The weather hasn't been especially summery, but genuine radio highlights have already become harder to find among the thickening weeds of summer schedules. Of course, radio-summer in Ireland isn't officially ushered in until Gay Byrne signs off for the holidays. He duly did so on last Friday's Gay Byrne Show with more than the usual level of nostalgic poignancy - we even got Vera Lynn singing We'll Meet Again.
But there's no need for tears. The inevitable calming of the media waves is upon us, but at RTE lately there seems to be a growing realisation that if people are going to have to spend June, July and August sheltered from the rain, there might as well be something substantial on the radio. Personally, I'd be happy enough to hear Emer Woodfull hosting Radio 1's mid-morning programme right into September - and, sure, why stop in September? Her interview last week with journalist John Pilger on Today with Emer Woodfull (Monday to Friday) displayed her deep, unshowy intelligence; yes, its interest would have been considerably higher for would-be radical or campaigning reporters than for the general public, but the mere thought of Pat Kenny doing the interview makes that sound like a reasonable 20minute trade-off.
Pilger got his say and the deference due to such an accomplished colleague. Listeners would have formed an essentially good impression of him - and, importantly, his new book - but they could not have missed a hint of priggishness in his inability to deal with Woodfull's pertinent observations about the pressures on journalists in most media organisations. His call on young reporters to resist such pressure with courage etc made a good sermon but a dodgy survival strategy if your name isn't John Pilger.
Woodfull's questions were an invitation to a meatier analysis of how and why media priorities are formed. Pilger seemed to think that would sound like making excuses for shoddy, consensus-hugging hackery; instead he offered unsupportable, idealistic definitions of "real journalism".
Which isn't to say he was wrong. When Pilger cited Tom Hyland of the East Timor campaign as a nonjournalist doing what journalists ought to be doing, the ring of truth was deafening. A recent Hyland spot on Morning Ireland (RTE Radio 1, Monday to Friday), explaining the shifts in the Indonesian regime, was a crystal-clear piece of trouble-spot explication.
Why do journalists talking about such places rarely sound so informed, sophisticated and articulate? Because, for many reasons - some of them good - they are generally spoofing. Last week the assembled panel on Late Night Live (BBC Radio 5 Live) stumbled around the British arms to Sierra Leone mini-scandal until assured by host Nick Robinson that it was "really a Westminster story"; this spared us any further pretending about Africa and delivered pointless chatter about familiar pols.
And this while all the football-related ads on the telly reassure us that we're One World (when it comes to soft drinks and sweets). Between the ads the real parochialism is all too evident, such as when as good an analyst as John Giles asserts that the Norwegians are better players than the Moroccans - could this be because the former are mostly journeymen in England while the latter play mainly in Spain, France and Portugal? On Sunday Supplement (Today FM) Giles got his chance to use the word "natural" a half-dozen times to describe Nigerian talents.
(Mind you, Giles is a cosmopolitan compared to the Sunday morning host on 5 Live who, after a report about petty crime in Marseille, asked if England fans' Saturday-night riots might have been caused by anger at pickpockets.)
Still, what a World Cup, eh? The large it's-not-the-same-without-Ireland brigade even had Colm Keane's In Profile documentary (RTE Radio 1, Thursday), which - under the cover of profiling Kevin Sheedy - included the standard highlights of Italia '90 (and even a bit of USA '94, when Sheedy wasn't in the squad!).
Sheedy was the sort of footballer I want my daughter to be when she breaks the sex bar in EuroLeague soccer playing for the Dublin Dons. Why? His gifts: delicacy of touch, vision, balance, grace and that "cultured left foot", rather than pace or brute strength. In interview he seems a lovely fella, too; sure, his crutch-word is "obviously", but then so is mine. However, Colm Keane's jockumentary lacked the tragic arc so often drawn by his pop-star profiles; a footballer's decline, after all, is natural, its causes usually so obvious as to not need stating.
Still, there were missed opportunities for sharper content. Sheedy played perhaps his best game for Ireland in Euro '88, carving up the Soviet Union from the centre of midfield; it got no mention here, so no chance to ask how he felt about never again getting that role. As for Italia '90, there was the memorable goal against England, but what about that distinctly un-Jack short pass to John Aldridge that led indirectly to Italy's goal in Rome? Keane politely started the taped commentary of the goal's build-up just after the pass, but did Jack Charlton ensure Sheedy would never forget it?
