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Vuvuzela! The Drone of the Blatt-o-Phone

Football, like other forms of crowd theatre, is a collective experience. The performance partly relies on the reactions of the crowd to create the drama. By smothering them, the monotone Blatt-o-Phone drone smothers the drama.
During the last Six Nations rugby on BBC, I tried out the red-button audio options for the first time. The choice was between the standard TV broadcast commentary, two different radio commentaries, and nothing but pure stadium noise plus the referee. Without the commentary what I quickly remembered after many years of being priced out of a ticket for international matches, was the almost sexual character of the responses of the crowd to the twists and turns of the spectacle. And it also became clear that the oohs and aahs weren't just triumphalism at gaining advantage or relief at denying it to the opposition, but sheer spontaneous admiration for the skills and prowess on display. Anyone who's been to a live event of this size will understand the rhythm of a crowd being entertained till it hurts.
Drowning out that essential feedback to the play is almost an act of sabotage. It's certainly a ridiculous dampening of the experience. Like being the only member of an audience at an opera. Or like being inflicted with a chronic inner-ear problem.
The Music of the Stadium

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