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It has long been a common strategy for sports broadcasters to use a co-commentator who is human Marmite. Mark Lawrenson is the perfect example here, though he thankfully pollutes our airwaves less frequently these days. ‘Lawro’ and his world-wearied cynicism can reduce an otherwise rational person to shed all objectivity and become a husk of pure hate. Others though will find his downbeat mien endearing. They might even chuckle on occasion at his terrible puns.
To some his cranky uncle routine grates while others buzz off it and at the end of ninety minutes he has split the room, which is precisely what his employers are after. More so – because Marmite isn’t typically used as a metaphor for polarising opinion due to some people quite liking the taste while others can take it or leave it – there will be very few viewers who will be apathetic to his performance. This, for ITV, BT, Sky or the BBC is gold-dust because it sparks debate. It elicits discussion and better yet discussion that often takes the form of interaction on social media.
In this regard it makes sense to have a Marmite individual on co-comms duty. After all, what’s the point in having a colour commentator – as they’re called in America – if the person in question is beige?
This brings us to Steve McManaman, who is absolutely not beige but similarly absolutely does not split the room. Nobody likes his work: nobody except Liverpool supporters due to his unrestrained bias but by that metric he is probably best employed by LFCTV. McManaman unites the room in a frantic search for the remote control and the mute button.
Should you want examples to prop up this assertion there are a great many available. Indeed, simply search for his name whenever the nation is being subjected to his narcissistic, chippy monologues and you’ll find an outpouring of abject misery and exasperation. “Can we not start a country-wide campaign to get Steve McManaman taken off Champions League coverage? I’m yet to find a single person (other than those running BT Sport) who actually enjoy listening to him”.
There’s one, plucked randomly from an endless timeline of opposition. “If I was stuck on a desert island with Steve McManaman and a tin of custard, I’d eat McManaman and talk to the custard”. There’s another. “Is there a worse co-commentator in football than Steve McManaman?”. And another.
These examples of course ultimately prove very little because a quick scan of Twitter following the co-commentary of pretty much anyone who is anyone brings forth the same levels of enmity. That’s who we are these days. That’s what Twitter is. What is pertinent, however – and immensely so – is how few responses there are offering up an alternative take and by ‘few’ I mean none, none whatsoever. Nobody defends him and this in an era where to be a contrarian is to be heard. Nobody says: “Well I find him alright to be honest”. Elsewhere should you try to seek out praise for his output it’s akin to locating a fan of international breaks.
This makes BT Sport’s decision to install the former Liverpool winger as their primary co-commentator and then persist with him despite universal objection a distinctly odd policy. Some might say it is ground-breaking as it goes against every established formula for building a successful business. If we’re being less charitable it could be called insane.
Because it is not unusual for a broadcaster to put before us a retired player who is roundly disliked. That in itself can work and has done so many times in the past. But to give a microphone and regular chunks of airtime to a retired player whose output is roundly disliked: what is the point in that? Where is the sense in that? Sod charity; that borders on the definition of insanity.
“McManaman ruins every single game when he’s commentating”. Another criticism found online and a reminder that when you descend past the Marmite man to a person who is widely considered to be exceedingly bad at doing his job it goes beyond gripes and japery to something more serious. We pay a lot of money to subscribe to BT and when McManaman is ruining that experience we’re being short-changed.
And you know exactly how. You can hear him now can’t you as you’re reading this. The blatant, impassioned bias that is pro Liverpool or the perceived underdog. The never-ending, meandering conversations with ‘Fletch’ that not only completely exclude the viewer but seem to forget there’s a game going on. The inevitable ‘whoops’ when a mistake is made. The growled contention that ‘there’s nothing wrong with that’ when a 50-50 ball is fiercely contested followed by a high pitched echo of those same words when he sees the slo-mo.
The constant, inane chatter that has you wishing he would just shut up, just shut up for thirty seconds and let us enjoy the football without us feeling that we’ve been unfortunate enough to be seated in the pub next to the most annoying human being on the planet. The solitary insight that is spewed out ad nauseam throughout a game. How many times do we need to be informed that McManaman thinks Kane is too isolated? Once, if that.
When all of this is pooled together it gives you a migraine. It takes you outside of the game. McManaman does the very opposite of what his role demands.
Little wonder then that he has so few defenders but let’s at least try here. Let’s strive for one positive thing to say about unquestionably one of the very worst co-commentators that has ever sullied our speakers. He is better than Michael Owen. That’s all I have.
Dear BT Sport, football implores you to sack off Steve ‘Macca’ McManaman.
Many thanks, everybody watching.