With the rise of social media over the past 10 years or so, it is now standard practice for commentators in any major sporting event to have their performance critiqued in a public forum.
Looking through some of the comments, it can often feel like there’s more discussion around those delivering the commentary than the actual match itself.
Criticism is not difficult find — and there are undoubtedly times when it is harsh and excessive. Some fans want to have a pop at commentators purely because it has become a fashionable thing to do.
But there are also instances where the criticism has substance and justification. Listening to ITV’s lead duo of Sam Matterface and Lee Dixon during England’s quarter-final win over Norway last weekend was one such example.
The incessant wittering of Matterface would have had plenty of viewers reaching for the mute button, while Dixon spoke with all the enthusiasm of a man reading the small print of an insurance policy.
Over the past few years, Matterface has always struggled to justify ITV’s decision to promote him above the excellent Clive Tyldesley as their lead commentator on football.
Sam Matterface has become ITV’s lead commentator but many are unconvinced by his ability
Much of his delivery often feels scripted and robotic, as was evidenced in a clip ITV released on social media from an England match earlier in the tournament.
After Jude Bellingham had scored a goal, Matterface had his head down and read from a pre-prepared script for an extended period of time.
It was a terrible look. It showed how reliant he was on scripted lines, devoid of authenticity, and lacking the organic and poetic beauty that is the preserve of all the great commentators.
That is not to say that commentators should not prepare a dossier of notes, facts and stats. Of course they should. That is a key part of their preparation.
The difference with Matterface is that he relies on a pre-prepared script to describe the very moments when emotion, joy and spontaneity should flourish.
The clip released by ITV proved it beyond all doubt. What is most telling is that the clip has since been deleted, and you do wonder if that was at Matterface’s request given the optics and criticism.
Another of his tendencies which draws criticism is his habit of constantly trying to fill every second of air space. Quite simply, he never shuts up.
All of the great commentators know when to keep quiet and allow the pictures to speak for themselves. It is a key part of the job.
The great Barry Davies once remarked that one of the greatest skills any commentator can have is to know when to speak, and to know when to shut up. It is a skill Matterface has yet to master.
Lee Dixon has a tremendous ability to inject a touch of misery into the most joyful moments
It was the late, great Richie Benaud who also once said: ‘Put your brain into gear and if you can add to what’s on the screen, then do it. Otherwise, shut up.’
Where’s the next Barry Davies or Richie Benaud? Likewise, will we ever see another Bill McLaren, Murray Walker or John Motson?
What about the next Peter O’Sullevan, Ewen Murray or Peter Alliss? These are some of the names who have delivered some of the most iconic lines in British sport.
‘Elementary, my dear Watson,’ the words of Alliss during the Open Championship at Turnberry in 1977 and the duel in the sun between Tom Watson and Jack Nicklaus.
Davies was another whose timing and delivery with a clever turn of phrase was quite superb.
Something has been lost from the golden age of commentary and, admittedly, part of that will be down to the different demands of the job.
It can often feel like commentators and their producers are terrified of even a second or two of dead air, like it is to be avoided at all costs.
Matterface’s habit of leaning on prepared scripts is symptomatic of it all. He was promoted above his station and has never shown any ability to grow into the role.
In big moments, the spontaneity that once defined the greats — those instinctive, unrehearsed lines of colour and emotion — gives way to something more plastic and contrived.
Dixon’s delivery, meanwhile, has been criticised for draining energy rather than injecting it, turning potential highs into a curiously deflating experience.
Last weekend, it sounded like his sole objective was to talk Norway down at every opportunity and discredit them as much as possible.
There is a wider shift in broadcasting. The rise of analytics, the pressure to entertain across digital clips and social media, and the sheer volume of content have conspired to make silence feel like failure.
Great orators like Barry Davies are hard to find in the modern-day commentary boxes
Where once a commentator might pause to let a goal’s roar sink in for a moment, now the instinct is to narrate from a script.
The problem is not confined to football or to ITV. At Wimbledon this summer, the BBC’s decision to part ways with longstanding voices such as Andrew Castle and John Lloyd feels like another quiet surrender to the same forces.
Castle and Lloyd are hugely respected figures who possess an abundance of knowledge and experience in tennis. Their departures risk damaging the quality of the BBC’s tennis commentary and punditry, in pursuit of a younger audience.
It might feel tempting to dismiss these complaints as purely nostalgic. But the evidence is there. Just listen for yourself.
Great commentary does not merely describe; it interprets without dominating, amplifies emotion without manufacturing it.
Where are the heirs to Davies, Motson and the others? Broadcasters chase metrics of engagement in a landscape where attention is fragmented.
In doing so, they risk homogenising the product. A World Cup deserves better than a scripted overlay; it demands a voice attuned to the theatre unfolding below.
The Matterface-Dixon partnership is not uniquely culpable — they are symptoms of an era that values constant stimulation over artistic economy.
But their prominence during this tournament has thrown the issue into sharp focus. Football at its highest level retains the capacity to be truly exhilarating.
Commentary should complement and enhance that beauty, not leave it drowning in scripted drivel.
