Many of the greatest moments in English football in the last half-century have been voiced, undeniably, by John Motson. The BBC commentator, who has died aged 77, embodied a quintessentially British type of fandom. A fan more than an analyst, he takes the small club as seriously as the big one – perhaps even more, because they can provide him with a giant-kill to serenade.
“Motty”, in his timeless sheepskin coat, became a constant fixture of national life. The first historical facts and statistics he likes to read may seem insignificant, but they reflect his creed: he sees English football as a living organism born in the Victorian era.
Motson himself was born in Salford in 1945, a few weeks after the victory over Hitler. He grew up mostly in London, where his father was a football-mad Methodist minister with a booming voice who preached in the city’s poorest neighborhoods. Aged six, Motson went with his father to his first match, Charlton vs Chelsea. He claims he never joined a particular club, but loves the game, the colors, the name and the shirt number. Fandom will support him through homesickness at boarding school.
After leaving school at 16, he became a local newspaper reporter, then worked in radio in Sheffield. When he first applied to the BBC, the interviewers laughed when they learned about his experience. But soon, the company hired him.
He participated in the football highlights program Match the day in 1971, and a year later I got a break. Non-league Hereford host Newcastle in an FA Cup replay. The victory in Newcastle was seen as a formality, about five minutes into the night’s show, so the match was assigned to the program’s 26-year-old junior. Motson went to Hereford with two players, his friends Ricky George and Billy Meadows.
Minutes from time, part-time striker Ronnie Radford rocketed home Hereford’s equalizer from 35 yards. It’s a scene from provincial football bygone: Radford’s undersized shirt that rode up to his stomach when he celebrated, while the parka-clad supporters stormed the muddy pitch. George scored Hereford’s winner, but many who watched 10 minutes that night will remember Motson’s “Radford the scorer, Ronnie Radford!”
Motson does not do poetry or tactical analysis. “I’m very happy that my comments use better language, well-rounded phrases, a wider vocabulary and memorable lines,” he wrote in his autobiography. “Unfortunately, there are twenty-two men who play football very quickly.”
His job is to tell a 90-minute story, carried by the joy of a child but without the slightest factual error. A perfectionist afraid of misidentifying players, he prepares obsessively for each game. He would go around the England watching team to remember faces, collect football phone numbers pumped for news.
Even Manchester United manager Alex Ferguson largely relied on him in the lineup the next day, trusting Motson not to blab. Anne, Motson’s wife since 1976 (she is also survived by their son Frederick), helped compile the pre-game statistics. Motson wrote color notes on both teams on a felt-tip pen, then stuck them on both sides of the card.
Comedians make fun of clichés. The comedy creation of Steve Coogan, the stupid TV reporter Alan Partridge, and the sports reporter at Harry Enfield and the Chums both wearing Motsonesque sheepskin. But Motson has a superpower: his voice. Speech therapist Jane Comins identified her as having twice the average voice frequency, speed and volume.
No wonder he usually beat his friend Barry Davies in a decades-long duel to be awarded the BBC’s biggest game. Motson has commented on 10 World Cups and 29 FA Cup finals. He stayed 50 years at the BBC, longer than almost anyone else in British television. Working there “is like giving your ego a tremendous boost”, he told the BBC’s own programme, Desert Island Discs.
He lamented the “greed and complacency” of modern football: a Champions League filled with non-championship teams, rising wages and club debt. But his nostalgia turns to memories of the 1980s, when he admits, “my love for football has left me a bit”. Most modern games are safe.
The globetrotting commentator remains “very British”, says George. For their first meal together in Seoul during the 2002 World Cup, Motson took her to McDonald’s, explaining, “I like cheeseburgers.”
Generous to his junior colleagues and regular fans who wrote him letters (he didn’t do email), “Motty” paid for his annual dinner with friends at Fino in Mount Street, London. After retiring in 2018, he continued to travel to matches, which were held by clubs eager to celebrate English football.