Football, Games, and Play with ‘Match of the Day’

This isn’t my usual subject and sports doesn’t run in our family, but I’m often drawn to this world of victory and defeat, even carrying Des Lynam and David Teasdale’s ‘Sporting Word’ around with me for their inspiring, insightful, or hilarious quotes of athletes, managers, and commentators alike. Especially interesting to me as an armchair observer is football as televised ‘spectacle,’ this performance like no other, somewhere between rehearsed battle and unrehearsed ballet, a Greek tragedy and comedy all in one (Mundial magazine is great fun to read if you're into this sort of thing!). ‘Match of the Day’ is the perfect entertaining intersection of sports and social history (for some reason it’s a treat to listen to the roaring, soothing (?) sounds of crowds over the decades). Making my way through the 60s to 80s episodes made me affectionately familiar with old (new to me) or forgotten names of players, towns, and Brian Clough (oh Brian Clough). They introduced me to the voices of John Motson, Kenneth Wolstenhome, and most important of all, Barry Davies.

This long rambling intro to say that this is my love letter to Barry as sports commentator, absolutely thrilling for someone like me who doesn’t particularly mind who’s winning or even who’s playing, but I can listen to his voice for ages (like literally, just listen, you don’t even have to watch the game). Often, he says nothing at all, tensely excitedly naming whoever’s got the ball, following the match over the ocean-like chorus of spectators. And you can’t help but feel like you’re there in the stands as he turns the game into a story, just a bit: from his pace to his inflections, slowing down or picking up, matter-of-fact reporting and then suddenly his weird, wonderful declarations of praise, his madly catching, life-affirming surprise or elation at every score that makes you feel as on top of the world as that lucky player. A spectacular guide to this theatre of chance Xo