“And a word, Tyson about the crowd?” The obligatory ‘crowd question’ dominates just about all of the BBC’s Phil Jones’ interviews, as if the crowd is that much different from any other the world class athletes have competed in front of on the European circuit (or indeed the Olympic Games or World Championships). Jones is never content with just a cursory “it’s always nice when the spectators are so enthusiastic”. Such a flippant response will be met with a follow up: “but what about this crowd?” Yesterday, Blanka Vlasic was deemed to have sounded less than absolutely ecstatic about the crowd support and so Jones tried a different angle: "in this weather too". Seemingly, there is no escaping the man with the BBC microphone as some bright spark at the Beeb came up with the idea that he could be a ‘roaming’ reporter from now on. Gone are the days when disappointed failures can hurry through the mixed zone avoiding eye contact. Now you get the feeling that Jones will chase any potential interviewee all the way back to his/her hotel in order to understand how the crowd may or may not have influenced their performance.
No such problems for John Inverdale who is fast becoming the Godfather of BBC sports coverage. Only the very select few (BBC darling Jess Ennis) got the nod to be interviewed by the great man. Inverdale's interviews are astoundingly effective as there is a feeling of the headmaster's study about his booth: the athlete is almost certainly more in awe of Inverdale than the other way around. If athletes are battling to escape the Jones treatment, any sports fan really can’t get away from Inverdale. Whatever the sport, Inverdale is there: swimming, horse jumping, tennis, golf, rugby, athletics: you name it- he's covering it. Indeed back in June, on what should have been his day off from Wimbledon coverage, the maestro was hurriedly dispatched to Birmingham Alexander stadium to cover for the bungling Jonathan Edwards. One can’t help thinking that the veteran broadcaster does as he wishes as producers are fearful of what could be an almighty kick off. Surely it is no co-incidence that Sue Barker is looking increasingly uncomfortable on A Question of Sport and Gary Lineker looks like a dead man walking on Match of the Day. The Inverdale juggernaut is seemingly unstoppable; just ask Hazel Irvine who has been sent to the wilderness of women's golf, probably after knocking the Godfather's water over or something.
Inverdale’s showing at Crystal Palace after what was an obviously draining European campaign was made to look all the more impressive by the limp displays of Colin Jackson and Denise Lewis. For too long now, these two have failed to deliver and Inverdale was only too ready to pounce on such weakness. And so when it came to analysing Mo Farah’s 3000m, the distance runners in the commentary box were deemed surplus to requirements by the rampant Inverdale who decided to quiz Lewis (a heptathlete) and Jackson (a hurdler) about it instead. In a ‘rabbit caught in headlights’ moment, Lewis concluded that Farah had “given it his all”, which was met with an “absolutely” from Jackson. Inverdale could barely hide the smile from his face.
Happily, Denise Lewis seems totally incapable of saying anything nasty (or indeed of any value). This is perfect for a meeting in which the British athletes undoubtedly crashed back down to earth from the dizzy heights of European glory. “It’s really hard to get yourself motivated for meetings like this after the major Championships” preached Lewis. Is it? The obvious first question is whether an event in which 10.18 seconds is good enough for a silver medal in the 100m can really be classed as “major”; and then there is the question of whether it should matter. We do not hear of many surgeons who, after a patient dies, sigh and say that they were struggling to get over performing well at a “major” operation last week. Sensationally, the only individual who appears to have conceded as much was the much loved Mark ‘most definitely’ Lewis-Francis. “This is what I do for a living,” said the European silver medallist whilst making some strange movements with his hands, “there’s no excuse”. Unfortunately, Lewis-Francis had already humiliated himself by choosing to point enthusiastically at his baton having won the 4x100m relay whilst mouthing to the camera, “I’m number one!” That’s debatable, but what cannot be debated is that the baton was clearly embossed with the number 3. Such stupid behaviour could well be met with an Inverdale summons early next week.