I'm surprised this organ of the British press still exists, to be fair.
My new housemate who we'll call Scott (for that is his name) left his used (though thankfully unpolluted) copy on the kitchen table after picking it up and I had a flick through it, just out of curiosity's sake.
Basically, it has three main selling points:
- Made up shit.
And therein hangs the question. In this era of cheap broadband, mobile internet coverage, and similar, how is there still a market for the dead tree press to sell newspapers laden with the above, all of which is readily available online? I asked Scott this and he said that he preferred to have a hard copy of his left-handed reading material, thankyaverymuch. (The fact that YouPorn is in his bookmarks on Chrome gives the lie to this, however.) In any event, there is an online edition, although it is behind a paywall and there is also a Twitter feed. Despite its name, it's published thrice weekly, as "Midweek Sport" on Wednesdays and "Weekend Sport" on Fridays as well as, of course, "Sunday Sport" on Sunday. All of them are much of a muchness. It has made some concessions to modernity as it now has a page named "Selfies" whereupon the ladyfolk of Britain are invited to sumbit images of their jubblies for the edification of people without internet access.
Probably its finest hour, other than assisting in the careers of various British grumble actresses, was its headline, "World War II Bomber Found On Moon!" which was, of course, nonsense. Even so, an eminent astronomer wrote in to call them out on this. Their headline the next day was, of course, "Bomber On Moon Disappears!" I think that's probably a fairly masterful piece of trolling. They recently tried to resurrect this by claiming that the missing airliner MH 370 was found on the moon but that sank like a brick in shit.
One rather incongruous thing about the Sport is that it has a political commentator. He's a gentleman named Paul Nuttall from UKIP, but nobody reads it because it's sandwiched (sorry) between several grotesquely inflated (and probably Photoshopped) mammaries. I'm not sure whether UKIP or Sport Newspapers plc should be more ashamed by this turn of events. Then again, I suppose if it's a UKIP person it falls within the ambit of reporting made up bollox, so... yeah. I also suppose it panders to the base.
So... yeah. That's the Sunday Sport. A real relic, it is.