After its near farcical debut my guess is that the global TV news networks won't be scanning the new 24 hour news channel ANN7 for poachable talent. Say what you will about the SABC during the apartheid years but at least it produced people like Anand Naidoo*, Jane Hicks and Jane Dutton who went on to CNN, the BBC and Al Jazeera respectively. The news may have been controlled by the Nats and PW Botha may have insisted on finger wagging air time whenever he thought he had something interesting to say but at least the propaganda was delivered professionally and audibly.
Not so with ANN7. Regular readers of this column will know I exist in a state of what can best be described as " genteel poverty" and can't afford the full monty bouquet from DSTV. If Mrs B and I go easy on the Tanqueray during the months of May and June and eat only lentils we can usually afford to upgrade to the premium service for the last week of Wimbledon and the Tour de France. But otherwise we are limited to the most basic service which fortunately includes BBC, CNN, Sky (worth the expense just for Sophy Ridge), Al Jazeera and a smattering of other channels, most of them dead boring. Oddly enough we don't qualify for eNews, the new SABC offering and ANN7 so I wasn't able to catch the now notorious opening of what has become known as Gupta TV.
That didn't matter as it happened because all the cringe-worthy bloopers (and there were many) appeared on You Tube and were maliciously reported by fellow SA journos. They have apparently since been removed from You Tube on the grounds of "copyright" but the damage has already been done.
Journos are, on the whole, a pretty nasty species and their obvious glee at the tsunami (always wanted to use this word) of ANN7 disasters was palpable. In fact, I began to feel rather sorry for the poor ANN7 presenters who had obviously been coaxed from waitressing jobs in restaurants by persuasive men with the promise of stardom. The fact that nobody behind the cameras had any more of a clue than those in front of them soon became apparent. But even my milk of human kindness ran dry when I heard Grand Prix pronounced Grand Pricks.
Having performed live on many occasions I am well aware of the terrible panic that can overwhelm one when the microphone doesn't work or the Powerpoint slides appear in the wrong order. The point is that you are supposed to be trained to make light of these things.
So if you can't read the tele-prompter then get out from behind your desk and deliver the news from a position where you can see the damn thing. And the last thing you do is start burbling inanely like the two chicks on the sports show. Just tell the viewers that you have a technical problem and you're going to chat about who you think is the sexiest footballer alive until things come right. That way you keep the audience on your side. Well maybe not on your side but at least you might garner a modicum of sympathy.