While the newpaper industry dies, Rod Liddle rejoices
This weekend, the national papers gave us an indication of just how many freelance sub-editors they have laid off during the recession. A smaller band of regular subs is now trawling through more and more content, and standards are slipping, with the appalling result that Rod Liddle is being afforded more and more space, like a creeping, insidious plague.
As an example of the mistakes creeping in around the industry, The Independent, as part of its double-page graphic spread about MPs' expenses, had John Prescott listed as the Prime Minister. It's almost possible that this was a joke, but in the circumstances you would think not. Nontheless, there he was; his picture, his little info-box detailing his expenses claims, and there underneath his name was his title: Prime Minister.
Elsewhere, and arguably less embarrassingly, The Sunday Times published an article about England cricketer Ravi Bopara. David Gower wrote the words, and with it came a helpful info-box to guide the reader through the young batsman's career so far- except they had him down as a Sussex player, when he is actually an Essex player. It's how the England coach Andy Flower, who used to be at Essex, knows so much about him. And defeats the point of an info-box, really.
Yet this was far from the most heinous of the weekend's errors. In what can only be described as a monumental error, some editorial misadventure, some diabolical breakdown in communication, allowed Rod Liddle almost two full pages of The Sunday Times sport section. It may be wishful thinking to call this a mistake, but the idea that he would be given so much room by an editor sound of mind and proficiency is frankly unthinkable.
There he was, postulating and posturing: he, Liddle, the fan's voice of the Sunday times. An antidote to the elitism of the rest of the paper - he brings a taste of the terraces, a glimpse of Millwall circa 1989. Hence this weekend's missive, containing a list of which Chelsea players he'd like to punch, and how Millwall never get a penalty, so by some twisted logic, Chelsea shouldn't be upset when they are denied two or three genuine claims in a Champions League semi-final, a level of football Millwall haven't threatened to reach for a while.
Except he doesn't really like to do the terrace view any more. He's started writing like a 'proper' sports writer, diagnosing problems in Chelsea's team, the reasons why he, Rod Liddle, who seeth and knoweth all, was happy that they lost to Barcelona - as if his spiteful feelings on the matter are somehow newsworthy. The headline shouldn't have been about Chelsea, it should have been about Liddle.
"Monumental arrogance and the belief in their divine right to win, that nothing should stand in their way" is what Liddle points to as the worst of Chelsea's sins. If he's going to pose as a proper sports writer, Liddle needs to start reading some proper sports books - Ed Smith, author of What Sport Tells Us About Life, may well agree that Chelsea exhibited these characteristics; but in his book he recognises that those very traits are what make these players so fascinating, often the very reason for their success, and if they're not appealing, at least they make for good theatre.
It is part of how they operate at the highest level; Smith's analysis of Zinedine Zidane being a perfect example. Zidane, he wrote, was a man who had all his life believed, and proved, his ability to choose his own future, to decide destiny by virtue of his extraordinary talent. Then, in the match meant to be his swansong, Zidane wasn't winning, wasn't controlling the play, or his destiny - and had no mechanism with which to cope. His destiny was out of his hands, even his talent could not win the World Cup for France and allow him to retire on that note. So he headbutted the Italian defender Matterazzi, and a new destiny was chosen.
It may be self-indulgent to credit the pampered, whinging footballers with being anything more than just self-aggrandizing egomaniacs. I say self-indulgent because we all want sport to mean more than simply people more talented than us making money out of our adoration for them. But it's got to be a better way of looking at things that Liddle manages.
Chelsea aren't a pleasant bunch to watch sometimes, but to play at that high level, there is an element of the Zidane mentality in every one of those players; even when their talent is a fraction of his, the mentality of being a professional sportsman demands a bit of that arrogance, that often-curious belief in destiny. In many cases, it's the entire point.
As an example of the mistakes creeping in around the industry, The Independent, as part of its double-page graphic spread about MPs' expenses, had John Prescott listed as the Prime Minister. It's almost possible that this was a joke, but in the circumstances you would think not. Nontheless, there he was; his picture, his little info-box detailing his expenses claims, and there underneath his name was his title: Prime Minister.
Elsewhere, and arguably less embarrassingly, The Sunday Times published an article about England cricketer Ravi Bopara. David Gower wrote the words, and with it came a helpful info-box to guide the reader through the young batsman's career so far- except they had him down as a Sussex player, when he is actually an Essex player. It's how the England coach Andy Flower, who used to be at Essex, knows so much about him. And defeats the point of an info-box, really.
Yet this was far from the most heinous of the weekend's errors. In what can only be described as a monumental error, some editorial misadventure, some diabolical breakdown in communication, allowed Rod Liddle almost two full pages of The Sunday Times sport section. It may be wishful thinking to call this a mistake, but the idea that he would be given so much room by an editor sound of mind and proficiency is frankly unthinkable.
There he was, postulating and posturing: he, Liddle, the fan's voice of the Sunday times. An antidote to the elitism of the rest of the paper - he brings a taste of the terraces, a glimpse of Millwall circa 1989. Hence this weekend's missive, containing a list of which Chelsea players he'd like to punch, and how Millwall never get a penalty, so by some twisted logic, Chelsea shouldn't be upset when they are denied two or three genuine claims in a Champions League semi-final, a level of football Millwall haven't threatened to reach for a while.
Except he doesn't really like to do the terrace view any more. He's started writing like a 'proper' sports writer, diagnosing problems in Chelsea's team, the reasons why he, Rod Liddle, who seeth and knoweth all, was happy that they lost to Barcelona - as if his spiteful feelings on the matter are somehow newsworthy. The headline shouldn't have been about Chelsea, it should have been about Liddle.
"Monumental arrogance and the belief in their divine right to win, that nothing should stand in their way" is what Liddle points to as the worst of Chelsea's sins. If he's going to pose as a proper sports writer, Liddle needs to start reading some proper sports books - Ed Smith, author of What Sport Tells Us About Life, may well agree that Chelsea exhibited these characteristics; but in his book he recognises that those very traits are what make these players so fascinating, often the very reason for their success, and if they're not appealing, at least they make for good theatre.
It is part of how they operate at the highest level; Smith's analysis of Zinedine Zidane being a perfect example. Zidane, he wrote, was a man who had all his life believed, and proved, his ability to choose his own future, to decide destiny by virtue of his extraordinary talent. Then, in the match meant to be his swansong, Zidane wasn't winning, wasn't controlling the play, or his destiny - and had no mechanism with which to cope. His destiny was out of his hands, even his talent could not win the World Cup for France and allow him to retire on that note. So he headbutted the Italian defender Matterazzi, and a new destiny was chosen.
It may be self-indulgent to credit the pampered, whinging footballers with being anything more than just self-aggrandizing egomaniacs. I say self-indulgent because we all want sport to mean more than simply people more talented than us making money out of our adoration for them. But it's got to be a better way of looking at things that Liddle manages.
Chelsea aren't a pleasant bunch to watch sometimes, but to play at that high level, there is an element of the Zidane mentality in every one of those players; even when their talent is a fraction of his, the mentality of being a professional sportsman demands a bit of that arrogance, that often-curious belief in destiny. In many cases, it's the entire point.
Labels: Sport / Media
posted by Matt at 9:48 am
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