Television
Good sports
Simon Hoggart
Isometimes wonder how well-known commentators would cope with other sports. The late Brian Johnson, for exam- ple, seemed to regard cricket as a tiresome distraction from the party he was attending with his chums in the BBC box. I was once listening to what turned out to be an excit- ing and unexpected England victory against the West Indies, and Johnson actually failed to tell us that the winning runs had been scored. Put him at a soccer match, say England v. Germany last year, and at the moment when Gareth Southgate stepped up to the penalty spot, Johnson would have been burbling about cake.
The Wimbledon commentary this year was, as usual, fairly uninformative — plenty of 'the crowd on the edge of their seats now', 'nobody here on Centre Court could say they're not getting value for money' and so forth — but it would have been worse with John Motson. 'Oh, yes!', 'What a great match this is proving to be', and 'I dare say Tim Henman won't forget this in a hurry!'
Murray Walker would have brought his own special magic to his weekend's Open Championship at Troon. 'Yes, and Tiger has hit the ball, what a big hit it is, and I can't remember seeing a hit as big as this one, ooh, for a long time, and [voice rising to a shriek] it's going very near the hole thing in the middle of that green bit .
Now Murray has a commentating part- ner for ITV's coverage of Formula One racing, and it's like having a blindfold removed. Martin Brundle is a real racing- car driver himself, and with every word he speaks reveals the unplumbed depths of Murray's ignorance. Brundle knows what is going on, and tells you. He describes what it's like driving on a tyre with a bald patch, how it feels sitting in the pit while the mechanics screw up (or fail to screw up) your wheel nuts, the thousand and one obsessive details a driver has to bear in mind, such as the one-second reduction in speed per lap for every ten litres of fuel you have on board, how to pass a driver who doesn't want you to pass, why Heinz- Harald Frentzen stalled his engine (the much-derided German who replaced Damon Hill in the Williams car has become a Teutonic Mr Bean, each succes- sive disaster delighting the crowd more).
In short, Brundle knows a very great deal and is anxious to pass it on. Formula One, which to most people is a parade of noisy cars going round in circles, suddenly became a sport of fascinating, complex strategy, packed with drama and human interest.
Yet there is a case for the Walkers, the Johnsons and the Motsons. As aficionados they act as our representatives at the game, and, since they have slightly less knowledge than the average spectator, we can feel cosily superior to them. You do need a know-all, but you also need a know-not-a- lot sitting next to him, communicating the sensation of being a fan, and they do that job pretty well.
Frasier is back on Channel 4, and on bet- ter form than ever. Last week's episode was a beautifully crafted, chamfered farce, almost worthy of Fawlty Towers. Indeed, the whole show has a glossy-yet-British feel to it. Three of last week's characters were English, and Frasier's camp, niminy-piminy brother Niles, though American, is mod- elled on the American idea of a British snob.
The show's skill is in the accumulation of tiny details: Niles starting the day by pluck- ing the raisins and bran husks out of his muffin; the throwaway lines (to a narcolept who phones in to Frasier's radio show: 'By the way, I'd reconsider applying for that job in air traffic control'); the way that, while the plot becomes wonderfully implausible, the dialogue always remains this side of realistic, only rarely lapsing into sitcom-speak. Daphne, the physio from Manchester who inexplicably lives with Frasier and Niles, clearly owes a lot to Bubble from Absolutely Fabulous, yet talks like a real Manchester girl — quite an achievement for an American show.
The psychiatrist who is slightly bonkers is a stock comic figure, but the joke in Frasier is that the people round him are even mad- der. Like Victor Meldrew, Dr Crane is a terrific fusspot, but he has a lot to be fussed about. He is a fine and subtle comic creation.
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