People said Tim Henman was boring. There is, however, a huge difference between presenting an inoffensive dullness to the world's press and being boring.

On court Henman wasn't dull. His career at Wimbledon was marked by operatic highs and lows. His late run to the semi-final of the French Open a perfect illustration of a top-class, if frustrating, career.

Nick Faldo? True there are better, more exciting, ways to win an Open than hitting 18 straight pars. But Faldo could become involved in high drama: his role as the victor as Greg Norman confirmed forever his predilection for choking was as fine an example of sporting drama as any I've seen.

And off the course his cack-handed approach to fellow players, his kamikaze attitude to the press and his inability to maintain a marriage meant the Faldo show was rarely boring.

What these two have in common is that they have reinvented themselves in front of the camera now their careers are over. Although Henman's self deprecating jokes and willingness to be the butt of John McEnroe's rants seems less forced than Faldo's eccentric Englishman routine, they have both shown that they're not actually that dull or boring.

You might call this the Steve Davis route: the diminishing light of a top-class career replaced by a new affection from witty and erudite media work. Think Michael Atherton as well. Even Brian Moore: the media careers - the second stage of so many sporting lives - offers redemption and the chance to change public perceptions.

More and more of our sportsmen and women are grabbing this chance now. Yet there is one man who has used his media career not to reinvent himself but to strengthen his claim to the “bore of sport” crown.

For one month, from that bizarre studio in Vienna, Alan Shearer said nothing of any note. Nothing. Alan Hansen may have become a parody of what he once was but there is enough of a spark to allow him to bounce off Martin O'Neill.

Not Shearer though. His sole contribution seems to be take what Hansen says, mix it with a large dash of boringness and regurgitate it in that monotonous drone.

Great player. Led Blackburn from the front. Galvanised Newcastle. Served England well. But, my god, he was dull then as well. Remember the autobiography? The stunning admission that Blackburn's title win was celebrated by creosoting the fence?

I think that was included to make him seem like a normal person. It didn't. I know a lot of normal blokes and not one of them would celebrate a league title by doing some DIY.

Of course there were the goals, some of them thrilling, and the performances. But unless you supported his team could you connect with him? Did you ever think: “There goes a true sporting giant, a brilliant player with the personality to match.” Or did you think: “Some player that, boring as hell though.”

Even when he snarled and got angry it didn't make him charismatic. Yes, he was physical, but it wasn't even an interesting kind of physicality. Remember the clash with Roy Keane? Two Premier League giants, head to head - and Shearer hiding behind the linesman. Enough said.

I'm told by a couple of people that have worked at St James' Park that Shearer had a reputation for supreme arrogance around the club. That almost endeared me to him, it was something to cling on to. It was something more than wondering, throughout his first full season as a pundit, just how much he could defy the law of physics by wearing extremely tight trouser and spreading his legs as far as they would go.

Maybe he was directed to do it by producers desperate to create a drama out of straining fabric to detract from the mindless platitudes that pass for a Shearer conversation. As spectator sports go I'd rather watch someone creosote a fence.

Even when, late in his career, he discovered that undermining managers was almost as much fun as scoring goals, it was a passionless, stony-faced form of revolt. Same dull persona, only mildly spiced up by off-the-record press briefings conducted through friends of friends. No crash and burn, no public spats, Shearer exerted his influence with all the charisma of a school sneak.

Newcastle, Blackburn, the jobs he hasn't taken. Would he inspire a team? I have my doubts. He makes a great play of being loyal to his BBC contract. How his paymasters in TV must wish he would take one of those jobs. Because, as might have been predicted by all that's gone before, they have signed an almighty turkey.