I read today an interesting article in the Financial Times on the portrayal of sport in fiction. The main argument of the piece is that American authors have never been afraid to tackle the subject and have covered sport extensively, and well. Meanwhile, British authors have been far less inclined to cover sport in fiction, and have been far less convincing when they’ve tried. Reading this piece alongside an article from the Observer covering similar ground a couple of years ago, has left me wondering about sport in fiction, and how sport could work in British fiction.

I think the FT article covers the whys and wherefores far better than I ever could, but there does seem to be an explanation in the make-up of your archetypal American and British writers. Obviously we’re veering into a whole world of horrible stereotyping, but many American writers seem far more interested in physicality generally and writing appears to have the potential to be a rugged pursuit – maybe Hemingway’s legacy, maybe something older and deeper. It doesn’t seem so weird for an American author to like sport. And sportswriting on the whole seems more respected and something of a craft, and is generally better than what you’ll see in the UK (although there are plenty of exceptions).

British writers (especially of the literary variety), meanwhile, seem much more removed from sport. Perhaps it has its roots in class, maybe something else, but the literary and sporting worlds seem very far apart. There almost seems to be a distrust between the two.

Yet I still hope there is room for an English sporting literature. Sport is pretty much one big analogy for life and life’s struggles, and American literature has shown it is a pretty broad and reliable canvas for covering the big issues and themes that great literature should. And perhaps that is the key to success – the fiction can’t just rely entirely on telling the story of sporting events. On any given day the reality will outstrip the fiction on that front. The fiction needs to use the sporting theme in a more nuanced way. It can’t be all cup finals and gold medals. It needs to tinker around the edges, tease out those details that will make a meaningful book.

I think there is one major issue, beyond the literary establishment appearing not to have much appetite for sport. It is that the obvious sports to cover, football or cricket, whilst ingrained into our culture and microcosms (for want of a better word etc) of that culture, are team sports and so pretty difficult to write well about. There are too many characters, too many teams. Plus, with football the action is too frenetic. Cricket, as a pretty close cousin to the more literarily inclined baseball, has more of a chance, but there is a real risk of a writer falling into village green clichés.

I’m no fan of golf, but as a more solitary pursuit it seems a more likely candidate for producing a great English sporting book. All those long walks ruined would allow plenty of opportunity for soliloquies on whatever the author might fancy. Tennis or boxing as individual sports could work well too, as we’ve seen time and again in American writing.

Maybe a lead needs to be taken from the few successes of British sporting writing. The Damned United fused real people with fiction, and focused on one dominant character in a compelling way. Fever Pitch looked at sport from the spectator’s perspective. The individual within sport seems the more obvious path to success, both critical and commercial.

Or perhaps as sport is such a neglected subject in English literature it offers authors the opportunity to tackle the subject in a far more inventive and experimental way. As there is not the baggage of thousands of great sporting novels to live up (or down) to, it feels like there is a certain freedom on how to approach the subject in a way that would challenge yet connect with a readership.

If a writer could successfully articulate the frenzy of the football pitch or the rugby field, or the tribalism and belonging of fandom, or the media saturation and hype that surrounds us, or ideally all of those themes, they would probably have something pretty special in their hands. Sport is an important part of my life, and I think like many people, I like literature that reflects my life and expands upon it, showing me new avenues, or familiar ones in a new way. I hope something interesting on the British sporting experience emerges soon. I’d buy it.

Image from Galt Museum and Archives, via Flickr

My favourite football team’s best player, Fernando Torres, is on the verge of leaving. And not just leaving, but leaving for one of our key rivals. My favourite baseball team is embroiled in the Madoff Ponzi scandal. England’s cricketers are not as good at the one-day game as I might have hoped. At least I don’t really care about tennis, as otherwise I might have been upset at Andy Murray losing in the Australian Open final.

Still, disappointment reigns.

I would give you my thoughts on Torres, but right now they would probably be shrill and ill-considered. Yes, even more ill-considered that the usual stuff I throw up here.

My thoughts will also be out-of-date before the day is out, as today is English football’s transfer deadline day, when all sense of reason, planning, perspective and value flies out the window as teams frantically bid to buy someone, anyone. There is bound to be a great deal of speculation, hype and maybe even genuine developments between me hitting ‘Publish’ now, and the close of the window at 11pm.

So, this really is a post about nothing. I had a few ideas beyond the Inevitable and Crushing Disappointment of Sport, but I don’t really see the point of tacking them onto this directionless, pointless post.

Ugh. But this is what blogging is all about, right? Self-indulgence Yeah!

However, if you do want some considered and entertaining reading on Liverpool, visit The Armchair Liverpool Fan, the new blog from regular visitor to this parish, Steven Harris. It’s really rather good.

I may well have some football thoughts tomorrow, once the dust has settled on the Transfer Deadline Madness. Or I may just be rocking back and forth, sobbing, in a corner somewhere.

To help, here’s a definition of ‘man crush’ from Urban Dictionary:

“The highest tier of a man’s love for another man, without having any sexual want towards the man.”

So, who do you idolise in the world of sport, who makes you sigh at their prowess, marvel at their skill, gaze at their cheekbones. Er, no. Not that last one. No. Never confused. Never.

Roger Federer

You could make a strong argument that Federer is the complete tennis player, and on his way to being the best ever. It’s incredible that despite that, and so much success, he seems so grounded. And here is also one dapper man. I think I first developed a full-on man crush on him when he wore a crisp white blazer when taking the field at Wimbledon. Such a wonderful nod to tradition – and such style!

David Wright

My main Mets man crush. Their best player, de facto team leader, and all-round nice guy. Just see his Wikipedia entry. I was very sad when I didn’t get David on my fantasy baseball team this season. Probably too sad. Maybe next year.

So, who is your man crush this week?

Federer by Squeaky Knees, Wright by Kidsire, both via Flickr

• Pitch Invasion looked at where women’s soccer is king, the story of the success of the University of Portland women’s soccer team, and how soccer has become one of the most popular sports (and selling points) of this particular American college. If you read one thing this week, read this.
• Meanwhile, I enjoyed seeing the ever-dapper Roger Federer pulling off perhaps the greatest shot ever.
• The Mets’ Jeff Francoeur seems to divide opinion somewhat, but the Real Dirty Mets Blog thinks that he has earned his spot for next season.
• BaseballGB has been following Great Britain’s efforts at the Baseball World Cup.
• And The Cricket Blog looks at the incredibly poor state of the England one-day side.

What have you enjoyed this week?

I recently read an article in the International Herald Tribune about how sports coverage on television in the States is evolving. Cable companies have started to integrate twitter feeds into their service, so viewers can not only watch the feed while they watch a game, but also tweet themselves through their remote control.

mlb.tv, meanwhile, has integrated twitter into its media player, so you can tweet (with hash tags handily added for the game in question) and read the feed as the game progresses. I’ve tried this myself and it really is a fun addition. I imagine it works well with sports like baseball and (American) football as there are so many intervals in play. As the match is made of a series of discrete moments there are plenty of opportunities to tweet, and read other people’s tweets. Would this work so well in a faster-paced sport like basketball, ice hockey or football? I’m not sure.

As the article suggests, this sort of interaction makes watching sport at home a lot more like watching sport in a bar or with friends. Rather than just letting the game wash over you, you can state your opinion and find out what other people think, in real time from the comfort of your very own comfy chair.

‘Interactivity’ isn’t necessarily new in sporting coverage on television. Here in England, the BBC has experimented with ‘red button’ technology, where the viewer can choose which match to watch at Wimbledon, or which audio stream to listen to when watching the football – the TV commentary, radio commentary, or no commentary at all. Sky has offered similar options, plus offering a number of camera options for games. But did anyone ever watch the player cam, focusing on one man all game?

What’s interesting about the twitter developments are that the ‘interactivity’ is all about creating dialogues, between viewers and also between the viewer and the television company. Previous technology has concentrated on providing a series of viewing options. The experience remained a passive one. Now the viewer isn’t restricted to shouting impotently at the TV. Now s/he can share those views. And have them saved for posterity on his/her twitter feed.

Will this revolutionise television? Probably not in the short-term. There will always be plenty of people who aren’t interested in articulating their views, and certainly not interested in reading the views of others. There is also the quality control issue. If the feed is full of drivel, it won’t catch on.

However, if it can be built upon and refined, interactive sporting coverage on television could work. It certainly seems the best ‘genre’ for it. It’s on regularly, has a dedicated and opinionated audience, and its integral unpredictability should, most of the time, bring up plenty to comment on. A twitter feed alone may not be the answer, but something more sophisticated might be just around the corner, that will put a stop to television being a purely passive pastime for the majority of viewers.