World Series of Backgammon - Playing the Media Game

WSOB: Playing the Media Game
by Will Cockerell - 13 March 2008

JESSIE CANTRELL

Just a few days to go until the extravaganza of the World Series of Backgammon takes a northbound swing through the idyllic surrounds of Scandinavia. Can it really be a third of a year since the fantastic romp we all enjoyed in Leicester Square? How’s your game? Mine’s worse than ever. I guess I’m due for an uptick in fortunes then…

As the brand of WSOB grows, and we attract ever growing publicity and popularity around the world, it is time to look at ourselves and ask how each and every one of us can help continue in our pioneering quest to bring Backgammon to the masses. Would it perhaps be true to say that the four semi-finalists at the WSOB in London didn’t quite make the best of a lasting job when faced with the TV cameras, Jessie Cantrell’s interrogations, and even their overall ‘look’? Possibly – but this, mind you, is no criticism of them: they were there to win one of the biggest backgammon tournaments in history, not become media stars. And few could fault their play; it was breath-taking, brilliant, dramatic, unpredictable and flawed, all at the same time, a scriptwriter’s dream.

But perhaps now is the time for us players to pull together, and up our ‘media’ games. It’s worth bearing in mind at the Nordic that if you make progress in the tournament, and possibly if you don’t, that there’s a good chance you’ll come face-to-face with a cameraman or a microphone. If you’re a woman, you don’t need to read the next part, since you’re all always beautifully decked out. For the guys, might it be pertinent to say that we might up the ante in how we look? Perhaps leave Granny’s favourite knitted sweater at home this time? Maybe pack a ‘Gillette Mach 3’ razor blade in the sponge bag, instead of that rusty old saw that you have scraped across your face these past 30 years? As for me – I’m noted for my un-ironed shirts – but I shall endeavour to not have a crease in sight!

And then there’s what we say into the ‘mics’. The best sound bite from London was John Hurst’s answer to Jessie directly after the final, when asked how he felt: “Tired.” Pretty funny, but hardly something to hold the back page. And we hit some bum notes as well did we not, with poor Jessie on more than one occasion being made to look like a fish out of water. Losing semi-finalist Kazuhiro Shino’s infamous reply to Jessie’s, “tell us about what happened in that final game,” was: “You saw it.” Ouch, that’s when TV presenters have to earn their wonga, but we don’t pay Jessie enough to dig that deep, and she let him go. Needless to say, no interview footage of Shino talking about his amazing semi-final made it to the screen, and that’s a shame, because it was a roller-coaster match with many talking points. And the media-shy Shino wasn’t alone. Even the normally eloquent Hurst was noticeably tongue-tied in interviews, both pre and post his matches. Who knows why, except that he is the epitome of the reserved, refined English gent, and all this glitz, glamour and bright lights ain’t perhaps his thing.

There are moves afoot to ‘mike-up’ players during matches, which brings us to the subject of talking during matches, something bg players are divided on. A quarter like total silence from start to finish, half are happy with a bit of chat, and a quarter like a near blanket commentary. Let me say this: it’s absolutely fine if you like to play in complete silence, but please remember, backgammon ISN’T poker, where talking barely occurs. All your cards are on the table in bg, you’ve nothing to hide, and the occasional friendly word or observation really isn’t going to alter the course of a match. Easily my three favourite matches in London were with Eric Berg, Walter Busato and Carter Mattig. Three fine players and the chatter was wall-to-wall, much more from them, mind you, than me – a renowned talker. Lest you think incessant chatter could be designed to unsettle an opponent, I whitewashed the first two, and defeated Carter at DMP. But those matches were delightful, friendly experiences, with fascinated interplay and much camaraderie.

Katja Spillum isn’t much of a talker, but she carries herself with such grace and charm, that it doesn’t really matter, there is no animosity there, it is just the way she plays. Occasionally she does speak – like when I shipped a critical 4-cube in our second round at 7-9 down. When agonizing on whether to take or not, Katja observed aloud, “hmmm, 4-3 not too good for you…” “Hey, don’t call my bad numbers!” I joked. “No, no, just trying to work it all out,” she giggled. If we were ‘miked-up’, a parlay such as this would make for interesting viewing.

One of the most illuminating verbal exchanges on camera in recent years came in the famous last-16 match of the Riviera Cup in 2006, when Maria Krancheva and Morton Holm engaged in a fascinating dialogue, when Holm shipped Krancheva an 8-cube at about 97%. A stone cold pass of course, but Krancheva had massive time difficulties.

“I have to take this, I have no time… I have to win so many games… how many games is it if I pass?” she asked to herself.

Holm was happy to help: “if you pass you go 12-5 down, so it’s 12-6, 12-8, 12-10, 12-12, 13-12. Five games.” Very helpful, thanks Morton. Five games in less than 90 seconds, and Krancheva, aided by this all important nudge, duly took, and shook hands for the match a few rolls later. It all made for great TV.

So there it is, another fabulous festival of backgammon is upon us, and make no mistake the world is starting to sit up and take note. For your part, you can help. Try to look relatively suave and striking for the ‘gogglebox’; show an increased willingess to play in a more engaging and communicative spirit than you’re perhaps used to; and think of lots of penetrating and witty insights to give the long-suffering Jessie something to run with. As for your dice, don’t worry, they’ll take care of themselves.

From www.worldseriesofbackgammon.com

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