I was sad to learn of the death of Tim Gudgin earlier this week. Who he? Well his was the voice reading out the footie results on a Saturday evening on BBC grandstand. And if you were a footie fan ahhh; his mellow mellifluous tones were just wonderful. You could guess the result simply from his lyrical delivery. Blackpool winning at home against Man City would be delivered Blackpool 4… in a rising tone – you knew already they’d won – Man City 0… in a deeper more depressing and lower tone. Glorious. I can hear him now. Though I have to admit it’s been a while since I’ve actually heard that scoreline.
Oh joy of joys. Did you hear that that great homophobe/misogynist Mr Potato Head is making a comeback on radio? I know seems unlikely after t’Yerkshire gimp was kicked out of Radio 1 three years ago for calling a spade a gay shovel and failing to cut it as a stage actor (titter) or tv sleb. But now Xfm Radio has been re-launched as Blerks’ RadioX and 42 year old PH (or to give him his native American name, Dresses Like a Farmer, Eats Like a Pig) has been recruited to do his dj thang once again playing music and discussing topics with no appeal whatsoever to the ladeez. Like Vindaloo and Leeds Utd’s most admirable managers. Oh and they’ve recruited Chris Moyles too.
Here’s an image of the great Nelson Mandela on the day of his release from prison. Those images of him strolling down the road proudly will never fade. He could have been a bitter man but with massive grace and statesmanship he went on to repair a broken country and create a rainbow nation. Frankly only he could have done it and in doing so he became a hero to the world. His passing leaves an unfillable void.
I’m drawn to listening to Talksport radio. My wife hates it and my daughters too; it must be all that blokeish bickering about whether it was a penalty or not. I know what they mean to me honest; it’s full of inane chat and despite having schedules full of ex-footballers/managers it rarely delivers any insight. You could listen to messrs Quinn, Gould, Cundy and Warnock for a 100 hours apiece and never get beyond the cliche-ridden level of comment. It’s like being trapped in a conversation with Alan Shearer but with some cackling thrown in for good measure. So why do I listen to it? Because I love words and phrasing and there’s something compelling about the way footballers talk, the little expressions they use and have all adopted. The undisputed master of the footie jargon is the man with the most endearing rhotic speech mannerism Ray Parlour, often referred to as the Romford Pele, or as Ray would introduce himself Way Pahwer, the Womfud Pehwy. Continue reading
Regular readers will know that from time to time I’ll write something complimentary about people in the media spotlight. And sometimes I might write something which is a little less flattering about celebrity A or politician B or desperate wannabee/has been C (surely not, I hear you cry). And just occasionally the targets of my acidic little critiques will stumble across my posting as they Google their name, no doubt in the vain search for public adoration. And a few are confident enough to come back and give as much as they get via the comments box. I love that. Continue reading
I’ve been catching up with lots of UK tv as you can tell from recent blogs and whilst it is immeasurably better than Italian telly in terms of general quality (although nothing comes close to matching their presenters), it’s still full of truly annoying people. And I’m sure it can’t be just me.
We’re heading back to the delights of Italian TV very shortly. I’ve mocked it many times but I tell you what, the situation at the BBC is getting just as bad. You’d think after all that furore over the Queen’s documentary, then the Jonathan Ross/Russell Brand debacle they’d be pulling out all the stops to prevent any further on-air howlers. Well on Sunday evening something was pulled out all right; John Barrowman’s ‘fruit and nuts’. By all accounts that’s ‘all it was’ – presumably he spared us the dairy milk. Continue reading