Mark Planamente
NormThe greatest writer that ever lived: Peter Roebuck
December 22nd 2008 00:37
Rarely these days do I immerse myself in the monotony of sports journalism, as I have grown more cynical than the lovechild of Voltaire and Paul Lyneham. While the proclamation that Peter Roebuck is the best cricket writer in the world sits as uneasily with me as a paedophile at a bus shelter, unfortunately I, as a Fairfax subscriber, duly digest his daily column like a homeless man may enjoy a complimentary buffet breakfast. Heartily, and with intent. Unlike a famished street urchin, however, I often fail to finish the "meal", instead finding myself incapable of digesting such rubbish.
It is impossible to read Roebuck's columns and not mentally recite the words to yourself in a flinty, chirpy and relentlessly upbeat toffy English accent. The words jump out at you like a man in a trenchcoat - aggressively, with an intention to flash themselves at you in a twisted form of self-gratification.
I am all for self-obsessed writing, don't get me wrong. But why is Roebuck proclaimed as the World's Best Cricket Writer, when his lack of actual analysis is masked by an overbearing smattering of polysyllabic words and reckless alliterations?
Roebuck was educated at Cambridge, a fact he flaunts very freely. With Roebuck as "our" premier cricket writer and Mark Nicholas as our TV cricket anchor, are we experiencing a return to the Empire? Why must we have Englishmen dictating our national sport to us?
Let me emphasise that I'm no colonial upstart. I have an unblushing affection for British television and cinema, not to mention an appreciation for well executed pronounciation. However, I think Australia could be better served in both departments.
Mark Nicholas may be more debonair than Hugh Grant, possessing all the charm of a Parkinson interview, but I question his cricketing pedigree. Like Roebuck, Nicholas was a county cricketer who never quite made it, instead gravitating to the safer fields of sports commentary. A wise man once said "never judge a book by its cover; judge a book by its wikipedia page." Nicholas is praised as "one of his generation's best cricketers to never play a test for England", along with an overly detailed summary of his broadcasting career, dutifully scribed by some loser who also describes him of "suave appearance and an urbane manner". In contrast, Roebuck's page offers a cavalcade of incidents, describing his suspended jail sentence for spanking three young cricketers and his questionable decision - as captain of county side Somerset - to get rid of West Indian imports Viv Richards and Joel Garner.
Mark Nicholas I can handle, but I haven't felt this much outrage over a daily column since Barry Hall guided me through his mental anguish earlier this year. Therefore, Peter Roebuck should be asked politely to pack up his straw hat, Roget's Thesaurus and wooden cane. Because biased citizen blogs are the new print journalism. Because there are plenty of cavalier writers hiding behind psuedonyms, using third person rhetoric amidst fits of pompousity, ready to pen uninsightful and often slanderous prose. Because such writers are key to understanding cricket and sport in this modern era.
-SportingMind
It is impossible to read Roebuck's columns and not mentally recite the words to yourself in a flinty, chirpy and relentlessly upbeat toffy English accent. The words jump out at you like a man in a trenchcoat - aggressively, with an intention to flash themselves at you in a twisted form of self-gratification.
"Richard Hadlee has the appearance of a rickety church steeple and a sever manner which suggests women are not likely to be ordained yet"
I am all for self-obsessed writing, don't get me wrong. But why is Roebuck proclaimed as the World's Best Cricket Writer, when his lack of actual analysis is masked by an overbearing smattering of polysyllabic words and reckless alliterations?
Roebuck was educated at Cambridge, a fact he flaunts very freely. With Roebuck as "our" premier cricket writer and Mark Nicholas as our TV cricket anchor, are we experiencing a return to the Empire? Why must we have Englishmen dictating our national sport to us?
Delightfully debonair: Mark Nicholas
Let me emphasise that I'm no colonial upstart. I have an unblushing affection for British television and cinema, not to mention an appreciation for well executed pronounciation. However, I think Australia could be better served in both departments.
Mark Nicholas may be more debonair than Hugh Grant, possessing all the charm of a Parkinson interview, but I question his cricketing pedigree. Like Roebuck, Nicholas was a county cricketer who never quite made it, instead gravitating to the safer fields of sports commentary. A wise man once said "never judge a book by its cover; judge a book by its wikipedia page." Nicholas is praised as "one of his generation's best cricketers to never play a test for England", along with an overly detailed summary of his broadcasting career, dutifully scribed by some loser who also describes him of "suave appearance and an urbane manner". In contrast, Roebuck's page offers a cavalcade of incidents, describing his suspended jail sentence for spanking three young cricketers and his questionable decision - as captain of county side Somerset - to get rid of West Indian imports Viv Richards and Joel Garner.
Mark Nicholas I can handle, but I haven't felt this much outrage over a daily column since Barry Hall guided me through his mental anguish earlier this year. Therefore, Peter Roebuck should be asked politely to pack up his straw hat, Roget's Thesaurus and wooden cane. Because biased citizen blogs are the new print journalism. Because there are plenty of cavalier writers hiding behind psuedonyms, using third person rhetoric amidst fits of pompousity, ready to pen uninsightful and often slanderous prose. Because such writers are key to understanding cricket and sport in this modern era.
-SportingMind
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Comment by Norm
Consumption Malfunction
Equal and Opposite
Arses and Elbows
Footy Power
The way Jim could effortlessly, with the assistance of the late great vociferous apple-peeler Geoff "Fred Hollows" Lawson, get under Roebuck's thinly veiled skin will always stay with me until the day I'm reborn a good Christian or nationalist poet.
If only Roebuck and Nicholas could let their bats do the talking now.
Comment by David Edwards
I think the solution is to replace both commentators with actual cricket bats. I propose replacing Roebuck with a Slazenger V100 Kashmir willow bat, and Nicholas with a solid piece of English Williow - possibly a Bradbury. Roebuck's penchant for intertwining sport and politics will be well represented by a Kashmir bat, while the Bradbury blade will make Tony Greig look less wooden than he already is.
Comment by Norm
Consumption Malfunction
Equal and Opposite
Arses and Elbows
Footy Power
To raise money for a bankrupt Adam Gilchrist, I can see them batting with a thesaurus and a gold pen and serving up some finely wrought praise right arm over left ear hole from the same end at the same time to the thrashing machine that is the 'batsmanship' of Gilly.
He's got every pullshot in the locker.
Comment by David Edwards
I've heard that it is fashioned into picket fences, wooden canes and religious crosses, in what is a great cost cutting initiative and example of different industries working together.
There's a scoop.
It is fact that the word scoop was derived from Sean Connery, whose speech impediment prevented him from properly asking for a can of soup. An alert journalist overheard the commotion at a Tesco's supermarket near Fleet Street, and promptly reported the scandal to the Times publication. That is an etymological fact.
Comment by Virile Men
Comment by Captain Carnage