Johan Croneman’s sporting psyche, as revealed in his column, revolves around a complex relationship with televised sports. While he considers himself a die-hard sports fan, his engagement with various sports hinges on several factors, chief among them being Swedish participation. Football, for instance, retains his viewership regardless of Sweden’s qualification status, demonstrating a genuine love for the sport itself. This applies increasingly to women’s football as well, though Swedish involvement still holds a slight edge in capturing his attention. Similarly, early exits in major football tournaments don’t deter his viewing, showcasing an unwavering commitment to following the competition. However, his loyalty drastically shifts with handball. The absence of a Swedish team renders the sport almost instantly unwatchable, highlighting a nationalistic element in his viewership preferences. While he admits to possibly enduring a handball final in the direst of boredom, his general disinterest without Swedish representation is clear.
Croneman’s sporting apathy extends beyond handball, encompassing hockey and winter sports. He finds the commercialization of hockey, particularly the IIHF World Championship, excessively exploitative, thus requiring extraordinary circumstances to pique his interest. A return of iconic players like Forsberg and Sundin, coupled with some other remarkable element, would be necessary to recapture his attention. Winter sports, with their limited global competitiveness and dominance by a few small nations, also fail to enthrall him. He acknowledges the prevalence of winter sports in Swedish culture, comparing its steadfast viewership, even without Swedish success, to the popularity of ”Kubb” and ”crocket”. This comparison ironically underscores the perceived lack of global appeal in winter sports, even likening André Pops, the face of winter sports broadcasting in Sweden, to a popular Swedish singer, suggesting a reliance on personality over sporting merit to maintain viewership.
Croneman’s criticism of winter sports broadcasting goes beyond the narrow field of competitors. He also questions the ubiquity of André Pops, the host of SVT’s Vinterstudion. While acknowledging Pops’ talent and enjoyment of his work in other programs like “Kriminalarkivet”, Croneman laments the overexposure Pops has received in winter sports coverage, suggesting it has diluted his brand. Croneman connects this overexposure to SVT’s programming practices, implying a lack of diversity in their broadcasting talent pool. This overreliance on Pops further contributes to Croneman’s disengagement with winter sports, reinforcing his perception of the sport’s decline and the network’s reliance on personality over substance. He humorously suggests that the devotion to winter sports viewership in Sweden, even in the absence of Swedish success, is akin to the popularity of traditional lawn games like ”Kubb” and ”crocket”, further highlighting its perceived limited international appeal.
This theme of overexposure and the erosion of genuine insight extends to Croneman’s critique of football pundit Bojan Djordjic. While Croneman emphasizes his reluctance to cause Djordjic any harm, he questions his role and contribution to football analysis. He criticizes Djordjic’s reliance on clichés and tired football jargon, comparing it to the everyday conversations between casual football fans. Croneman argues that expert analysis should offer unique perspectives and insightful observations, rather than simply regurgitating common football tropes. He yearns for genuine expertise and deeper understanding from commentators, instead of the predictable and uninformative commentary he perceives Djordjic providing. This critique highlights Croneman’s desire for substance over style, prioritizing insightful analysis that enhances his understanding of the game over superficial commentary that merely echoes commonly held beliefs.
Croneman’s frustration with Djordjic’s commentary style is palpable. He questions how Djordjic became ”chef i floskelfabriken” (chief of the cliché factory) and wonders what value he adds to the broadcast. He draws a parallel between Djordjic’s commentary and the cliché-ridden conversations he has with his friends, emphasizing the lack of originality and depth in Djordjic’s analysis. Croneman stresses that he watches Champions League football to gain new insights and perspectives, not to hear recycled clichés that he could glean from any casual football fan. This dissatisfaction underscores his desire for expert analysis that elevates his understanding of the game, rather than simply confirming what he already knows.
In conclusion, Croneman’s sporting viewership is driven by a combination of nationalistic pride, a yearning for genuine expertise, and a distaste for over-commercialization and cliché-ridden commentary. While his commitment to football remains steadfast, his engagement with other sports is conditional, depending largely on Swedish participation and the quality of analysis provided. He values insightful commentary that offers fresh perspectives and deepens his understanding of the game, and he criticizes the prevalence of clichés and the overexposure of certain personalities in sports broadcasting, highlighting his desire for substance over style and his frustration with the perceived decline in the quality of sports analysis. He uses humor and irony to express his dissatisfaction, comparing the unwavering viewership of winter sports, even in the absence of Swedish success, to the popularity of niche lawn games, and labeling Djordjic the ”chief of the cliché factory”. These comparisons serve to emphasize his point and highlight the disconnect between his expectations and the current state of sports broadcasting.
