covellistake

There was a time when consuming football was very different. And by different, I mean a bit more gentlemanly. I remember sitting with my grandad watching football when I was younger. The legend known as Mr Des Lynam sitting behind the desk on Grandstand, looking like he’d just wandered in from a very important meeting at the Bank.

Calm.

Composed.

Perfectly spoken.

And then there was Elton Welsby, one of the kings of football on the radio and Granada, bringing us The Match and the regional football coverage. It was football television, not the football theatre of today. There was analysis, highlights and interviews. There were people who appeared to understand that you could talk about football without behaving like someone had just stood on your nuts.

And I loved it. Probably more to do with spending time with my grandad than anything else. Good memories. Anyway…

Football broadcasting has changed, and I mean a lot. Because now we’ve got talkSPORT, YouTube, podcasts, The Overlap, watch-a-longs, fan channels, phone-ins and enough football content being pumped into our ears and eyes every single day to keep you occupied until the next Ice Age.

And a lot of it isn’t really about presenting football anymore. It’s about entertaining people who happen to like football. And you know what?

I think that’s brilliant.

Because somewhere along the line, football punditry discovered something very important. Banter gets clicks; Banter gets views. Starts Arguments and gives the world complete meltdowns that go viral. And if you can get 500,000 people to watch two grown men argue about whether a left back should be left footed or not, you’ve probably done your job.

Which brings me nicely to the plonker know as, Gabby Agbonlahor.

Oh, how I used to dislike Gabby. I mean really dislike him. Every time he pops up on talkSPORT, I sit there thinking:

“Here we f**king go.” He thinks he’s a Villa legend, he’s obviously not but he can think it. He played a long time at Villa, scored plenty of goals and knows what it’s like to play professional football while simultaneously having no knowledge of the subject at all, how do you even do that!?

When he first started appearing as a pundit, I couldn’t understand how the bloody hell he had landed a regular spot on Talksport, I mean, my sister who hates anything to do with football almost certainly knows more about it than Gabby.

His meltdowns. The childlike outrage, the absolute certainty he’s right (Actually, we all have this problem) The hatred of my beloved Spurs and I have to face it, this is probably the crux of my issue with him. Sometimes I’d sit there thinking:

Does this guy actually have any understanding of football? Then I realised something. That’s not really the point. Gabby isn’t there to sit down with a spreadsheet and give me a twelve-point tactical analysis of a midfield structure.

He’s there to get a reaction.

And bloody hell, does he get one. I don’t know whether he sits down before the show and thinks, “Right, what can I say today that will piss everyone off?”

But I wouldn’t be remotely surprised.

And the thing is, if he were calm, measured and reasonable, he’d probably have no job at all as he doesn’t have any of the knowledge needed.

Imagine Gabby coming on and saying:

“Well, I think both teams had some positive attributes today. The manager made some reasonable substitutions and overall, I believe the result was fair.”

I’d switch off. Immediately.

Gabby’s value isn’t that he’s going to give you the most sophisticated football analysis you’ve ever heard, he doesn’t have the capability. (Don’t worry Gab, I don’t have any capability for everyday task to be fair) His value is that he makes you want to throw something at the radio.

And if you’re talking about football broadcasting in the modern world, that is actually quite a skill. Take some of the arguments around Villa. Gabby can often make it sound as though he has no grasp of basic economics let alone complex football finance.

“It’s NOT FAIR! My owners should be able to spend what they want, we’ve got the money!”

“Well, if they invest more in the club, diversify a little, then club itself can spend more.”

“I don’t care about that, it’s Just NOT FAIR!”

And I’m sat there thinking:

Well, ok Gabby. That’s certainly one way of looking at it. But then I have to stop myself. Because I’m doing exactly what Gabby is employed to make me do, argue with the radio.

He’s got me.

The bastard.

And that’s when I started to understand it. He’s not trying to win an academic debate about football economics. He’s creating a reaction. He’s creating a conversation. And, most importantly, he’s creating content and that’s how the modern football media machine works. And nowhere is that more obvious than The Sports Bar.

Now we’re talking. The best example of how banter and knowledge can work perfectly hand in hand. You’ve got Jason Cundy and Jamie O’Hara. Two former players with two completely different loyalties. Here’s two chaps who appear to have discovered that winding each other up is significantly more entertaining than behaving like sensible adults. Cundy’s infamous Ange Postecoglou mask has become part of the act, particularly when Spurs are having a bad time. And unfortunately for me, as a Spurs fan, that seems to happen with alarming regularity.

The mask, the clown outfit, the digs at Tottenham that make O’Hara instantly lose his shit and walk off. Cundy then laughing his arse off when O’Hara comes back in. And then they do it all over again. It sounds ridiculous when you write it down. Because it’s ridiculous. But it’s absolutely brilliant.

There have been multiple occasions where O’Hara has stormed off the set after Cundy wound him up about Spurs, including one YouTube short that talkSPORT reported generated more than ten million views. Why? Because we love the mix of banter and obvious football knowledge.

You could probably show me a link to gabby talking and I wouldn’t click on it but, tell me Jamie O’Hara has just stormed out of the studio because Jason Cundy is wearing an Ange mask?

I’m there.

Immediately.

And here’s the difference between Cundy and O’Hara and someone who is simply shouting bollocks for attention. They actually know football and that’s important. They’ve both played the game at a professional level, and they’ve got genuine experience to fall back on So, underneath the banter, the wind-ups and the occasional theatrical meltdown, there’s actual football knowledge. That’s why The Sports Bar works. It’s not just two fans shouting.

It’s two mates who actually know what they’re talking about deliberately winding each other up because they know people will watch or listen.

And that’s clever.

And the funny thing is, I’ve started to appreciate and reluctantly, respect Gabby for the role that he’s employed to do. I should hate him. As a Spurs fan, I probably have a contractual obligation to hate him.

But I don’t.

Don’t get me wrong, he still does my f**king head in. Every time he opens his mouth, there’s a little part of my brain screaming:

“For God’s sake, Gabby, just shut up!”

But now that I understand his role it actually makes him more bearable. Because once you realise it’s entertainment, you stop taking every sentence quite so seriously. And that’s something I think myself and a lot of football fans have forgotten.

Sometimes a pundit is there to make you laugh. Sometimes they’re there to wind you up and occasionally they’re there to say something so outrageous that half the country starts arguing about it on X for the next six hours.

And that’s fine. In fact, I think we need it. Because the alternative is football television becoming completely bland. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s bland football television.

But if Gabby or even O’Hara and Cundy are too much for you, then there’s the Overlap. This is where I think you’ll find the middle ground.

Gary Neville, Roy Keane, Jill Scott. Jamie Carragher and the awesome Micah Richards. There’s also a great list of other guests who actually know the game inside out.

The difference is that The Overlap doesn’t need somebody like gabby who doesn’t really know what he’s talking about to get attention. They’ve got the knowledge, experience, character and still enough banter to stop it feeling flat.

Roy Keane can sit there looking like he’s just been told someone has parked on his lawn while Micah Richards is laughing from start to finish. Jill Scott brings a completely different perspective to things and Neville can go into forensic detail about something that happened in the 17th minute.

And again, but in a different way, it all works.

The format has produced some genuinely popular football content, including panels featuring Neville, Keane, Richards and Scott discussing major games and football issues.

That’s the sweet spot for me. Knowledge without making it feel like a lecture, opinion without pretending there’s only one answer all with a sprinkling of friendly ribbing.

And that’s what modern football broadcasting has become. It’s not just about telling us what happened anymore, we can find that out in approximately fourteen seconds. It’s about how they make us feel about what happened, they make us laugh, get a little bit angry. And then makes us text our mate:

“Have you heard what this idiot has just said?” And then send him the clip. That’s the business model and I’m acutely aware that, I’m part of it.

I’ve watched the clips.

I’ve sent them to people.

I’ve shouted at the TV or radio.

I’ve laughed at Cundy winding up O’Hara.

And I’ve definitely rolled my eyes at Gabby.

I’ve probably spent far too much time listening to people argue about something that ultimately doesn’t matter because it’s football and none of us can actually change the result.

And I love it.

Because football has always been about emotion, that’s why we celebrate goals like we’ve personally scored them. That’s why we hate our rivals despite never having met most of them. And that’s why someone like Gabby Agbonlahor can sit in a studio and say something completely ridiculous and suddenly I’ve forgotten whatever else I was doing.

He’s got under my skin.

Job done.

Cundy puts on the Ange mask and O’Hara walks off.

Job done.

And somewhere in a production office, someone is probably looking at the engagement figures and thinking: “F**k me, it’s worked again.” And do you know what? Good. Because I’d rather watch that than another perfectly polished football programme where everyone sits around nodding politely and agreeing with each other. If I wanted bland, politically correct football entertainment, I’d watch or listen to the BBC.

I’d probably fall asleep halfway through the opening credits like but…

Football isn’t supposed to be polite, it’s tribal, it’s emotional and at times, it’s completely ridiculous and that’s what makes it so enjoyable. So yes, Gabby, keep having your uneducated meltdowns. Cundy, keep wearing the bloody mask and O’Hara, keep walking off set. Because underneath all the clicks, views, algorithms and traffic, there’s something quite simple going on.

We’re football fans.

We like talking about football.

We like arguing about football.

And, most importantly, we like watching other people argue about football while convincing ourselves that we’re the ones who actually know what we’re talking about. Which, let’s be honest, is probably the biggest load of bollocks in the entire football industry. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I do still cringe every single time Gabby opens his mouth.

Or it could just be me.