at the higher echelons of ITV, presumably the same bloke who thinks Mark Pougatch is a decent presenter (spoiler alert: he isn’t), adores Matterface and gives him all the big football gigs.
I should add that this blog is not an attempt to suggest the wacky world of football commentary was oh so much better in the old days. Football commentary in said old days was mainly commentary on highlights. Now, thanks – is thanks the right word? Probably not – there are scores of games on every week. Actually it feels like there are scores of games on every day. As a result we have more commentators than ever. This gives me hope for the future because with any luck one of the new boys or girls will decide that their job is simple to tell us what’s going on and the co-commentator can add some technical expertise to the picture. Until then, we will have to put up with the worst commentating double act in football commentary history talking, well, shit. If you honestly think Matterface is good, you haven’t been listening properly.
