do my reports. To be honest I love going to all the grounds. I’ve always said that you should never judge a book by its cover. In a football match you don’t really know what’s going to happen. I could be freezing my nuts off in front of Bolton versus Wolves, but then you might get a wonder goal out of the blue that could change the whole complexion of the game and indeed unfreeze my nuts. Stoke versus Wigan could be 5–0, but unpredictability is the beauty of football.
There’s no class distinction either, because you’re just as likely to get a flat game at Old Trafford or Stamford Bridge as you are at Goodison Park or the Stadium of Light. When it comes to choosing the games, I try to share it around as best I can. People also moan on about how often I go to the grounds of other teams. They say, ‘You never come to the Emirates, you must hate Arsenal,’ or ‘What’s your bloody problem with Liverpool? You’re never there.’ In truth, it all comes down to geography. I have to think about how easy it will be for me to get back to London that night to present Goals on Sunday the next day. Some grounds are harder than others – Hull is tricky to get back to London from; getting in and out of Birmingham is always a headache. Until I have a massive win at the Grand National, my private plane – Air Kammy – will remain grounded.
On Saturday mornings I’m up and running from the moment I awake, often with a sore head after a night out with Jeff Stelling and the gang in the hotel bar. The boys – Jeff plus Charlie Nicholas, Phil Thompson and sometimes Matt Le Tissier – always meet up on Friday for a drink. It’s a great night out and an essential part of the show. Jeff will usually hold court over several pints of Hoegaarden (I hear he’s angling for a sponsorship deal), while I’ll go to the steam room with Charlie Nicholas for a gossip. After that we’ll go for a drink, usually into the early hours.
This might sound like a jolly boys’ outing to most of you, but the truth is, the hotel bar plays an important role in the success of Soccer Saturday. What we talk about that night usually sets the tone of the show the next day. Jeff will go through all the hot football topics that week and gauge everybody’s opinions. He’ll also pick up rumours and news of what’s been going on in the game from us, the stuff the papers might not have reported. I’m still involved on a day-to-day basis with players, agents and managers, as are Thommo and Charlie, so we can pass on plenty of info to Jeff. He would never categorically come out and reveal the gossip we have passed on, but he might float an idea or an opinion as a result of that confidence.
Different presenters have different methods of preparation. Jeff, for example, drives to a motorway service station in Winchester with a bag full of newspaper cuttings, magazines and an info pack from Sky on all the players, goals and stats. He’ll memorise as much as he can. For me it’s Sky Sports News from the moment I am awake. If I’m covering Stoke against Liverpool at the Britannia Stadium my preparation would be to watch the games of both teams from the previous weekend. I’ll take a look at the teams and if there are any new faces in the side, I’ll ring around and find out a bit more about them. If there’s nothing new, then my work is done. I’m not there to deliver stats and facts on the teams, that’s down to Jeff.
When Jeff comes to me on air, he wants to hear what’s going on in the game, as do the viewers. They want the goals, the drama, the blunders and the controversy. It’s no good me yelling, ‘Unbelievable, Jeff! This is Everton’s sixth win in 10 games! Tim Cahill has just delivered his eighth assist of the season!’ The hard stats are Jeff’s party piece and he works tirelessly on getting them right all week. I’m not going to tell anyone how to do their job, but some Soccer Saturday reporters try to cram their broadcasts with facts and trivia. That’s wrong. You have to tell the studio what you’re seeing, how both teams are playing and who has scored the goals or who has been booked, rightly or wrongly. In other words: ‘Unbelievable, Jeff! Louis Saha couldn’t hit a barn door with a banjo! Phil Jagielka is as useful as a fish up a tree today! Marouane Fellaini hasn’t trimmed his beautiful haircut for nine weeks! One–nil!’ I wouldn’t dream of telling the viewers that I had the same hairstyle as Fellani when I was a player. The referees used to blow on my head like a dandelion to check the 90 minutes was up but I’d rather keep that a secret – whoops!
In the words of Roy Walker in Catchphrase, ‘Just say what you see.’
From mid-morning, Kamaracam is up and running. I usually get to the ground as early as I can so I can catch up with the team news and have a chat with a few people at the ground, just to get some extra background on the game and what’s going on at the club. At around 2.30, climbing into the commentary gantry can sometimes be an uncomfortable business. I remember our position at Portsmouth used to be particularly dangerous, until they eventually moved us. Nobody ever actually got injured, but that was a miracle really.
Once the game gets under way, Carly Bassett will communicate with me. She can see me on camera in the studio, but I can only hear her. The production guys also watch all the games, so as soon as someone scores in my game or an incident of note takes place, they can cut to me shortly after.
As the game progresses, Carly will tell me when I’m due to go live. ‘We’ve got three waiting to come in and you’re next.’ It’s a bit like air-traffic control at Heathrow, but without all the drunk pilots and near misses, though some people would argue that we suffer a lot of those as well. It can be a frustrating business. Sometimes there might be a penalty decision or goal and the studio can’t get to me until minutes later. Other times they want me to give a report even though absolutely nothing has happened at all. That’s when I have to say, ‘Boring game, nothing has happened here.’
Sometimes, though, the action goes on behind me without me even knowing. The most famous instance of this – and I say famous because everyone who missed it on Soccer Saturday could watch it on the internet, and plenty have ! – happened when I was commentating on Fulham against Middlesbrough at Craven Cottage. My monitor shows all the action so I can see in detail what’s happening on the pitch when I have to turn my back on it to deliver my report. At one point that day the monitor decided to pack up. Typically this was the moment Fulham chose to score, as you can see from the action replay:
JEFF: ‘Is there any way back for Fulham against Middlesbrough, I wonder? Chris Kamara…’
KAMMY: ‘Well they’re trying, Jeff. Papa Bouba Diop, the man mountain himself, is playing as a striker and he’s got [David] Healy on one side of him and Diamansi Kamara on the other side and … it’s Papa Bouba Diop with a header! AAAAGH! AH! It’s a goal! It’s a goal, Jeff! Is it David Healy? He’s running away… Andy D’Urso’s playing on… Sorry, my monitor’s down again! [Turning around frantically] I’m looking over my shoulder… What? I don’t really know … the assistant… Has he given it? [Complete panic flashes across my face] Oh, the assistant hasn’t given it, I don’t think, Jeff. No! The referee hasn’t given it either… Don’t really know what’s happening, Jeff. Ha, ha! [cue: laughter from the studio panel] Could be, could be not… Ha, ha, ha!’
JEFF: ‘I tell you what, Kammy, it’s not the first time you’ve not known what’s happening, but I can tell you, well, the ball went in from close range, Schwarzer got both hands to it, it’s over the line! There’s no question the ball is over the line, but the referee has not given it. And Fulham, well, 2–1 behind, Middlesbrough still lead, but that ball was a foot and a half over the line before Schwarzer managed to scramble it clear. They’re still playing and there’s going to be real controversy over that one.’
These little disasters have made the show an unbelievable success. Soccer Saturday has definitely revolutionised football coverage – other TV channels have tried to copy it, but they’re still nowhere near as good as we are. It’s also made a name for all the lads working on the show. Most of them had much greater success and fame during their playing careers than I did, and yet today my popularity as part of the Sky gang never fails to amaze me.