They are the John Madden and Pat Summerall of cycling, the Jack Buck and Harry Carey of the peloton. If Paul Sherwen and Phil Liggett weren’t broadcasting a niche sport, “a little spot of bother” would be part of the English-language lexicon.
Sherwen and Liggett, a term so well-known in cycling the Eng-lishmen are often confused, don’t mind. In their corner of the sporting world, they are the faces of cycling.
One time Liggett left his home in the beautiful bush land of South Africa, not far from the Mozambique border, and went to a mall in the nearby township of Phalaborwa. A girl stopped him.
She said, “What are you doing in Phalaborwa?”
Let’s see John Madden top that.
It’s no wonder, considering the fanaticism of true cycling fans. Liggett has covered 39 Tours de France. Sherwen has covered 26 and raced in seven more.
The coverage of the Tour of California earlier this summer went out to 216 countries. The broadcasters will also be the voice of Colorado’s inaugural USA Pro Cycling Challenge, which begins its seven-day run Monday, when it airs live on Versus. The Pro Challenge will be seen in more than 100 countries, give or take a former Soviet republic or two.
Sherwen and Liggett have so much in common, starting with geography. Oddly, they both have homes in Africa and come from the same part of northwest England where a quick sense of humor is as recognizable as the Liverpool accent.
“Sometimes we have to slow it down for the Americans because they can’t keep up,” Sherwen said.
That may be the source of Liggett’s catch phrases, which “Spokeheads” have tabbed “Liggettisms.” Viewers swear that if a cyclist careened off course and into the mouth of a 200-foot fire-breathing dragon, Liggett would deadpan, “Ahnd he haws a little spot of bothah.”
Or when in 2001 as Lance Armstrong cruised past race leader Jan Ullrich on L’Alpe d’Huez and Armstrong stared with steel eyes seemingly into Ullrich’s soul as he flew up the mountain. From that moment, Liggett made “The Look” common use in cycling viewing.
“People think I’m sitting at home writing them all down trying to work them into the show,” Liggett said. “I haven’t a clue. I look at a picture and that’s what shoots out of my brain.”
No rest for the weary
Watch a Sherwen and Liggett broadcast and the race will seem tighter, the flowers brighter, the mountains steeper. The sport’s reputation has suffered more flats than any other, yet Sherwen and Liggett continually remind a cynical world of its grace and passion.
“I like the beauty of the countryside,” Sherwen said. “Whether it’s Australia, whether it’s the Chateau du Loire Valley in France, whether it’s Colorado and the magnificence of the mountains, we can intertwine the story of the race with the story of the region.”
As the voices of cycling, they also never miss a chance to attack the seemingly omnipresent drug issues. While they say, “We’re not investigative journalists,” they have as much respect as Woodward and Bernstein.
Their words carry the weight of the Alps. And they attack dopers.
“I got a little depressed by it,” Liggett said. “They’re ruining what I see is my way of life. They’re cheating, and they’re inconsiderate of other people who enjoy the sport.”
The broadcasters daily schedule is more grueling than their happy banter reveals. Take the Tour de France. They spend the entire race — up to six hours — near the finish line in a broadcasting van just slightly larger than a space capsule.
Before the start they’ll tape up to six commentaries they’ll sprinkle into their Versus broadcast, SBS in Australia and ITV4 in England. Yes, they are often on three networks at the same time. When one station goes on commercial break, they’ll talk to another network.
“We’re both on a blood sugar high,” Sherwen said.
If you wonder if they have photographic memories, you’re close but not quite. Liggett has computer files on his laptop with the performance history of every cyclist in the race. Back at the hotel he has a three-ring notebook in which he has kept the results of every Tour de France race since 1973.
After the broadcast, Sherwen drives with Liggett to the next finishing town, sometimes not arriving until midnight.
Out of Africa
It’s a grind that nearly matches the cyclists’ but so does their passion. Liggett, 68, had a practical reason to get into the sport. While growing up near the Welsh border, he not only wasn’t good at other sports but his family didn’t have a car. With his bike he could actually see Wales.
Sherwen, 55, grew up in Uganda where his father was manager of a fertilizer factory. Sherwen still lives there today.
“It’s a different lifestyle,” Sherwen said. “It makes things a lot more real.”
He was a swimmer in his youth and after moving to England when he was 15 he started cycling.
After Sherwen raced his last Tour de France in 1985, when he finished despite a horrific crash on the first mountain day, Liggett asked him to join the broadcasting team on ITV4. They’ve been a team ever since.
Next week they’ll be in front of every cycling fan in the world from Paris to Phalaborwa and this time even to Crested Butte.
John Henderson: 303-954-1299, jhenderson@denverpost.com, Twitter: @johnhendersonDP
