The joy of (tele)text
Teletext: Timeless
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Tuesday, 01, May 2007 08:34
When jug-eared Gary Lineker was first cutting his teeth in the broadcasting world, he famously fell out with football hardman Vinnie Jones. A fresh-faced Lineker had said that watching Jones' Wimbledon side was best done on teletext. The bluntly-pixelated rough edges of the dated medium were clearly one and the same as a John Fashanu forearm smash.
Now, in an age of interactive red buttons and Sky Sports' Super Smashing Scintillating Sensational Saturdays and Sundays, surely teletext is as anachronistic and out of touch as a John Motson-led commentary team? The sluggish page changes would surely make Jeff Stelling spit at the screen in disgust. Well last weekend I put it to the test.
Aided by some Radio Five Live commentary, lunchtime kick-offs for the Premiership's juggernauts Manchester United and Chelsea presented me with the perfect opportunity to monitor their progress. Taking up my perch on the living room sofa, I was as finely poised as the title race itself.
An early Alan Stubbs strike certainly raised an eyebrow, not to mention that flurry of goals at Stamford Bridge which followed. Still in my dressing gown, it looked as though the league title would be wrapped up in blue ribbon by half-time.
A quick spot of lunch and it was back to the sofa to resume the trial by teletext. The remote control buttons took a bit of a pounding as the excitement started to get the better of me. Everton's spectacular second was surely going to seal three points for Moyes' men and even a Bolton equaliser wasn't going to be the end of the world for Chelsea.
But, in the blink of an eye, United banged four past the hapless Iain Turner, leaving Stamford Bridge as quiet as a morgue (no change there then) and me just inches from the TV screen, staring in utter disbelief at the text before me. United's title now, no question.
With the 15:00 kick-offs getting underway and plenty to play for, the radio's 'round-the-grounds' helped fill in the gaps on the swathing canvas of promotion and relegation glory and despair up and down the country. Dimitar Berbatov volleying Spurs into Uefa Cup contention, West Ham bringing woe to Wigan, Charlton imploding at Ewood Park.
Further down the football echelons, ten-man Birmingham put themselves on the brink of a Premiership return, loutish Leeds fans lost their patience (and the plot) after a late Ipswich equaliser condemned their side to near-certain relegation and, north of the border, glorious Gretna secured a hat-trick of promotions with a last-minute winner to join the SPL next season. Just five years ago they were a non-league outfit.
With 17:00 fast approaching, I give a tired teletext page its first rest of the day, flicking over to see BBC Score's revamped vidiprinter flash up the final twists and turns of a dramatic day of action. Middlesbrough failed to claw their way back against spineless Spurs, Hull hold on to all but secure their Championship status and Bristol City blow their penultimate chance of automatic promotion.
So an afternoon with teletext and radio. I haven't spent a penny but I feel I've been in for a pound. I was even spared the sight of Richard Keys' hairy hands. Yet an afternoon of tension and trauma has flown by with near perfection. Ahhh, the joy of teletext!
James Amar