Skip to main content

2nd Class Host for Christmas?


We now know a bit more about the BBC's F1 coverage for next year - it's probably best if you don't get TOO excited.

Whilst Sky are busy launching their new dedicated F1 channel and getting their bank account reinforced, we already know that the excellent Brundle and equally good Kravitz are heading their direction. Along with just about everyone from 5Live, plus 3 microphones, a desk, 9 cameras and a slightly dented filing cabinet. And a lot of viewers.

And what are us hopeless poor people (or conscientious Murdoch objectors) getting in return? Ben Edwards!

Who?

Ben Edwards! He did some Touring Car commentary apparently. Ooo... tumbleweed!

In response to my terrified question on twitter "Please tell me he's not another Legard/Allen?!", I was advised that he's nearly as interesting and good as those two by @Pickledegg101 and @BBQMushroom. I've not met either of these fine, upstanding twitchums, but obviously I value their opinions without question and believe them completely. I am therefore not filled with joyous anticipation.

Mr Edwards will be doing his best to commentate with Coulthard, whilst the Scottish Ex-F1 driver repeatedly says KERS in a way that sounds like 'cares', and sides with the front-runners and teams as usual. Still, we won't be seeing very much of the minnows in our 10 cut-down-coverage races anyway, will we?

No particular criticism of Sky, Brundle or Kravitz though. Sky are wisely putting together a team of excellent people. Shame the BBC can't offer them the right package financially, or in terms of coverage, needed to retain them.

Next year, although the BBC will have a full crew at all races, they will also be fighting with Sky to get interviews and time with the teams, which I'm guessing will mean less for the BBC.

Happy Christmas.

(Some ancient Blues dude called Bill Bill Broonzy is currently entertaining me with his "Whiskey And Good Time Blues".)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

"It's all gone quiet..." said Roobarb

If, like me, you grew up (and I’m aware of the irony in that) in the ‘70s, February was a tough month, with the sad news that Richard Briers and Bob Godfrey had died. Briers had a distinguished acting career and is, quite rightly, fondly remembered most for his character in ‘The Good Life’. Amongst his many roles, both serious and comedic, he also lent his voice to a startling bit of animation that burst it’s wobbly way on to our wooden-box-surrounded screens in 1974. The 1970s seemed to be largely hued in varying shades of beige, with hints of mustard yellow and burnt orange, and colour TV was a relatively new experience still, so the animated adventures of a daft dog and caustic cat who were the shades of dayglo green and pink normally reserved for highlighter pens, must have been a bit of a shock to the eyes at the time. It caused mine to open very wide indeed. Roobarb was written by Grange Calveley, and brought vividly into life by Godfrey, whose strange, shaky-looking sty...

Suffering from natural obsolescence

You know you’re getting old when it dawns on you that you’re outliving technological breakthroughs. You know the sort of thing – something revolutionary, that heralds a seismic shift it the way the modern world operates. Clever, time-saving, breathtaking and life-changing (and featuring a circuit board). It’s the future, baby! Until it isn’t any more. I got to pondering this when we laughed heartily in the office about someone asking if our camcorder used “tape”. Tape? Get with the times, Daddy-o! If it ain’t digital then for-get-it! I then attempted to explain to an impossibly young colleague that video tape in a camcorder was indeed once a “thing”, requiring the carrying of something the size of a briefcase around on your shoulder, containing batteries normally reserved for a bus, and a start-up time from pressing ‘Record’ so lengthy, couples were already getting divorced by the time it was ready to record them saying “I do”. After explaining what tape was, I realised I’d ...