PGA Features

A word from our sponsors...

Fastidious to a point, the BBC were, in their coverage of the Masters... fastidious, that is, in telling us "This is the Masters, sponsored by Rolex, or Mercedes Benz, or Exxon Mobil, or AT&T, or IBM."

Since when did Auntie go out of its way to bestow a verbal credit to a sponsor at the Masters? I think the answer is - never. But, then again, I can't recall sponsorship being associated with this patrician production at any time in the past. So even the mighty entrepreneurs of Augusta National have bowed down to Mammon.

I can just imagine the deal being negotiated between the Beeb and Augusta. "Not only will it cost you such-and-such, but you'll give a verbal credit every 45 minutes. Make it discreet - but make it!"

And so Peter Alliss and Ken Brown tried to sound as natural and wholesome as wheat germ, regurgitating the words as if glued together, as if the tournament had been "The-Masters- sponsored-by-XXX" since 1934.

Now, if only this same fastidiousness had been applied to the coverage. So often the 'Live from Augusta' caption wasn't...well, live at all. We were waiting maybe 10 minutes between successive shots from the same player (yes, I know the pace of play was creakingly slow but not that bad), and they were being transmitted out of sequence time and again by host broadcaster CBS, so much so that Alliss spouted one of his finest putdowns.

"Our American director is giving us Eric Morecambe golf - all the right shots but not necessarily in the right order", a reference to the great skit with musician Andre Previn, when Eric made a hash of a classical piano piece.

The Grand Old Man at the Mike (yup, he's nearer 80 than 70) can still bring a smile to this viewer. After a stunning shot by Woods, Alliss mused, "That would bring light to Samson's eyes."

Other gems from Alliss included his mock indignation on hearing Wayne Grady mentioning mud on the ball. "Mud? We don't have mud here - we have soil creation." On seeing the apparently cheerful face of Brandt Snedecker, the Old Master exclaimed: He's got a smiley face, Wayne. Isn't that a two-stroke penalty?"

Then Brown opined that a ball may have been diverted on the 11th green. "It seemed to kiss a catkin on the way". Quick as a flash came the Alliss rejoinder. "Well, they can't touch you for it nowadays!"

Brown's little one-minute fillers were brilliantly done. Whether it was how to play Augusta's bunkers, reading fiendish putts, explaining the vagaries of pine 'straw' - needles to you and me - the former Ryder Cup man brought an articulacy and enthusiasm that was a treat to watch.

Nor was he short of some pithy witticisms. "Amen Corner has now been twinned with Terminal 5 - they're both difficult to get through." And on a narrow space between trees that Woods chose to thread his ball... "a gap that even Ghandi might have trouble squeezing through."

But, as they don't say, every silver lining has a cloud - and that depressing agglomerate of dampness again came in the shape of Gary Lineker. Every year the Beeb put him in the presenter's chair; every year he puts a real damper on proceedings. His monotonous delivery, not helped by his whiny Leicestershire drone, might be less unbearable if the content were crisp, interesting, and adding to the visuals.

Now, it might be heresy to suggest it - but the Beeb had an employee there who has, over the years, earned spurs as a broadcaster in several areas of sport. Hazel Irvine asked apposite questions, steered clear of the banal with every interview, and for me would be a welcome relief in what I wistfully think of as the 'Steve Rider' seat... but don't hold your breath.