Terry's Lesson on Language

Some 20-something years ago, a young bloke trying to earn his bones as a writer wrote a wrap on a round of local football which included the word “champion”.

It was in reference to Wesley Vale onballer Josh Holland (who I still maintain is one of the top three community footballers I’ve seen live) who had played a blinder and I wrote something like, “Wesley Vale champion, Josh Holland, yada yada, yada.”

The rebuke I got came quickly and fiercely from a warhorse sportswriter of several decades in the late, great Terry Morris.

“Has he won anything? Has Wesley Vale won anything? No? Therefore, is he a champion?” Terry asked before leading into a five-minute diatribe on superlatives.

I was not expecting such a bollocking from my mentor, and in particular not one so robust.

Superlatives should always be qualified.

I’ve live by this bollocking every time I write now, more than seven and a half thousand days on from night upstairs in the Examiner office in Devonport.

It is something the wider media is best to learn and something we as writers, coaches, teachers and communicators can learn too.

The language we use is so important.

To me, the language we use and how we approach day-to-day interactions is vital to the success of those around us and the relationships built personally and professionally.

So many “communicators” are looking for what they can say.

To be heard, stand out and be remembered as, “the guy who said this.”

Often this desire to be heard or seen leads to sensationalism but far too common place that the special moments are tainted by a poor choice of words that can steal attention from the true moment.

The drone of excessive use of poorly chose words leads to lessons, advice and information being drowned out and never heard, let alone listened to.

Language is extremely powerful and can add or detract from a moment or message.

Here, without the use of massive words that usually do not fit anyway, ends the lesson of language.

Terry is no longer with us but his thirst for language, hopefully, lives on a but through this very short and almost unjust piece.

I’ll leave you with this qualified superlative, Terry Morris’ love of language and support made him a legend in my eyes and a doyen of Tasmanian media.

Here’s to Terry, and the qualified superlative.