Why TV?

Back in December I made reference within the safety of this blogsphere to what are regarded as the 'Crown Jewells' of televised sport within this country. For those of you who missed that piece, and I realise I am speaking to a select few, the crown jewells in this sense refer to a number of sporting events which the government has deemed of national interest, and therefore they must be broadcast on free-to-access television. An idea which is welcome amongst traditionalists like myself, but an idea which has its downsides; namely that it increases the chances of some of those sporting events surfacing in ITV's locker.

Given Final Third's lowly financial status I am loathe to pre-empt a law suit, but I am confident that just cause can be found in my statement when I say ITV cannot do football coverage. Although of course we've known this for years, but such is the hyped-up money-soaked world of the Champions League, they've just about managed to get away with it. Coverage which would normally appear gaudy and distorted by advertisements has instead just blended seemlessly into its subject.

However, this year ITV has returned to the FA Cup, a competition so long a mainstay of the BBC and as historic and as institutionalised as the latter channel itself. As such ITV's FA Cup coverage has stood out like the overendulged Christmas lights on a nouveau-riche family's mansion and left a taste like a vintage brandy topped up with Happy Shopper lemonade. You know that at its core there is something good, something palatable, but there is sadly no avoiding the fact that its been conveniently coated and packaged and in doing so the true value has been lost.

At the forefront of ITV's advertising campaign for their FA Cup coverage is the belief that 'all men are equal', a belief subsequently projected as the image of a footballer being tackled by a milkman. With this as their base ITV's coverage has subsequently set off in search of an upset, however their search has been limited and has only extended to matches they are actually at. On Wednesday, in the lead up to Southend's replay with Chelsea could effectively have been summarised thus; "COME ON YOOUUUU SHRIMPERS!!!" as the show's producer sat in a truck outside Roots Hall presumably rubbing his hands like an infant on Christmas Eve.

However, just a week and a half ago the FA Cup had kindly thrown ITV to great football shaped bones with a couple of significant cup upsets. At Victoria Park Hartlepool defeated Premier League Stoke City to reach the fourth round for only the sixth time in their history, and were rewarded with about one minute's coverage on ITV's highlights show. On the same day Torquay United overcame a difference of sixty league places to win the Battle of the Seasides and defeat Blackpool 1-0 at Plainmoor; their reward for being one of very few non-league clubs to reach the fourth round? Brief footage of the goal followed by speculative comment from Robbie Earle.

The frost enduced selection of delayed FA Cup third round ties and forced replays gave ITV a second chance at producing a decent third round highlights show, but again the network's failure to cast its net wider cost them. With twelve midweek Cup ties to cover ITV plumped understandably for the Southend versus Chelsea match as their main live game. As for the focus of their highlights programme screened forty-five minutes later? Er, Southend United versus Chelsea.

I realise that in the modern world the broadcaster which gets the rights to an event is effectively the one which pays the most money, but is it too much to ask for some sort of quality control measure to work in tandem? Sadly, it probably is and so ITV's finest moment from their FA Cup coverage thus far in 2009 came completely by accident. Half-time in the Gillingham versus Aston Villa match and Andy Townsend is asked for his views, although his response is timed inadvertantly but perfectly with the next song to come over the Priestfield PA system. And so Townsend's nonsensical cliched response is performed to a backing track of Ghost Town by The Specials; it could have been a glorious Streets-esque postmodern spoken word lament about modern football. Sadly the truth was he was just hindering the playing of a very good record.