They Love to Spice Up Stories
As the United States prepares for the 2002 World Cup, its fourth appearance in a row after an absence of 40 years, it is clear our soccer media still are woefully behind the times, hopelessly unsophisticated.
Here, the media concerns are mundane: Who will Coach Bruce Arena start at goalkeeper? Is there a competent left back in the house? Will we win a game this time?
As opposed to the World Cup buildup in England, Home of Football, where newspapers, television and radio are focused precisely where they should be, covering the stories and issues that absolutely need to be covered.
They would be, in no particular order of significance:
Did England captain David Beckham conceive his soon-to-be second-born child during a goal celebration, or something like it, with wife Posh Spice on the field inside Manchester United’s home stadium, Old Trafford?
(Posh strongly denies this rumor, as well as the one that had the Beckhams naming the child young Trafford.)
How much of the country will use the front page of the Sun as a prayer mat and enlist the help of the Great Physio In The Sky to heal Beckham’s broken foot in time for England’s June 2 World Cup opener?
(According to reliable media reports, Beckham did not break his foot while conceiving his soon-to-be second-born child at Old Trafford.)
When will England Manager Sven Goran Eriksson, in obvious need of stress release while his best player sits idly on the disabled list, make his final and most crucial selection: longtime girlfriend Nancy Dell’Olio, the proven Italian veteran, or BBC-TV presenter Ulrika Jonsson, the dangerous newcomer from Sweden?
And what do Tony Blair and the queen have to say about the squad’s preparations for the big tournament?
Last week, the London tabloid the Sun printed a near life-size photo of Beckham’s left foot on its cover and asked readers to “rub the photo at high noon on Sunday and pray” that the injury would heal before the World Cup.
That’s an essential difference between the media here and in England. Shaquille O’Neal has a nagging foot injury that is no less important to the Lakers than Beckham’s broken foot is to England. But have you seen a life-size photo of Shaq’s foot plastered across the front page of this section? Of course you haven’t. Shaq’s foot is way too big.
Last week at a media reception at Buckingham Palace, the editor of the Daily Mirror asked Queen Elizabeth II about the Beckham crisis. The queen said she realized the midfielder’s recovery was “very important for the country,” while adding she was distressed about the news that Beckham had crashed his Mercedes while attempting to drive with the broken foot.
“I don’t know enough about stress fractures to go into any detail,” the queen said, “but I do know he is not doing the right things to get it fixed.”
This was two weeks after Prime Minister Blair first addressed the Beckham crisis in a statement that read: “Nothing [is] more important to England’s arrangements for the World Cup than the state of David Beckham’s foot.”
Beckham was not hurt in the crash, which was promptly and thoroughly investigated by the papers. It was quickly divulged that the Mercedes was indeed an automatic, meaning Beckham hadn’t been using his left foot, meaning Beckham hadn’t been foolishly toying with England’s chances of qualifying for the second round.
Still, the queen offered Beckham advice, and some help, suggesting that her granddaughter Zara, a physical therapist, might be able to help speed the player’s rehab.
“I very much hope he is fit enough for the World Cup,” she said.
The Beckham affair would have ground the entire country to a paralytic halt, were it not for the Eriksson affair.
“SVENSATIONAL” cried the Mirror as it weighed in with the latest about Eriksson, the first non-Englishman to coach England’s national soccer team. That in itself was considered sacrilege throughout the country--until Eriksson salvaged a struggling qualification campaign with five consecutive victories, including 5-1 over Germany.
Then, a different Eriksson debate began to rage: knighthood ... or sainthood?
This just in: Scratch sainthood. Or, as the News of the World delicately worded it:
“NANNY CAUGHT SVEN AT IT WITH ULRIKA.”
Well, well. And what were our papers reporting about our soccer coach at precisely the same time?
“ARENA NAMES MEOLA NO. 3 KEEPER.”
Soccer and sex are national obsessions in England, and the Eriksson-Ulrika-Nancy story, as they say in the newsroom, had it all: Eriksson, the Swedish import who saved English soccer, indulging in the fruits of victory with Jonsson, the host of a BBC game show called (no kidding) “Dog Eat Dog,” much to the dismay of Dell’Olio, who is Eriksson’s live-in girlfriend.
“They were romping naked in the middle of the day,” the News of the World announced, basing its report on an interview with the boyfriend of Jonsson’s nanny--a source close to a source who makes lunch for the kids of a source close to the source of all this tabloid hysteria, in other words. The paper quoted the nanny’s boyfriend saying Eriksson had devised a do-not-disturb “code” during visits to Jonsson’s home that involved placing his shoes outside the closed bedroom door.
This made sense, seeing as how Eriksson probably wouldn’t want anyone barging in while he was explaining to Jonsson the merits of the flat back four defense over the sweeper system. Nevertheless, the revelation that Eriksson’s shoes had “thick soles to make him look taller” was embarrassing.
With England’s World Cup future at stake, Jonsson decided to take one for the team, issuing a statement late in the week that she had ended her relationship with Eriksson. Eriksson faced the media barrage in a news conference where he dismissed rumors he would resign after the World Cup because of the controversy, and smoothly disarmed the mob by flattering them.
“I was used to [media scrutiny] in Italy,” Eriksson told his audience. “I thought I had a very good school there.”
Eriksson smiled, looked the room over and divulged what he now knows. Italy was tough, he said, but compared to the education he has received the last few weeks, “it was just kindergarten.”
