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Telegraph
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Every sport fan thinks they could be a commentator, so I gave it a go
'Okay commentators… one minute until commentary… 'Commentators - 30 seconds until start of commentary - stand by… 'Cue count into the start of commentary in…10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5 until the cue…4, 3, 2, 1…cue commentary.' And with those words ringing in my ears at Ashton Gate – and after a brief moment where I thought I might have been in too deep – I pressed the microphone to my mouth, and my first experience of live commentary began. It is worth clarifying two points at this juncture. Although I was commentating live on Bristol's victory over Harlequins last Saturday, in conjunction with TNT Sports, the audio was not available to the public; so everyone was spared my mumblings and mutterings during the instances when getting words out might have been easier said than done (more on that to come). Nor am I set to appear on TNT Sports's broadcasts any time soon – you're stuck with me at Telegraph Sport for the foreseeable! Every fan across every sport has always questioned the difficulty of matchday commentary; a dream job for so many. So, the aim of this project was to find out just how tricky and demanding the art of commentary truly is by having an authentic experience in the role at a live fixture. This all began earlier in the season when a senior executive at TNT Sports was explaining just how hard commentary and punditry really is. He was singing the praises of the likes of Austin Healey, Ben Kay and – more recently – Chris Ashton and Sam Warburton for how smoothly that troupe had turned their hands to punditry after hanging up their playing boots. There was only one way to verify this. And, over a two-hour period commentating at Ashton Gate, I can confirm it really is incredibly difficult. The timing is militaristic, the language is incomprehensible to the untrained ear (me), and the assault on the senses is ferocious. While commentating last Saturday, with the match unfolding in front of me, I had nine voices in my ears, through the same pair of headphones: the television director, the producer, the PA (production assistant), the referee, TNT's actual pundits, my own voice, and the sounds of the crowd around the stadium. It was like listening to a nine-part vocal harmony, all out of sync and, crucially, not in harmony, while also trying to offer clean and crisp commentary of my own. Thankfully, I had been well prepped and briefed by the avuncular Ali Eykyn and the wider TNT team. I had done my pre-match prep, had been sent all of the broadcaster's preview material – detailing every stat under the sun, from the amount of caps a certain player has won almost to what car they drive and what they ate for breakfast – and I was ready to masquerade as a commentator for the day. My notes were ready, but sadly I was unable to mirror the colour-coded fastidiousness of Eykyn's colleague, Nick Mullins.'I hope it goes well, mate,' Eykyn said just before the match kicked off. 'Just not too well!,' he added, jokingly. The last-minute advice from both him and the BBC's rugby correspondent, Chris Jones, was invaluable. How it went, Telegraph Sport readers can be the judge. But one final plea, given it was my first ever live broadcast, with no dress rehearsal: please, go easy on me. Charles's introduction After all the build-up, being talked through my own miniature sound system to adjust the levels of all the different voices as well as making sure that my set-up was in order, the PA's countdown began. I had a television screen with live footage to my right, my notes in front of me, my iPad giving me live stats as well as the scores from elsewhere on the Premiership's final day – an added, unique complication – as well as some notes from my chat with Eykyn. On that notepad read bits of advice like 'talk to the pictures' and 'the voices in your head will be complicated'. I had listened to the director and the PA exchange phrases like 'is that 45 you're changing?', 'same again please but the bat cam' and 'cameras Mata and Randall we will back up' and now it was time for me to speak. After a nervy start, with voice wobbling, I got into a sort of rhythm, but you can see in the below clip that I forgot one of Eykyn's golden rules: talk to the pictures. When the Bristol starting XV flashes up, I am still banging on blindly about Bristanbul. For full disclosure, I do still manage to fit in a run-through of the Bears' line-up, but it is horribly rushed, with me giving my best impression of an auctioneer. Bristol open scoring This try came at the end of a set of Bristol phases where, until George Kloska had barged over, Harlequins did well to stifle the Bears' momentum and slow them down. All of my energy and flow for the Bristol attack had been used up earlier in the move, with one of those dashing first-phase plays which the Bears love so much. Thankfully, by the time Kloska drives over, I remember I need to sound excited again. There is a real ebb and flow to commentary; it can go from a high to a low very swiftly. Murley scores wonder try This was the clip I was most concerned about re-watching. That is because I realised that, when you are commentating on something of this ilk – a wonder score – in the moment, you never think or realise that the conclusion of the play might end up being a try of the season contender, with the footage replayed over and over again. And there is no chance of re-recording it. You only get one shot. So, before re-watching and listening, I just hoped I had done Cadan Murley justice. I think I just about did, even if there was a little bit of hesitation in my voice as I tripped over a word when Murley rounded the last Bristol defender. And the delivery of 'out of nothing' sounds like an Alan Partridge impersonation, which was not too encouraging. For reference, here is how the real thing sounded... Scorch marks, EVERYWHERE 💨 Harlequins aren't done yet as Cadan Murley produces one of the finishes of the season 🃏 #GallagherPrem | #BRIvHAR — Rugby on TNT Sports (@rugbyontnt) May 31, 2025 Bristol score again If my voice went higher than this in the whole game, then I'd like to hear it. One contender might have been when Quins broke from the restart in the second half to continue a spirited if temporary fightback, when it looked as though the visitors might blow the play-off race wide open, but this was certainly up there in terms of drama, after a sweeping Bristol attack had taken the Bears to within metres of the Quins line. Then, inexplicably, when Bristol actually score, I decide that that is the time for nonchalance. Admittedly, it was a walk-in for Gabriel Ibitoye, but come on, Charles, where is the excitement? This was also the try that launched Ibitoye back into the reckoning for the Premiership's top try-scorer, too, which I simply just... forgot to mention at any point. Sorry, Gabriel. Mixing up 'minutes' and 'metres' is a real blot on the copybook, too. Schoolboy. Bristol kill the game Well, I am pleased that I managed to correctly identify James Williams in this score but unfortunately that came after spending most of the first half getting mixed up between him and Noah Heward (of course, I know the difference between the two, but from a distance, with just one crack at it, with no replays, there was sometimes guesswork at play). I also apologise to Harlequins fans for totally writing them off at this stage – that was just sporting instinct. That try felt as though it was the end of a Bristanbul part-two dream, but if the visitors had come back there would have been a significant amount of egg on my face. Play-off line-up confirmed Eykyn's advice is prescient once again. Max Lahiff looks delighted, Pat Lam hugged his assistant coaches, Bristol fans clap their side off after semi-final rugby is secured – and I mention none of it. I didn't even mention The Wurzels! I also said 'south west' twice but the second time was supposed to be 'west country' but the phrase just escaped me entirely at that moment. At least I got the Bears' play-off opponents correct, however. What I learnt... Reflecting on my afternoon at Ashton Gate, the experience undoubtedly opened my eyes to the complex and arcane art of commentary, giving me a newfound appreciation of the mental and verbal juggling. While I was commentating on live action, the PA would be informing both myself and Ali that there is a replacement on the way, giving the numbers of the departing and arriving players. Then, seconds later, the director would say that Austin needed to talk through a try at Exeter, who were hosting play-off-hunting Sale that day, before coming back to Ben to talk through a maul intricacy at Ashton Gate. Then the referee will be having an interesting chat with Harry Randall about the cleanliness of the ball he is receiving at the ruck, and you'd have to both identify that and, crucially, shut up. There is an awful lot going on, but the experience was exhilarating (and equally as mentally fatiguing). I might not be the next John Motson or Barry Davies, but my afternoon with the mic will stay with me for many years to come.
Motor Trend
23-05-2025
- Automotive
- Motor Trend
The Frontline MGA is the World's Coolest, Fastest, Most Fun—and Expensive—Miata
The original MG (not today's Chinese-backed version) may have been a British brand, but America made it. Thousands of service members returning from Europe after the end of World War II in 1945 brought with them an abiding affection for the light and fun-to-drive MG sports cars they'd seen on British roads. And when broken, bankrupted Britain switched back to making cars and trucks instead of fighter planes and tanks, MG, encouraged by a government desperate for export revenues, found a ready market stateside for its perky little TC roadster. 0:00 / 0:00 The TC and its successors, the TD and TF, were vintage 1930s-style cars, body-on-frame with a leaf-spring live rear axle and, until the TD was launched in 1950, a live front axle. They sold well, but by 1955 the MG TF was looking decidedly old-fashioned alongside rival sports cars such as the Austin-Healey 100 and Triumph TR2. Enter the MGA. The low-slung MGA was still a body-on-frame car with a leaf-spring live rear axle—and a wooden floor!—but it looked modern, with streamlined, faired-in bodywork styled by MG's chief designer Syd Enever that was inspired by the rebodied TD roadster he had developed in 1951 for the Le Mans 24 Hour race. America fell in love with the MGA. Of the 101,000 cars that rolled off the MG assembly line in Abingdon, England, between late 1955 and July 1962, more than 81,000 were shipped to the U.S. (The Brits bought fewer than 5,900 MGAs over the same period.) Affordable and easily tuned, the MGA proved popular on the track, too, becoming a mainstay in SCCA racing during the '50s and early '60s. The MGA was replaced in 1962 by the MGB, the company's first unibody sports car. And the love affair continued. More than half a million were built, with more than 300,000 sold in the U.S. through 1980, when British Leyland execs stupidly ordered the MGB be discontinued in a bid to boost slow sales of the newer Triumph TR7. Without a car to sell in the market that had so long sustained it, the MG marque abruptly vanished from the U.S., never to return. But the love affair still lingers. For some years now British MG restomod and restoration specialist Frontline Cars has been doing good business in the U.S. with reworked MGBs such the four-cylinder MGB LE50 and the recently launched LE60, which is powered by a Frontline-tweaked V-8 that punches out 375 hp and will take it to 160 mph. Now it's adding a delectable MGA to its restomod lineup. 'The MGA was the natural next step for us,' said Tim Fenna, founder and chief engineer of Frontline Cars. 'It's an icon of British motoring, but one that was always crying out for more performance and refinement.' Established, High-End British Restomod Formula The Frontline MGA follows the formula established with the company's long line of MGB restomods, combining a modern powertrain, plus suspension and chassis mods designed by Fenna, with subtly reworked sheetmetal and upscale interior hardware to create a sports car that combines classic style with everyday drivability. Frontline will find a suitable MGA donor car for you, or you can supply one yourself, be it left- or right-hand drive, roadster or coupe. The donor car is stripped back to bare metal and boxes of parts. The chassis is strengthened and fitted with a redesigned front suspension that features Nitron telescopic shocks and fabricated upper links in place of the vintage lever-arm shocks that were standard on the original MGA. The original MGA leaf-sprung banjo rear axle is junked in favor of a late-model MGB unit that's been modified to accommodate coil springs and Nitron shocks and is located by upper and lower trailing links each side, and a Panhard rod. Other chassis upgrades, using hardware and know-how from Frontline's long experience with MGB restomods, include the fitment of disc brakes all round, the front rotors vented and clamped by four-piston calipers, and electronic rack-and-pinion steering. Customers can choose between traditional-style 15-inch wire wheels or ultra-cool 15-inch Dunlop alloys that look like the wheels fitted to Jaguar's D-Type and Lightweight E-Type racers during the 1950s and '60s. Standard tires are 185/65 Bridgestone Turanzas. The MG powertrain is replaced by a naturally aspirated Mazda four-cylinder engine and five-speed manual transmission. Two specifications are available: a 2.0-liter that develops 225 hp at 7,200 rpm and 178 lb-ft of torque at 4,500 rpm, and a 2.5-liter unit that develops 290 hp at 7,100 rpm and 243 lb-ft at 4,200 rpm. Each engine features a bespoke individual throttle body induction system, revised camshaft profiles, a new ECU, and a tuned stainless steel exhaust system. The 2.5-liter engine's balance shaft has been removed to reduce frictional losses and improve throttle response. For context, the original MGA was powered by a 68-hp 1.5-liter engine, and even the temperamental and short-lived 1.6-liter twin-cam engine introduced in 1958 still made only 108 hp. All the mechanical hardware is topped with a body that retains its stock dimensions but has been carefully reworked to improve its structural rigidity, primarily by way of the addition of a steel floor that now tightly ties together the bodysides. Detail changes include the removal of the front turn signals—they are now located within the modern LED headlight units—and the deletion of the octagonal MG badge from the trunk. Look closely, and you'll also see discreet Frontline badging near the vents either side of the narrow hood, but otherwise the Frontline MGA looks just like a beautifully restored original car. A quick look in the sumptuously trimmed cockpit—customers can choose between leather or Alcantara, the trim work all done in-house at Frontline—hints at the truth. The dash features Frontline-branded Smiths dials, and there's an audio system with two speakers, two tweeters, an amplifier, and a Bluetooth module all controlled by a discreetly hidden head unit. Options include heated versions of Frontline's own-design bucket seats, as well as air conditioning. One-touch electric windows are available on the coupé. Meshing Old- and New-School Driving Our tester, the first Frontline MGA built, was fitted with the 2.0-liter engine and a relatively tall 3.07 diff rather than the 3.4 or 3.7 gears typically used in the Frontline MGBs because the owner wanted the car to feel relaxed while cruising. And relaxed it is: At 50 mph in fifth gear, the little Mazda four-banger, which will rev enthusiastically to 7,750 rpm, is turning just 2,000 rpm. It sounds crisp and gurgly when you take it through the gears, a digitally remastered version of an old-school British performance four-cylinder engine. And though the Mazda four has much more top-end bite than any of those old British motors, it has a similarly solid swathe of midrange torque you can exploit with the transmission's tightly packed ratios. The modern powertrain weighs 132 pounds less than the vintage MG hardware, which not only takes weight off the front axle, but also means the Frontline MGA tips the scales at under 2,000 pounds. So, despite its tall diff ratio, our tester felt marvelously alive on British B-roads, easily scooting to 80 or 90 mph between the corners. The ride is tightly controlled, but it's not harsh, thanks to the deft manner with which the Nitron shocks deal with sharp inputs and the absorptive quality of those generously sidewalled tires. The EPS assists up to about 30 mph, then drops away. Feel and feedback through the steering wheel rim is terrific. You can have manual steering if you want. But don't bother. It'll only make you work harder at low speeds. Like all old-school rear-drive sports cars, the Frontline MGA likes to be braked in a straight line, then turned into a late apex as you get on the throttle. Get too ambitious with your right foot, though, and the abundant traction from the standard Quaife limited-slip differential will push the nose wide. Brake feel is very good, and the well-placed pedals, combined with the beautifully crisp throttle response and the short throws of the transmission, make heel-toe downshifts a breeze. Throwback Look, Modern, Miata-Like Feel What stands out, however, is how taut and tight the Frontline MGA feels. There's no scuttle shake—none—and no vibration back through the steering. Suspension noise and impact harshness are extremely well suppressed. Although it's very light and has a live rear axle, the car feels astonishingly planted and composed, even on indifferent roads. Make no mistake, the Frontline MGA is a truly stunning piece of work; there are modern sports cars that don't feel as coherent to drive as this MG. Ironically, given its powertrain, the nearest modern car we can compare it with for sheer fun and driver involvement is the Mazda MX-5 Miata roadster, a car that's 1.9 inches shorter than the Frontline MGA, with a 3.1-inch-shorter wheelbase, but fully 10 inches wider and almost 400 pounds heavier. The Miata comparison provides extra useful context, too: The little Mazda delivers its thrills with just 181 hp under the hood, and after our drive of the 225-hp 2.0-liter Frontline MGA, we're not sure the 290-hp 2.5-liter engine is worth the extra money. The math is compelling. Frontline says the 2.0-liter car takes just 4.8 seconds to sprint to 60 mph (the MX-5 Miata takes 5.6 seconds). According to Frontline's own numbers, that makes it just seven-tenths of a second slower than the 2.5-liter version, and both models have a top speed of 155 mph. So there's not much of a performance advantage, and we suspect the bigger engine's extra power and torque could make the Frontline MGA, which has neither traction control nor ABS, a bit of a handful, especially on a wet road. The 2.0-liter model feels the sweet-spot car. Frontline MGA prices start at the equivalent of about $170,000 (on current exchange rates) plus taxes and shipping and the cost of a donor car. No, it's nowhere near as affordable as the original. But the Frontline MGA, sharper and quicker, tauter and tighter, better built and more highly equipped than any MGA that ever left the factory in Abingdon, England, is a bespoke sports car, and not just in terms of color and trim. Frontline will work with customers on mechanical hardware like diff ratios and suspension tune and steering to create exactly the MGA they want. The Frontline MGA is a truly outstanding restomod, easily one of the best we've ever driven. It has modern manners that allow it to be used every day, but it remains joyously analog, a pure driver's car that's thoroughly engaging at real-world speeds on real-world roads. Think of it this way: What Singer is to Porsche, Frontline is to MG. It's expensive, but it's worth the money.
Yahoo
17-03-2025
- Automotive
- Yahoo
These Guys Drove a Real 1927 Bugatti—and More—over the Alps in Winter!
What used to be just one race a year—the revival of the Mille Miglia in Italy—has grown into a number of very fun events all over the world, from Mille Miglia tributes in China, Japan, the UAE, and even Florida, to the Coppa delle Alpi, a re-creation of a winter race over the Alps that started in 1921. This year, on March 13 in the city of Brescia (traditional start of the Mille Miglia), 40 cars took the green flag and headed north into the ice and snow of the frozen Alps. The entries included: four Porsche 356s, two Aston Martin DB4s (and a DB2), period-correct entries from Jaguar, Triumph, and Austin Healey, three Ferraris (two from the 1980s and a 348 from 1991), as well as a couple of Fiat 508 Cs. The goal on the morning of the first day was lunch in the ski resort town of Tirano (it's a civilized event, after all), followed by a charge over the Swiss border to St. Moritz, which had only weeks before hosted the GP I.C.E. Race. Next day was back into Italy, then over the Fuorn Pass to Austria and on to the Tyrolean town of Brixen. Saturday, March 15, may have been the best leg as the cavalcade of classic cars crisscrossed the spectacular Dolomites, topping the Sella Pass then threading the Fassa and the Fiemme valleys. The cars reached the beautiful Lake Serraia and then went on to Baselga di Piné, where the last lunch of the race was hosted. After reaching Trento back in Italy, the race ended with the award ceremony in Ponte di Legno on top of the final pass of the run: Tonale. No doubt named after the Alfa Romeo (or vice versa). We give you the detailed route in case you want to fly to Italy and rent a car for a week, which we would definitely recommend. While 40 cars started this year, the fifth running of this commemorative race, the Coppa will accommodate twice that. 'A maximum of 80 cars built up to 1990 will be accepted to the race, which will compete to win one of the 7 guarantees of acceptance to the 1000 Miglia 2026 up for grabs,' read the google-translated statement from event organizers. So you could potentially qualify for the Mille Miglia, the grandaddy of all great races. Plan now for next year. The tour enters Livigno, Italy, just a crankshaft's throw from rain, nor snow, nor dark of night...
