| ◄"Now let's
have a look at Two. How close can you give me on the rider's face? Good; yes,
that's Burton. Come in tight, now. Lovely shot, just what we want.
"Now One...
Bit late on that one, let him go. Four, can you look right down the straight?
Try your longer lens. Fine, hold that shot
"
COMMENTATOR
Meanwhile
Murray Walker, who is to give the commentary, is wandering round the riders'
paddock. Chatting, making notes of men and machinery. His job? Here he is: "Few
people realize that the commentator is seeing exactly the same picture as the
viewer. He must talk about only what can be seen on the monitor and ignore
everything else.
"He wears
headphones and is linked in to the circuit over which the producer is issuing
instructions to the various camera operators. So while he talks, he listens with
half his mind, trying to pick out the messages which concern him alone.
"In those
circumstances it is terribly easy to get foozled, yet he must stay cool, calm
and collected and try to build up to a climax on the last lap.
"The real
problem is one of administration, since the producer, cooped up in the caravan,
can tell what is going on only from the commentary. He can speak to mebut my
only way of speaking to him is through the audience. I must lead the producer
when necessary, and be led by him at other times.
"Here's an
example. Jeff Smith, say, had built up a good lead, but a little way back there
is a good scrap for second place. So I say something like: 'But some ten seconds
behind Jeff, numbers 27 and 34 are fighting it out...
"Brian will
take the tip and, over my headphones, I will hear him say: 'O.K., Murray; coming
up ... now,' just in time for me to continue smoothly with: 'as you can see...'
It certainly isn't easy."
That it
isn't. Inside the darkened control van it is hotand crowded. There are men
adjusting the picture quality on the little screens; others attend to the sound
side.
Amid the
apparent confusion, Brian Johnson listens intently for the cue from London, one
eye on the large clock. "All cameras, please. One minute to go... Half a minute.
Ten seconds. Cue in, Murray." We're off!
Inside the
van, the tension can be cut with a knife. Brian's eyes dart from screen to
screen, his mind one shot ahead of the picture going out. "Hold that, Two;
.lovely. Murray, coming to Three next. With you, Three." The orders rattle out
like machine-gun fire.
As
he clicks over each switch, he snaps his fingers"Now"; he can't help
himself. "Four, stay with it. Don't pan... no, don't pan! All right, up
to you, One ; get 11 and 89. O.K., Murray, got you; Horsfield and Burton
coming up... now! Again those snapping fingers.
Out on the circuit, Jeff Smith is riding a tremendous
race.
Nowhere in the picture on the opening lap, he is fighting for the lead
with half a lap remaining.
But
producer Johnson, you feel, is not just watching Jeff. Momentarily he is
Jeff, sharing his anxieties, feeling each jar and jolt as the B.S.A.
charges across the rutted ground. Then the chequered flagfor Jeff and
Brian both.
"O.K., everybody. Wrap it up. Well done!" There is elation in his voice,
a grin of sheer relief on his face, beads of perspiration on his
forehead. He turns away from the monitors at last.
"That race," he says, "was so good, we'll be accused of fixing it!"
Down
from their high perches come the cameras. Aerials retract, cables are
stowed away, and the circus train is made ready to roll again, on into
next week's "Grandstand." Another day, another programmebut by that
time we'll be back through the screen, back from Looking-glass Land. ■ |