Matt Maher: Athletes willing to talk a good game – win or lose
No more than five minutes after losing for the first time in more than four years, Adam Peaty was confronted by a sea of tape recorders.
In a small room at the back of the Sandwell Aquatics Centre, the Staffordshire swimmer tried to find the words to explain his defeat in the 100 metre breaststroke final, a result which ranked among the biggest shocks in the history of his sport and perhaps ever witnessed in the Commonwealth Games.
These were unchartered, uncomfortable waters but as the questions kept coming, Peaty kept answering in the best way he could. Barely 12 hours later, after swimming in the heats of the 50m breaststroke, he was fronting up again, just as he would be the following day following his dramatic victory in the final of that competition to complete Birmingham 2022’s unlikeliest redemption story.
For those of us more accustomed to covering football, Peaty’s candour in the wake of both failure and success was almost jolting as it was refreshing.
In the controlled, corporate world of the Premier League, the odds of even getting a player to talk after a defeat are always long, the great irony being in a division where more than two-thirds of teams last season lost more than a third of their matches, they are far more qualified to talk about the subject than a swimmer beaten twice since 2014.
So what, you might say? Please don’t tell us someone paid to write about sport for a living is about to waste 800 words complaining about the conditions?
Well, no. The point being made is less about access, than atmosphere. The willingness of Peaty and countless others to talk, whether their dreams had been realised or crushed, was just one aspect of a sporting event where everything felt that bit more grown-up.
That is not to say athletes did not care as much. Quite the contrary, on several occasions, careers could be described as being on the line.
Yet no matter how high the stakes, you never felt anyone involved had lost their sense of proportion. These were extraordinary athletes, yet ordinary humans. No-one seemed to have forgotten the fact whatever the outcome, this was sport. At its base level, it’s supposed to be fun. Those attitudes were shared by crowds who backed home nation’s athletes vociferously but were generous in support of the rest and always respectful.
Such was the warmth, it was impossible not to make comparisons with the increasingly cold and calculating world of the Premier League, a competition which, year-on-year, seems to take itself ever more seriously, while at the same time losing a little more contact with any sense of reality.
Money is a huge factor, of course. In a financial sense, the Premier League is one of sport’s great success stories, generating riches beyond the comprehension of any fan or observer. It’s a corporate behemoth, where the primary focus has for a long time been the bottom line.
Recently it has gotten to the stage where you wonder whether we have all been culpable – not least those of us in the media – of letting the whole show get a little too big for its own boots?
After all, we’re the ones who have allowed it to dominate newspapers and websites, 365 days a year, feeding the narrative it is the greatest league in the world, when the reality is that of the 380 matches played each season, at least 90 per cent are quickly forgettable.
That might seem an odd, even dangerous comment for someone who spends the vast majority of their job writing about football and footballers to make.
Yet while there will always be storylines and subjects to write about, the desire and need for some news outlets to find or create controversy or drama where none exists has become tiresome.
One national radio station yesterday had a debate, ahead of tomorrow’s match between Villa and Everton, over whether Steven Gerrard or Frank Lampard was under more pressure?
We aren’t even one week into the season.
It wouldn’t be so bad, if it didn’t frequently get so nasty.
“People seem less tolerant of a draw and defeat these days, in my opinion, than a few years ago,” the Rotherham manager, Paul Warne, said this week.
Warne was talking about what he sees as an increased “toxicity” in the sport, pointing out how often he learns of his players being abused on social media after poor results, sometimes racially.
Even putting to the side one moment those extreme and shocking examples, it has been impossible not to notice levels of frustration creeping up steadily in recent years. The boos tend to descend from the terraces a little quicker than they used to.
Perhaps, as some claim, football has become a lightning rod for the ills of society? Or just possibly, for some, it stems from the fact clubs they have held dear for so long have never felt more distant?
This isn’t the same without you, fans were told when the pandemic forced football behind closed doors. It didn’t take long for many clubs to put the price of season tickets up, once they had returned. Throw in the fact most of the division are, at best, in a battle to finish to seventh and it wouldn’t be a surprise if growing numbers might be feeling a little disenfranchised or disillusioned.
Whatever the case, it would probably serve us all well to take a step back every now and again and remember that, no matter the efficiency of the hype machine, it is only a game.