Tuesday, February 01, 2005

 

Sick as a parrot.

Someone somewhere (curse these faulty memory circuits) made a good point the other day; Rodney Marsh, the footie pundit (and ex-player of course) made a joke whilst on air about David Beckham that involved him being stupid, but because it made reference to the Tsunami disaster, it cost Rodders his job on Sky Sports.

"Dave Beckham has turned down a move to Newcastle after learning of the damage caused by the Toon Army in Asia"

Now, big Ron Atkinson lost his job for making a racist remark whilst still on air, that's a straight red card, no questions asked. But was Rodney Marsh making fun of the Tsunami disaster or David Beckham? OK, so being flippant about such a cataclysmic natural disaster may arguably warrant the "Neil Back" from a position as a broadcast reporter/journalist/pundit, but this was a natural disaster such as might come crashing down upon any of our heads in this mortal life. Surely the only way to deal with this sort of geographical sword of Damacles is to stride purposefully onwards regardless? The only other option open to us, it seems, is to cower under our bedsheets on a daily basis for fear of getting struck by lightning as soon as we step outside the front door?

Maybe I'm missing some key salient points here - I assume that there is a clause on broadcasting contracts that says "Thou shalt not joke about current events of a mortal magnitude whilst on air", but that smacks of double standards. What if Ron Atkinson had spat out his racial bile to his fellow commentators when the mics were off (as he had thought they were at the time)? Would he still have been fired? These people are brought into commentary because of their expert knowledge of the game, not because of their socio-political skills.

It's just an interesting can of worms, although in my opinion football coverage has been a bit pony since big Ron applied for his P45. Rodney Marsh I can live without, but big Ron was class. A shame really. He's let the players down, he let his employers down, he let the fans down. But most importantly, he let himself down, the big sheepskin-wearing, sunbed-pilfering, cliché-throwing lummox.

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