Tom Hodgkinson on the theory of why sports people find it impossible to describe their achievements in anything other than clichés

Is it just me or is there is a sight disconnect between the magical, otherworldly and miraculous ability of the godlike Harry Kane to score beautiful goals from completely improbable situations – his head moving at a strange angle seven feet in the air, or his foot stretched out in front of him to the right, but kicking left – and in doing so uniting and elevating the entire nation into frenzied ecstasies – and his… erm… slightly bland post-match interviews?

After having scored two impossible goals against DR Congo on Wednesday, and given millions of England fans a near-religious experience, he said: “Yeah it was a crazy game obviously. You’ve got to keep pounding the rock. It could have been anyone in the team, today it was me. You have to stay patient in these games.”

The slight inarticulacy – and amazing humility, actually – of athletes was captured brilliantly by David Foster Wallace in his 1992 essay, “How Tracy Austin Broke My Heart”, one of several pieces he wrote on tennis. He finds her autobiography, and all sports memoirs, to be comically banal, and says the same of post-match interviews:

“It’s hard not to notice the way this same air of robotic banality suffuses not only the sports-memoir genre but also the media rituals in which a top athlete is asked to describe the content or meaning of his techne. Turn on any post-contest interview: ‘Kenny, how did it feel to make that sensational game-winning shoestring catch in the end zone with absolutely no I mean zero time on the clock?’ ‘Well, Frank, I was just real pleased. I was real happy and also pleased. We’ve worked so hard as a team and come a long way as a team, and it’s always a good feeling to be able to contribute.’”

I think perhaps no human being alive could really describe what it’s like to be a god or an angel, so it’s perhaps unfair of us to expect more. Also of course, they’re athletes; they have focused relentlessly on their sport and their bodies since they were three years old, probably with pushy parents in the background. They simply have not had the time to develop their wits and word power, and why should they?

It’s the same with lots of pop stars. Noel and Liam Gallagher are divinely inspired. They did of course create “Wonderwall”, the stirring anthem the fans sang along with the players in Houston yesterday. But in interviews you wouldn’t think they were angels sent from the heavens to unify us. They seem quite ordinary. Charismatic, yes, but not really godlike, and unable to explain the meaning of their music.

Foster Wallace says that yes, he finds the inability of great athletes to talk about themselves frustrating. But then he makes the brilliant point that they can’t talk about what was going through their mind because there was nothing in their mind. It was completely empty. They had switched off the controlling ego. They “bypass the head and simply and superbly act”.

As with music, the fan does a better job of interpreting than the star: “It may well be that we spectators, who are not divinely gifted, are the only ones truly able to see, articulate and animate the gift of the experience we are denied.”

And it’s precisely because they have disconnected their brain from their actions and turned themselves into fluid receptacles of godlike genius, that they can’t really say much about it:

“[T]hose who receive and act out the gift of athletic genius must, perforce, be blind and dumb about it – and not because dumbness and blindness are the price of the gift, but because they are its essence.”

Live well,

Tom

SELECTED COMMENTS

These comments were mailed to us after an earlier version of this piece was sent out as a newsletter. We like to publish a selection and reserve the right to edit them for clarity. Please add your thoughts in the box below.

Sir: I thought I would put pen to paper as I feel I might have some insight into why such athletes respond in this way.  My youngest daughter is an international athlete and I have watched her grow and develop alongside my other two daughters.  What marks her out is her mental focus.  I have never been a ‘pushy parent’ and you realise there is no need when the talent but more importantly the drive and determination is innate.  I simply had to transport and wash the kit – onerous in itself! Her ability to remain calm and focused, whether winning or losing is profound.  She is a team player and somehow manages to re-set and re-engage continuously.  She is a high academic achiever and a great communicator generally but mid tournament or season her responses can be equally bland but I think it is part of the focus and the training.
Bev Howell

Sir: I see this similar to politicians. I do not want my politicians (or footballers) to be interesting characters to chat with. I want them to (deliver policy) or win games. That’s where the value is.
Paul Walker

Sir: Kane follows a long line of incredibly dull English captains. I’ve always equated it to when corporations got heavily involved in sport , and suddenly no one was allowed to say anything controversial  for fear of upsetting their brand , which is obviously  complete bullshit anyway , so the captains job is to say nothing controversial , or interesting at all . We can’t have Ladbrokes or William Hill  being tarnished with anything immoral can we!
Scott Bethell

Sir: I think that athletes are trained to give generic responses during post match interviews. The main reason being is that they don’t say anything controversial. It happens in cricket, rugby, football and even Formula 1! Imagine if Lewis Hamilton was arrogant after winning the Spanish Grand Prix for Ferrari.
Venu Kistasami, Durban, South Africa

Sir: You might receive many similar responses to mine… – but if you want an entertaining sporting post-‘match’/event interview, go no further than Ronnie O’Sullivan, snooker’s greatest ever player. I don’t think he’s ever done a dull one! He is honesty personified (and doesn’t seem to be capable of anything else). After watching/listening to a number of his interviews, you might even find yourself wanting him to say something bland instead. I know I did after the one he gave a few months ago, which was so long, and packed with intimate details about his often turbulent thoughts/emotions, displaying surprising chinks in the armour of a total legend, I wanted to cry – but forced myself to concentrate on celebrating his sublime talent. (I am not on commission by the way – or one of his relatives – but for insights into sporting greatness, his first (!) autobiography “Ronnie” (2003) is a masterpiece, which I believe everyone should read – not least for his comments about mental health.)
Heather O

Sir: I don’t think Peter Ustinov, Richard Dawkins or Jonathan Miller ever hit a football at a speed of 94Kms/hr (though I think Peter Cook might have had a go). Let’s accept Harry as a pretty good centre-forward and look elsewhere for the next renaissance man. Cleese covered all this with ¨I’ve fallen off my chair Brian¨. Let’s move on.
RG Rose

Sir: Check out some of Chinese / America Olympic skier Eileen Gu’s press interviews, particularly the one where she’s asked if she thinks before she speaks.
Clemency Evans

Sir: You are so right. Zen approach – empty mind, thought free – let the body and brain go autonomous – if you have trained them right, the brain and the body know instinctively how to work together and what to do a great deal better than you do – and if you try to get involved with any active attempt to intervene and control taking the shot a miss will surely ensue.  I was taught this Zen approach for clay pigeon shooting where if you waste any time thinking about taking the shot, the clay has gone, as has your chance if hitting it.
James Nimmo

Sir: I hope I am the first tedious pedant to pretentiously point out it is DR Congo, not DC. The country has a PhD. I think your principle is correct, but your example is not. I felt ‘pounding the rock’ was unusually poetic for a footballer, and, as a fan of the stoics, I would expect you to appreciate that metaphor; in fact, I think it should be the strap line for the Idler from here on. Is that not exactly what the Idler has been doing for the last few decades? Pounding chips and splinters out of the rock of productivity, efficiency, and the Protestant work ethic.
Dr Dom Aversano, Congo

Sir: I guess there has to be an exception that proves the rule – the peerless Eric Cantona. Apart from his famous reflection on seagulls, trawlers and sardines, other quotable musings include his comment that “when times are difficult, I tell myself, ‘I’m just passing through’ “.  An unlikely Stoic amid the bland, blind and dumb?
Richard Bond

Sir: David Beckham, when interviewed, says: ‘yer know’ …about every 10th word. I can’t understand why the BBC employs Wayne Rooney as a football pundit because he is SO inarticulate, if you are able to comprehend  his actual comments. And, this afternoon, at Wimbledon, a young British guy who was interviewed after he had just won his match was SO AWFUL….and all we heard were lots of : ‘yeahs’…but not much else… Mind you, winning sports people are asked the most idiotic questions – and I don’t really blame them for spouting a load of equally idiotic replies.
Tim Christie

Sir: What a marvellous letter topic — with an insightful take on why post-match interviews in nearly every sport are so blah. Part of the problem is the immediacy of the interview, typically right on the heels of the tremendous effort the athlete has just expended. And, the questions asked are often unoriginal or less about the interviewee than the team/person just defeated (e.g., recent interview of Maya Joint after besting Serena Williams). Thank you for consistently thoughtful posts!
Barbara Hancock

Sir: While David FW as an American might complicate my theory slightly, I wonder if yours is missing the factor of modesty – either innate or forced upon us by (particularly British) society. What is the alternative to the (undoubtedly) bland, too humble, post match self-analysis? ‘Yeah, I was amazing wasn’t I? I knew I had it in me and when push came to shove I just delivered as I always do!’. I’m not saying it makes great TV but do we really want the alternative?
Tom Murray

Sir: Enjoyed your piece, but thought Kane’s interview last night was one of the better ones, when he spoke about the semi-random timing of the hero moment, and how the chips just happened to fall for him that day. He seemed genuinely stoical about it. Often I think the banality of stock answers comes from the banality of stock questions. “How do you feel?” they ask, just after someone’s won a match. How do you think I feel, you plonker? But they feel obliged to construct an answer, which these days, especially if it’s an east European tennis playing female, usually involves the super suffix, as in I’m super-happy or super-proud. The tame, slightly oleaginous media interviewers should ask practical questions e.g. about a player’s practice routine, which would prompt specific, more interesting answers. Ever since seeing Sebastian Coe win from the front, I’ve been particularly in awe of middle distance runners. In fact I wrote a song about it – here’s a link to an interim recording for your possible interest.
Martin Cassini

Sir: Maybe it’s that they realise that they are just ‘doing the job they’re paid to do?’  One of my children competed for England and Great Britain and yet all she could see after an event was the next competition to train for.  To paraphrase Gary Player ( a golfer i believe), after being asked about a very difficult shot he ‘holed’,  ‘to get this lucky takes hours and hours of practice’.
Gary Finch

Sir: Very interesting, but you have to be joking about the Gallagher brothers. Charismatic? Not in my world. Contrast this with the excellent gothic metal band Lacuna Coil, and their lovely female singer Cristina Scabbia. Charisma, looks, talent in abundance. And listen to her in any interview you like intelligently, charmingly and articulately answer any question put to her about her music. In her second language!
John Hubbard

Sir: When footballers retire they can subscribe to the idler magazine and take things easy.
Jason Palmer

Sir: I found your analysis of Oasis to be quite inaccurate. Noel Gallagher possesses a magical and dour wit—so much so that I believe he should host his own chat show. Have you seen any of his interviews? While Liam may be less articulate, he is incredibly funny and infinitely quotable. I recommend watching the clip of him running on Hampstead Heath where he famously declares, “I’m not a fucking jogger.” Is it possible that you simply don’t connect with the wit of a different milieu?
Sean G

Sir: It is also quite funny that “Wonderwall” has been chosen as an anthem for the England National Football Team at the FIFA World Cup 2026 and not a song from Blur or Suede because Noel Gallagher swears his allegiance to Ireland ( not sure if it’s the North or the Republic ) and not England. I guess Harry Kane’s reply has more to do with the dumbing down of society and ” be careful what you say so as not to offend anybody” rather than having a Zen moment. If it’s real humility then that is a great trait that he is trying to exhibit.
George Harrison from the Beatles said, “There are two teams in Liverpool and I support the other one”. Which basically says it all regarding the stance of the band on football. I am married to a professional sports woman and I am a musician myself but sometimes musicians should stay away from sports and politics and sports personalities should go for ellequetion classes to secure a job as a sport pundit for when they have to hang up their boots. I can only think of the following as a reply to the “Stunning Blandness” of it all and it’s from the Tv series Mrs. Brown where Agnes Brown explains her progress in elocution classes: She use to say “F%$@ off” but now she says “That’s Nice!”. I won’t say have an “Amazing” evening but rather to make sure you have enough alcahol to make you sleep well but still be of use in the morning ( or mid afternoon for those who can afford it).
Jacques Fourie

Sir: Oh don’t strain too hard to look down on such beings. Literary efforts to impart psychological insights may give some of us an illusion of elevated status, but Harry Kane is free from such wayward posturing, and he has the mind of a true idler, lost in the creative flow. This is Harry Kane who like his football colleagues Michael Olise and Eberechi Eze is also quite accomplished as a chess player. Elegant and passionately absorbing ways of idling, both. I am reminded of Cezanne who pointed to the fact that it doesn’t help to be thinking and theorising while in creative act, stating that his unprecedented radical approach would emerge as “I dream hazily.” Wouldn’t it be dreadful if Harry came off the pitch and offered us elevated and challenging philosophical views, strewn with clever asides about Zeno and Sartre. Rather like Eric Cantona, Harry has followed Rimbaud, plunged into the unknown depths of football, where the entire England team serves to derange our senses and heightens the bewildering effect, and then he matches that extreme state with a linguistic expression necessarily embracing the formless and the incoherent. Majestic. Obviously.
Richard Thomas

Sir: I’m convinced they’re not allowed take any credit for their work. A ‘stay humble’ clause in their contracts. Or perhaps it’s just the fear of saying something controversial. Every now and then, though, a classic slips through the cracks such as John Carver saying: “It’d be nice to win but the most important thing is the three points.” Or Mark Viduka commenting: “I would not be bothered if we lost every game, as long as we win the league.” I think the actual reason they have so many of these pointless interviews is the advertising. They may as well just tell Harry to shut up and step aside so the enormous advertising board can be seen better. Maybe the interviews are purposely made to be so boring that your eyes unknowingly wander to the Coca-Cola sign, and then you realise just how thirsty you are. Either way. I think I’ll try and approach next Monday with the mindset of a post-match interview: “You had 10 ales in the early hours of today and yet still managed to make it to work on time. How does that feel?” “Yeah, obviously, it means everything. It was a tough start, and there were moments when I didn’t think I’d get it done. But at the end of the day it’s a team effort, you know? The 6 paracetamols in the space of 2 hours and the giant Lucozade deserve as much praise as I do. I’m just happy we got the result in the end. We’ll recover well this week, keep our feet on the ground, and go again on Thursday.”
H Fairer

Sir: Banality is the mot juste. The interviewers’ questions are always leading questions but they never lead to an interesting answer. Perhaps we’d get better answers if the questions were better. For example, after the England v Congo game, one could ask Harry Kane “Why did you keep us waiting for 75 minutes before scoring?” Or something about tactics like “Wouldn’t it be more exciting to abandon possession play and take more risks?” Or a joke question like “Are you wearing lucky underpants?” At least that would bring a smile.
Stephen Terry

Sir: I love how you give good thought to a matter, mull it about, come to a bit of a gentle conclusion but then leave it to us, your idle readers, to think about it by ourselves. Thank you for giving us a chance to take ownership of the subjects you introduce us to.
Uda Delbanco

Sir: I have been an avid lurker on this mailing list for 20 years, ever since coming across your famous first book in a second hand shop on the Tottenham Court Road. Idling has been a part of my life ever since, although often more aspirational than practical given the general busyness of modern life.  One day I’ll get around to subscribing to the magazine again, although I worry that posting to Sydney may make it prohibitive. Anyhoo, to the point of my correspondence. Your email missive  about Harry’s banal post match interview immediately brought to mind a famous speech from an infamous coach of an Australian rules football team.  It was half time in the 1975 Grand Final and coach John Kennedy Snr’s Hawthorn were losing to North Melbourne. In response to some of his players over analysing what was going wrong and what they should do about it Kennedy extolled what has gone down in footballing folklore;  “Don’t think. DO ! ”  I’m sure there was more to it than that but that’s the bit everyone remembers.  They still lost by the way.
Phillip Lange

Sir: There are few public figures who can stand against the crushing combined weight of media training and an entirely justifiable fear of the social media backlash if you say anything slightly interesting. Many young sportspeople start out much more interesting but have that trained out of them like a weak left foot.
Mat Patterson

Sir: Thanks for these thoughts. Increased interest today given that the England captain was reduced to a squeak. My mind stretched back to a remark by Bob Dylan when asked how he had managed to produce three outstanding albums in less than two years in the mid sixties. Never a coherent speaker (curious in itself) he muttered something along the lines that he wasn’t sure – he couldn’t produce anything like that now
Neil Hunt

Sir: We routinely turn off the sound until kick off and switch off the tv when the final whistle blows. That includes all commercial breaks. Result: pure football bliss.
Rob Emmett

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