This week, Johnny tries to catch a glimpse of Geoff Shreeves’ outstretched arm and wonders if he’s got a microphone on him at all times.
Fashion police
Dress sense has always put me in mind of an off-duty copper who thinks he’s blending in __with normal society, but who may as well have a blue flashing light strapped to his head. Has one of those wide, square heads that looks like it’s been chiselled out of stone and cheese. Hair merely exists, unchanging and reliably offering no concession to style. Clothes likewise. Nothing of the flibberty nor of the gibbet about him. In general, seems to have barely changed at all in 17 years in contrast to so many of the people he’s interviewed. Perhaps the interview areas of football ground have some pyramid-like, life-extending properties.
Lingo Bingo
One of those home counties voices which has absolutely no accent at all. It must be weird not having an accent. You must wonder why so many people have got them and why you haven’t. If you think about it, doing what he does is a really hard job, especially at half and full time. You’ve got to be aware of the contentious issues, and you have to deliver questions in a sharp, concise manner. It’s no place for a waffler or an um-and-ah-er. Geoff never holds back. He’s always ready to go as soon as the scowling manager or sweat-glistening player shuffles into shot. If at times he can seem overly sharp, it must be because he’s got a director yelling in his ear that he’s got 20 seconds before they cut back to the studio and some ex-player in tight trousers who will quite probably be talking nonsense. I often wonder if he resents how little time he has compared to those in the studio.
Inevitably starts a lot of sentences __with “How does it feel…?”, “What went wrong?”, “Was that…?”
Hits and misses
Having joined Sky in 1992 he’s an absolute journeyman in the football media world, employed since 1999 to stand in the drafty corridors, backstage at football grounds, in front of hastily erected shell stands covered in logos. Longevity in any job should be praised and celebrated. It suggests a man who is a steady Eddie, reliable and not prone to any boat rocking. A solid 7/10 week in, week out.
But it’s a very strange, almost unique life that he leads, meeting all the great and good of football on a regular basis, but only for a minute or two at most, often when they’re very, very fed up or over-excited. His extended right arm clutching a microphone is probably more famous than he is.
You see him sometimes, lurking on the edge of the tunnel of behind dugouts during a game, as though eavesdropping on what the managers or substitutes are saying for future use. Ever present but not really involved, just waiting for his 100-second moment of work.
He does get the chance to do sit-down interviews with people for Soccer Saturday etc, and that must seem like a luxury. But mostly, he’s just there to ask a quick question about a goal or a booking and also to break bad news to players such as in the classic Branislav Ivanovic moment.
It’s a limited repertoire that he’s required to perform game after game, and odder still when, to be fair, most viewers are not even that interested in hearing what is being said anyway. It is mostly all banal, bland, media-trained stuff, or in the case of some players, witless grunting interspersed with cliches. In some instances he’s even been superceded with direct questions being asked from the studio, which must be a bit galling.
Of course, as his is often the first microphone pushed under the nose of an aggrieved manager or player, he has, on occasions felt the sharp end of someone’s tongue. In this case Pards is bristling for a fight, despite Geoff’s emollient tones
It must be so tempting to say “oh do shut up, you big girl’s blouse”. The fact that he’s always so cool and collected, even when standing in front of a fire-breathing Chunky, a scowling Jose Mourinho or a grinning Claudio Ranieri is a testament to his years of experience and speaks of a man who is calm under pressure. That being said, telling a manager to shut his sulky face up and stop being so rude would make us all actually take notice of what’s being said, which can’t always be said.
Apparently produced the Footballers’ Football Show, which was one of my favourite programmes for the short run it had.
Big club bias
Is apparently friends with Sir Alex Ferguson and over the years there has been the suggestion that he sucks up to the big names, somewhat. But that’s very hard to prove. I would be more inclined to suggest there’s no BCB but rather EMB. English Manager Bias, even if Pardew doesn’t see it. I think it’s far less likely that Geoff will be tough on, say, Sean Dyche or Tony Pulis than on a new manager from overseas, if only because he’s likely to have to poke his mic under his nose for the next 25 years.
Loved or loathed?
Social media research revealed a remarkable disparity of feelings towards a man who, when all said and done, is hardly on our screens for more than a few minutes during a live game. It constantly surprises me just how deeply some seem to take against a man who, with all due respect, is hardly in front of us for long enough to stir the emotions much. Maybe this is a consequence of his longevity in the business.
“I once saw him walking around the market in St.Albans. He was wearing a fetching gilet.”
“Creeps me out – maybe the connection to Keys and Gray.”
“His best work was making Alex Ferguson say “bollocks” on live TV.”
“Rude and abrupt to players/managers he knows he can be and fawns over others like Mourinho/Ferguson. Wants to be in PFM club.”
“Still think of when he asked Tevez (who could barely speak English) whether the Terry/Bridge thing had ‘galvanised’ City.”
“Can’t stand him. Tries too hard to be cutting edge but fails because he wants to be their mates.”
“Shreevsy is big mates with Keysie. A proper, proper football man who learned from the best.”
“Good interviewer. Shows a genuine flair for asking probing and open ended questions.”
“Sometimes gives the impression he’s an integral part of the footballing circus, rather than a conduit for the viewer.”
“Appears to be a Fast Show character, right down to his name.”
“Should have been booted with Keys & Gray. The last dinosaur springs to mind. Fundamentally not good at his job.”
“A snide sh*thouse who will only be welcome on my screen the day somebody finally snaps & violates him with his own microphone.”
“Ultimately I think he’s a good guy who is more knowledgeable about the game than those regularly in front of the camera.”
Proper Football Man
Because he’s been there virtually from the start of Sky and their reinvention of broadcast football, he’s done well to ride out the ebb and flow of shifting social mores and avoid any on-air gaffes which can curse a man of a certain generation. Anyone who has had to admonish Sir Alex Ferguson for saying “bollocks” live on air can claim some degree of fame.
But it certainly wouldn’t be a surprise if he turned up on a sofa with Keysie and Andy in the middle-east. He does seem very tied to that era, though one suspects that as the man who merely held a microphone, they regarded him as lesser than their own self-appointed titanic status as The Men Who Invented The Game and in that regard, very much the man who has to go to the bar and buy the bags of peanuts from the display card of a semi-naked woman, and who returns to find someone has put their willy in his pint.
Even though no mere pointer of a microphone can hope to become a PFM, the PFMs do enjoy the company of alpha male TV people, as long as they’re prepared to bend the knee to them, never question the veracity of their views on football, indulge their deferred self-loathing, generally think they’re brilliant, are prepared to be the butt of their practical jokes and don’t mind being humiliated in public in the name of banter. Having to have a microphone surgically extracted from an orifice is all good harmless fun, Jeff. Or, indeed, Geoff.
And Shreevsy is a great PFM nickname, even lending itself to Shreevo, if variation is needed. All good PFM stuff. And Geoff has that square, stable-on-his-feet physique built for staying upright whilst doing shots of Reidy’s Kerosene, sodium peroxide and goose fat body cleanser.
And he loves a charity golf day. Mmm, that’s top PFMing. No concession to the metrosexual and looks nothing like Olivier Giroud. Mmm, that’s very, very good. Bit of After Dinner gravy? No problem. Mmm, delicious
No whiff of the lothario about him, which is fine because the boys don’t want too much competition when it comes to the slavering up to ladies. So while the attentions of Miss Lorne Sausage body of 1981 may hold little interest, he may be good at interviewing women for the PFMs to assess which is the most emotionally vulnerable and likely to be impressed by an expensive watch and liable to want to share a Jacuzzi with them, even though it’s not been cleaned for a year.
Easy to imagine him being forced to do mock interviews with the boys at 4.27am, with a weary look in his eye, wishing he could just go home and to bed, just as they all burst into laughter at a joke that in any other walk of society would be socially unacceptable.
Beyond the lighted stage
Recently presented awards at a Manchester United charity dinner (which does sound very like a PFM lifestyle choice). Has been a fundraiser for Nordoff Robbins and does voiceovers for what I believe the youngsters call video games. That aside, he’s done well to keep the rest of his life out of public view. It is easy to imagine him being unable to talk to anyone without a microphone in his hand, nor that he must have a pet name for it. Mike, perhaps, or possibly Phoney.
John Nicholson