RISE OF THE PUNDITS

Football journalism has changed muchly over the last few decades, and I do not mean simply that electronic gadgetry has taken over or that the Remington typewriter has been replaced by the digital platform, in all its guises. I mean the approach and the philosophy has changed, too.
The editor who gave me my first chance to cover League football said simply, by way of instruction, 'Remember, you represent all those supporters who cannot be at the match.' What he meant was, report the actual game by all means, but also tell them what the ground was like, and the weather, and the atmosphere and emotion.
I suppose I did occasionally lapse into the poetic or the dramatic, or tried to, but by and large it was about the football. Tactics were interesting at an elementary level only, but not all-consuming. Instead, my football priority was to see it free-flowing and exciting, and often judged a match on how long passing movements were sustained, or how graceful it all was. In cricketing terms, I looked for the Tom Graveney in the game rather than the Ian Botham.
Essentially, this was all I (or we) knew, despite the occasional efforts of various managers or coaches to enlighten us. Few fans really knew much about the game, either. They only saw what happened on the pitch. And most clubs or managers didn't do Press conferences in order to try to explain things. For a start, there weren't enough of us to justify such a thing. Instead, it was a question of catching the boss on the phone at home or sneaking into his office to snatch a few words when things were reasonably quiet.
'Look,' I remember one manager saying after I had grumbled (in print) about the quality of the entertainment, 'this is a business, and we got a bloody point.'
Things in general began to change when regional television started to take a greater interest in the game. Now managers were very keen to explain the technicalities. Meanwhile, Pressmen waiting in their Press Rooms began to be told, 'The manager will be with you as soon as he has finished with the television people.' Priorities had changed, and from that point on we knew our place. And when the manager did come it was usually with a few mumbled words on the 'sick as a parrot' level which we never even bothered to jot down.
But other important changes were in the offing, too, beginning with the invention of the TV pundit. Now, and for almost the first time, the tactical and physical nitty-gritty of the game was openly discussed, particularly when ex-players or ex-managers replaced 'TV personalities' in the studio. There was a new language to learn, too. The fans' (and journalists') football vocabularies widened and blossomed. And then came the TV replay facility, which turned everyone into an instant referee as well.
The situation now is that few people seem to go to a match simply to enjoy the football, or the spectacle. They all want to chew over the tactics, shine a spotlight on the faults, and wonder why the manager did A when it was obvious he should have done B, or complain the ref got it wrong.
Is the game any better for all this additional expertise? I don't think so. It has simply increased pressure and shortened patience spans. Mind you, fans in general have always had opinions, but it is no longer whether the boss should have played Boggins at inside-left instead of Jaggers. Now it is when the sub should have come on, or when Figgins should have been taken off, who plays in the hole or who doesn't lay it off or work the channels.
But after all, we are all pundits (and managers, coaches and referees) now.