Paul Lewis: Kissing the byline

Opinion

One of the great dangers of journalism is what a friend of mine in the UK calls "kissing your own byline". It's a reference to the plethora of picture bylines that are found throughout journalism these days (including on this column) and, bluntly, to journalists being so in love with their own pronouncements that they lose sight of reason and logic.

At this stage, I'd like to introduce the name of Stephen Jones, the Sunday Times writer who has made a mini-career out of winding up Kiwi rugby fans by fashioning all manner of snotty things to say about All Black rugby. He's been largely found out these days and doesn't have anywhere near the impact he once had, as even the dimmest catch on eventually.

This isn't a snake job on Jones - well, not entirely. I can't resist one story. There we were, sitting at Ballymore watching the 1987 All Blacks during the Rugby World Cup (the only one the All Blacks have ever won, as Jones constantly reminds us). They were playing an ordinary Welsh side and winning comfortably when the Welsh tried to stop the rot by disrupting the All Black flow.Specifically, a lock called Steve Sutton, not sighted before or since, started to get in Gary Whetton's face at lineouts. Open warfare broke out, with Sutton aiming several blows at Whetton who was, of course, entirely blameless in this and all other matters. Whetton covered up and the event ended when skipper Buck Shelford arrived to introduce Sutton to the best sleeping pill known to man, other than sex and the sound of the ocean.

We all held our breath. Sutton was prone, no doubt listening to the Welsh choirs playing in his head. Buck's peacemaker must surely lead to him being sent off. But referee Kerry Fitzgerald surprised us all. He waited until Sutton regained consciousness - and then sent him off.

Jones couldn't help himself. Wandering over to the Antipodean quarter of the press box, he boomed in our general direction: "Kiwis' Day of Shame".

This proves three things:

1: He really does like winding up Kiwis.

2: He thinks in headlines (although not very good ones) and ...

3: He was using the threat of the big, bad Fleet St press to show us how our nationhood and manhood were going to be sorely wounded by the merciless jab of the British quill.

Sitting next to me was Phil Gifford, now of Radio Sport, who had one of those quick comebacks that you always wish you'd thought up. Gifford looked at Jones and said: "Welshman Woken Up To Be Sent Off". Well, all right, maybe you had to be there ...

Scroll forward 15 years or so and you will remember Jones banging on about the Super 12 being patta-cake rugby and how New Zealand's forward play had been damaged at international level. There are two things to be said here:

1: He was pretty much right, wasn't he? and ...

2: He went on and on and on about it and infuriated Kiwis all over again when the All Blacks beat England, only to be told by Jones that England were "tired". Like I say, a wind-up merchant.

But not without substance. In last week's Sunday Times, a reasoned and logical Jones article looked at the defeat of England by Australia. When he's not writing for a Kiwi audience Jones is rather good, and this was an insightful piece.

Until, at least, you got to the bit where he wraps up the autumn test series by saying "Australia, New Zealand or South Africa can yet be said to be developing proper, rounded, international forwards".

Presumably this was written before the All Black demolition of France, sending all three members of their front row to the casualty ward. But Jones has kissed his own byline on this point so many times that the newsprint is smudging. Time to move on, Stephen, and time to stop making pompous pronouncements before a game has been played. Analysis is one thing, obsession another.

However, it must be said that Jones was nowhere near as bad as his colleague on The Times, Simon Barnes, who had a piece published on the day of the All Black-France match. It began as a tongue-in-cheek piece berating the All Blacks for sending development teams, for not playing England, and taking up the soft option of the Barbarians.

However, his tongue left the cheek later in the article:

"There is precious little that is exceptional about the present All Blacks, apart from the mystique. They have hung on to that with glorious tenacity but surely it is time that someone noticed that there was a shortfall in actual performance. You can't go swaggering about claiming to be the best rugby team in the history of the universe if you don't (a) beat other leading rugby teams or (b) even play them.

Times have changed and everyone has moved on except New Zealand. They are mired in the glories of their past and, instead of moving on, they set up soft tours and pick squads that can lose without shame. The world has caught up with the All Blacks myth and realised that, although the kit remains the coolest in world sport, the clothes have no emperors."

There it is: the journalistic sin of the pretty phrase superceding common sense; the sound of one's own voice being preferable to the actual argument. He didn't see the All Black assault on France coming - but it wouldn't have fit the prose anyway. Barnes doesn't have Jones' knowledge of rugby but it's a superb piece of byline kissing. Go on, Simon, give it another smooch, you know you want to.