Hack attack - a relationship so misunderstood

Football and media: It’s a marriage of convenience that doesn’t always serve its intended purpose.

Any relationship where the two entities co-exist as part of a financial arrangement is going to be uneasy. And without the media, football would be a barren industry, with little income to call upon. Those nine-figure transfer fees, those six-figure weekly wages, that huge exposure of the Premier League...remove the broadcasters and all of this is nothing. It simply wouldn’t exist in its current form.

Those interviews you see immediately at the end of the match are a nuisance for all concerned. They can be a source of anxiety for communications staff wondering whether the player or staff member will stay on message or go rogue. The players don’t really like them; the managers could do without them – you are effectively interviewing people while they’re still in the zone, where, really, everyone could do with a period of reflection before they face the cameras. The interviewer knows that he or she will be speaking to a national audience of millions. But this is what the broadcasters demand on the basis that, yes, the viewing public do want immediate reaction.

And then there is the viewer. When was the last time you watched a game on TV and then stuck around for the immediate reaction piece-to-camera. Maybe if there’s a controversial moment, or a spot of drama…but most matches are knocking on the door of the mundane. We can barely remember the match within a few hours; let alone need to talk about it straight after. World Cup games are a different beast: mainly because of the vast audiences tuning in and because of the boom-or-bust nature of knockout football. And, of course, because this is England. It is the biggest story in town.

The week-to-week reality of the on-the-whistle interview is that it is generally a box-ticking exercise for all concerned. Until, of course, someone dares to elicit newsworthy answers, and then all hell breaks loose. Which is exactly what happened after England’s win against Norway.

Gabriel Clarke's interviews with Thomas Tuchel and Jude Bellingham for ITV Sport have prompted a social media outrage. Did the comments delivered by Tuchel and Bellingham reflect the outpouring of emotion in the stands after the match? Clearly not. But that isn't Clarke's problem. Tuchel wasn’t particularly complimentary about the performance. Clarke, a hugely-respected interviewer and of vast experience, then spoke to Bellingham and cited some of Tuchel’s comments – to which the England midfielder shrugged away the citations with a ‘whatever’. To have not put this to Bellingham would have been a dereliction of his duty. Clarke did so, and rightly. What followed was predictable social media scorn.

This is where the disjoin kicks in - the perceived expectation that reporters should fall in line with the wave of emotion or success, or simply bowl underarm to avoid causing ripples. Interviewers have a job to do; they are not cheerleaders. Their job is to get under the skin of stories - yes, sometimes even ask awkward questions after big wins. That's the job. Otherwise, reporters are no different than fans, other than having the privilege of free access. Clarke's questions were legitimate and appropriate. His role was to think quickly, process, and interpret what he had been told.

Fans bring the colour, the noise, the instantaneous joy or sorrow that comes with a football result; the media are there to cast a critical eye over the match they’ve just seen, knowing they’ll be speaking to those involved in the name of content. And that’s how it should be. Once those lines are blurred or ignored, journalists are essentially cadging a free match.

And when reporters do evoke something remotely interesting there is a panic that it might be unsettling or destructive. I see little criticism of Tuchel for volunteering those comments, or of Bellingham for the dismissive tone of his reaction. Nor should there be - it was, to all intents, a storm driven by angry online discourse, desperately seeking disapproval in something that doesn’t warrant it. Some people seemingly want to be angry about something; it's the modern way.

England are in a World Cup semi-final: that implies whatever the dynamic is between players and manager, something is working well. Clarke, in his capacity as a respected and long-serving ITV reporter, isn't there to wave a flag or belt out Oasis tunes. He dutifully performed his job by asking the questions that generated a newsworthy response. And, here's the thing: two days on, we are still talking about it. Job done.

The moment any journalist stops asking tough questions is the day he or she ceases to be a journalist.