The X Factor Personality Of The Year

There was definitely an air of desolation about the BBC Sports Personality this year, held in the knowledge that the huge majority of the viewing populace was next door watching the X Factor. Even the desperate flailing attempts of the producers to attract more numbers from the pop side by putting on a show that looked more like Take That at the O2 seemed in vain.

Years ago the ceremony resided at the cosy but inferior conferencing facilities of the Queen Elizabeth II Conference Centre where they crammed in the sporting glitterati to such an extent that Lennox Lewis would be forced to sit on Willie Carson’s lap. But it’s a guest booker’s nightmare when the operation moves the 12,500 capacity Sheffield Arena. Hence I spotted amongst the ranks the likes of Brian Deane and Devon Malcolm and Kriss Akabusi and myriad other unknowns who aren’t fans of the X Factor. They’ve even created an award for unsung heroes just to boost the invitee list with lollipop-lady types who probably think that Simon Cowell is an abomination.

I suggest that next year the Beeb would do well to head south to the comfortable surroundings of Parliament Square and return to the low-key old school format complete with the hilarious informal intermission bit where Frank Bruno played tiddlywinks against Desert Orchid and stuff like that. However much you blur your eyes Sue Barker is not Cheryl Cole and SPOTY is not the X Factor. Create a point of difference because at the minute nothing very interesting is happening until in the end Joe McEldery wins.

Something Other Than Cricket

So the dust begins to settle on the Ashes. Which not only creates an awful powdery mess but also gives the opportunity to reflect elsewhere in sporting globe. This summer I have treated cricket like the favoured child of the family, ruffling its hair and generally showering it with attention. But other stuff has happened too.

The World Athletics Championship in Berlin seemed like a jolly lark. I only caught about 30 seconds of it but that was time enough to watch Usain Bolt sprint off with a couple of world titles and crack both his records in the process. He may have gone even faster had he not been watching Andrew Flintoff at mid-on while he was on his starting blocks. The massive talking point of the meet was Caster Semenya. It won the ladies’ 800m final at a Jonathon Trott but then found itself at the centre of an as yet unresolved gender controversy. I feel sympathy for it. Maria Mutola competed at the top level for over a decade without so much as a suspicious glance at the upper lip, despite the fact she could quite easily have been Devon Malcolm’s more rugged younger brother.

Something tells me I haven’t got over the cricket yet. Pesky kid.