Chapter 37

Thai television and the Beautiful Game:

I have been entranced by football ever since my uncle Ern took me to watch Pompey at Fratton Park in the late nineteen forties. I can still feel the atmosphere, the tension, hear the ribald comments and even remember that the opposing team was Charlton Athletic with Sam Bartram in goal. The Pompey Chimes and cries of “keep it on the island” have become a part of my life.

I have wasted many hours trying to explain, to unreceptive females usually, that football can have the grace and elegance of Mozart or the deep tonal gloom of Sibelius. It can contain the sublime joy of Beethoven or the comedy of Gilbert and Sullivan.

In essence, to me, football is music in all its glory.
To be tone deaf must be very sad.
To be football deaf, as it were, must be equally sad.
I suppose what I have tried not to emphasise in my enthusiasm is that there has been a lot of music written which does less than nothing for me. So Ok there is a huge body of music written for popular consumption within the last twenty years or so which not only leaves me cold but also physically distressed.

I have tried very hard not to watch Thai Tv. However just recently it has rained non-stop for what seems like an eternity. I have succumbed to the temptation.

Let me explain Thai Tv to you:

Approximately one half of Thai Tv is imported from other sources. Most of this appears to be sport. And most of this sport appears to be football.

I have never in my life been exposed to so much football.

Flick a channel at random. Here is a match between two South American teams, of whom I have never heard, being commented on in an unknown language.
Try another channel. Ah that’s better it’s Liverpool vs. Everton. But wait a moment, something is wrong, why are they wearing those silly shorts. Oh my god it is a part of a series on Liverpool derbies going back to at least the seventies.

Try again. Ah a good picture, modern apparel and a team I recognise, Chelsea. A slight problem though. The commentary is in, I think, Thai, and the other team’s name and the score of the match is hidden by some local hierogliphics which I suspect are some advert for whitening Thai complexions.

Try again. Liverpool vs. Wolves. Hang on a minute - I’ve seen that twice this week already. There is a limit to how often I like to listen to even Mozart.

And again. This looks promising. Real Madrid vs. somebody, with an English commentary. It’s a bit quiet though. Turn it up a bit. Bang!! Suddenly the reason becomes apparent. Over the top of the English commentary come the loud, loud voices of a couple of Thai commentators.
I just can’t take any more of this.

Flick, flick, flick. Ah golf.
An unpronounceable Asiatic gentleman is leading some middle eastern tournament by two strokes from a field of equally unpronounceable wannabees. Great!
Hang on there is a break here where a totally unmemorable golf professional demonstrates how to bend one’s knees to prevent “shanking”. I’ll never shank again.

Flick, flick and flick again fast ejecting “popeye” a black and white fifty’s sci-fi and some American sub-Rambo garbage.
Ah, at last I seem to have reached the high point of Thai culture. Thai Soap.

Now Thai “Soap” is very distinctive.
To say it is formulaic is like saying that the pope is a catholic
The two main characters are a beautiful girl who is crying and a handsome young man who is frowning in a desperate, trying hard to understand, sort of way.
Well that’s about it really. Just throw in an occasional bad character to create some sort of story and the odd peripheral older people to, I suppose add some sort of depth. Stir not very vigourously - and there you have it - the classic Thai Soap opera.
Incidentally I have never understood why older people are expected to be wiser. In my experience they are not. They just have more information to confuse themselves with.

Anyway I'm sure I could write this stuff. I could save the Tv production companies a fortune by writing a computer program which encapsulated all these several facets.
All the user would need to do was change a few names and push the button which randomised a few of the more promising variables like after how many minutes should the heroine burst into tears and for how long should the hero glower intensely.

I think that is about all I can take of the Tele for now. >My brain is overheating.

I think I’ll just go outside and stand in the rain for a bit.

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