XCITY / Features
Rebooting sports reporting Matt Reed speaks to some of the biggest names in the game about how an industry built on cliches continues to innovate
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I donāt really watch it for that. I watch it for sonic wallpaper. For someone to say something that will cause a little green light to go off in my brain that goes, āYeah, I feel the same.āā As a pundit for BBC Sportās swimming coverage, five-time Olympian Mark Foster strives to deliver a similarly welcoming
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voice. āYou want someone watching their TV to think theyāre in the pub having a conversation with you,ā says Foster. āIt doesnāt need to be question after question; it just has to flow.ā If casual, clichĆ©d conversation is as welcome as ever, how does sports media keep innovating? The past two decades have seen granular statistics and tactical analysis take over sports journalism. āAll sorts of companies
offer us statistics now,ā says Cotter. āBut youāve got to evaluate whether it means anything.ā The popularity of The Athletic ā which reached one million paid subscribers in September 2020 after its launch in 2016 ā was built on a progression towards in-depth analysis, using statistics and jargon for a sport-obsessed audience. āTactics writers and these advanced data analysts are the next generation of sport journalists,ā says Hurrey. āThey have a real uphill battle to get this language into the mainstream, but it is definitely happening.ā Simultaneously, at the BBC, Cotter and Foster present to those who may be watching a sport for the first time. Both agree that simplicity is key for a lay audience. āI could use swimming terminology, or a clichĆ©, but people wonāt understand,ā says Foster. āSo you always keep it simple.ā This battle between in-depth analysis and simple explanation marks the line sports media must tread to keep both new and old fans onside. For Cotter, the datafication of sport has caused commentary to suffer, and the artistry of a simple line has become lost in information. āNow, there seems to be a fear of silence,ā he says. āThere has to be an avalanche of stats. Inevitably, a lot of this is from America where they are stat mad. Figures have a very important role to play in providing context, but sometimes all the viewer wants is to sit and take in the event with a bit of a breath and enjoy the atmosphere. The silence is your friend, donāt be afraid of it.ā One of the last bastions of free-toair sports coverage in the UK is through the Olympics, where a minimum of 200 hours is dedicated to public broadcasting. For the BBC team reporting on this summerās games, the looming threat of COVID-19 means broadcasting from Manchester instead of Tokyo. Amid a fresh outbreak of coronavirus cases in Japan, it is uncertain whether events will play out in front of a domestic crowd, assuring this Olympics will be like no other. Nonetheless, the tenets of sports journalism will remain the same, with the odd clichĆ© destined to be spoken. āItās about being authentic,ā Foster summarises. āPeople see through it nowadays anyway, so speak your truth, whatever that might be.ā š
Image: James Edgar / Adam Hurrey
o catch a glimpse of the first modern-day Olympics in 1896, the public had to wait months for silent newsreels shown in cinemas. Since then, sports media has scaled exponentially, with todayās coverage broadcast live and on-demand in more than 200 countries. For all the decades in-between, one ideal has rung true: āItās not the winning but the taking part that counts.ā This yearās re-scheduled Tokyo 2020 games mark the 125th anniversary of that original Olympics, when its founding father Pierre de Coubertin uttered that now hackneyed phrase. The mass expansion of never-ending sports coverage has ushered in a unique sphere of journalism, teeming with clichĆ©s and idioms. Athletes perpetually stand on the start line, ready to give ā110 per centā, or āblood, sweat and tearsā, to win āat all costsā. How do sports journalists and outlets keep the reportage of invariably similar events fresh? Tasked with providing metronomic rhythm to the millions watching at home, Andrew Cotter has been commentating on sport for almost 25 years. Having started at regional radio station Scot FM in 1997, he is now one of the BBCās most recognisable voices for rugby, golf, and Olympic coverage. For Cotter, clichĆ©s have held a continual presence in sports media because of their enduring relevance. āAll sports go through the same passages of play, the same rhythms, every time,ā he says. āIn golf, a six-footer is not a new thing, so itās finding different ways of describing the disappointment or the joy ā but sometimes using clichĆ©s is unavoidable. If it sounds natural and seems like the right thing to say at that time, it doesnāt matter if somebody has said it 1,000 times before.ā He adds: āItās vowels, like the āiā in fire: āheās on fireā. The sound and rhythm of words are everything to me.ā It is because clichĆ©s are so relatable that audiences refuse to grow tired of them, despite the originality media companies may desire, according to Adam Hurrey, writer and editor at The Athletic. āEveryoneās obsessed with insight,ā says Hurrey, author of book-turned-podcast Football ClichĆ©s. āPunditry is āunder pressureā to produce original insight, but