Romps, Tots and Boffins

by Robert Hutton

  upset at the polls • we called this one wrong.

  vile racist remarks • the sort usually made by local councillors on Facebook, without having thought how they’ll look when reported in the paper.

  whispering campaign • people have been phoning us to complain about their leader again.*

  wide-ranging speech • leadership bid.

  worst week • what the prime minister has just had, in the Sunday paper round-ups.

  * Other things that no one in management, government or journalism understands include computer security, the internal combustion engine and the human kidney.

  * Introduced to the political lexicon by Neil Kinnock, who told James Naughtie in a 1989 encounter: ‘I’m not going to sit here and be bloody kebabbed by you.’ The BBC didn’t play the quote, but Naughtie instead explained on air that the interview had been suspended because Kinnock objected to the line of questioning, before it was resumed. Thus effectively kebabbing him.

  * No, we’re not counting the relaunch.

  * It may say something about the state of British politics in 2013 that ‘whispering campaign’ was nominated for the journalese list by aides to the leaders of all three main parties.

  MODIFIERS

  Liven up copy by sprinkling a few of these over it to taste:

  blistering

  brisk

  damning

  daring

  defiant

  devastating

  disgruntled

  furious

  hapless

  lavish

  slumbering

  staggering

  stinging

  stunning

  tearful

  vile

  wacky

  withering

  WAYS GOVERNMENT SPOKESPEOPLE REFUSE TO ANSWER THE QUESTION

  ‘I’m not going to get into hypotheticals.’ Almost any question about the future can be characterised as a hypothetical one, especially if you keep in mind that there being a future at all depends on the world not ending this afternoon.

  ‘I’m not going to get into processology.’ Processology, the study of How What Just Happened Happened, is the study of the past. Which is another country. So perhaps you should take your smart questions to the Foreign Office.

  ‘I’m not going to give a running commentary.’ This certainly isn’t the time to tell you what’s happening in the present.

  ‘I don’t accept your characterisation of the situation.’ Refusing to accept the premise of the question gets a spokesman out of the rest of the questions about the present. There is the danger that a reporter will ask for the spokesman’s characterisation of the situation. To which the answer is...

  ‘I think I answered that earlier.’

  JOURNALESE ROW SCALE

  Every unhappy family may be unhappy in its own way,* but all rows in newspapers, whether between celebrities, politicians or countries, are alike.

  shoulder to shoulder • everyone is ‘united’. The row is ‘brewing’.

  tiff • there has been a disagreement that is simultaneously trivial and worth writing up.

  tensions • have ‘surfaced’. If strong words were involved, they ‘broke out into the open’.

  spat • a minor row. Does not typically ‘expose divisions’.

  contretemps • The Guardian is reporting a spat.

  loggerheads • there is a proper disagreement. Readers of the Financial Times will be told there is an ‘impasse’.

  clash • the disagreement has been discussed, without resolution.

  rift • the result of the clash. At any given time, this may be a growing rift.

  blasted • what one side has done to the other, by suggesting they may be wrong or mistaken. Or try ‘lambasted’.

  war of words • both sides are now briefing.

  stand-off • both sides are briefing that the other side is about to back down.

  bust-up • there has been another attempt to bring peace to the issue. It did not go well.

  full and frank exchange of views • how diplomats describe a bust-up.

  split • what there is now. In ecclesiastical stories, try ‘schism’.

  row • what ‘erupted’ instead of peace. Rows can be ‘bitter’, ‘explosive’, ‘furious’, ‘stand-up’, ‘knockdown’ or ‘drag-out’. In ecclesiastical matters, they are always ‘unholy’. Both sides are now ‘locked in’ the row. The row may now ‘escalate’, ‘deepen’, or ‘simmer’ until ‘defused’. With a bit of luck, there’ll be a ‘bloodbath’.*

  * Alluding to great literature in a way that allows you and the reader to pretend you’ve both read it is a tactic popular with broadsheet columnists. Of course I haven’t read Tolstoy. Not even the first line.

  * No actual blood need be spilt.

  PROPERTY LADDER

  I was introduced to the journalistic art of property valuation while leaning on a gate, waiting to see if a rugby player whose wife had left him for another rugby player would come out and speak. ‘How much do you reckon this place is worth?’ the reporter from another Sunday tabloid asked me. ‘Got to be a couple of million,’ I replied. ‘Two-million-pound house,’ he said, as he wrote it in his pad.*

  architect-designed house • any dwelling where the builders had a plan, and didn’t just pile the bricks on top of each other at random.

  bachelor pad • a single man has bought a house.

  close-knit community • the kind to be avoided at all costs when choosing where to live, as they’re always the ones where ‘tragedy strikes’.

  leafy suburb • crime is all the more shocking when it takes place near trees.

  love nest • a couple have bought a house.

  multimillion • what all developments are. Even a scout hut costs a million these days.

  penthouse • any flat above the ground floor.

  playground for the rich • usually the Hamptons, but has been used to refer to Davos, Monaco, the Florida Keys, Malibu, Cyprus, New York, Singapore, Aspen, Phuket, Monte Carlo and London. Anywhere you can buy two kinds of champagne.

  plush • any hotel where you can’t hear the people in the next room.

  RELIGION

  The Bible tells us that while men look at the outward appearance, God looks at the heart. It turns out that journalists also look at the heart, which enables them to categorise believers. All Catholics are either ‘devout’ or ‘lapsed’. All Protestants are ‘staunch’. Muslims may be ‘devout’ or occasionally ‘fanatical’, but are never lapsed. Jews are only ever ‘observant’, though how they use their powers of watchfulness is never explained. Atheists are ‘avowed’ or sometimes ‘fervent’. If they’re also Secularists, they may be ‘militant’. Female vicars under 40 are ‘glamorous’, certainly relative to other vicars. The success of any Scottish Protestant can be explained by their ‘work ethic’, especially if they’re a ‘son of the manse’.

  * A rather more thorough colleague recalls attempting to answer the question by going to consult a local expert. ‘Sorry to bother you, I’m a journalist,’ he said. ‘That’s all right, I’m an estate agent,’ came the reply.

  LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS

  Writers about celebrity face a particular problem. There’s a huge demand for their output, but the serious A-list celebs devote serious time and money to keeping their lives private. Royal correspondents have it worst, but general showbiz correspondents are expected to fill two pages a day. Unlike, say, political reports, much of showbiz output is picturedriven. A photo of Tom Cruise, out shopping and with an irritable expression on his face (as though perhaps he thinks he sees a photographer in the distance) will arrive with little or no explanation. The reporter will then have to write a 100-word caption, without libelling anyone or offering too many hostages to fortune in their speculation about why Cruise might be looking so grumpy. The first five words they type will be ‘Top Gun star Tom Cruise’. Only 95 to go.

  all grown up • this caption, about how a 13-year-old a
ctress is wearing a nice dress, was written by Weird Keith, the member of staff we suspect of keeping his mother’s corpse in his basement.

  ample assets • not sure why we’ve printed this picture? Perhaps you should look at it again.

  clown prince • someone who, while not a professional funnyman, definitely just did something funny.

  crooner • preferably ‘aging crooner’. Val Doonican yes, Bob Dylan no.

  defied the cold • she didn’t wear a coat.

  diva • any female singer, but especially one who wants flowers in her dressing room. Or try: ‘warbler’ (especially if from Wales); ‘popstrel’; ‘chanteuse’; ‘songstress’.

  downward spiral • what troubled stars go into.

  drugs hell • where their downward spiral leads.

  exclusive • restaurant where you have to book at least a week in advance.

  figure-flaunting outfit • look! You can see almost everything!

  flame-haired • not a ‘blonde’ or a ‘brunette’.

  flunkey • technical term for a royal aide.

  fragile • thin, pale or recently dumped.

  glitzy • what awards nights are, unless they’re ‘glittering’.

  haggard • how troubled stars appear.

  hellraiser • male star who 20 years ago could make women faint by taking his shirt off, but who now is just a tubby drunk.

  Hollywood whispers • one drunk person told us but we need to get it past the editor.

  little left to the imagination • you actually can see everything in this one.

  meltdown • an upset star started shouting at people.

  moppet • a pre-teen star. See all grown up.

  plunging top • wahey, boobies!

  poured her curves • how women get into ‘figure-hugging’ dresses.

  revealing neckline • not quite a plunging top, but there’s a strong hint of ample assets.

  rocker • man from a guitar band you remember from school. Or ‘aging rocker’, a man from a guitar band your Dad remembers from school. Keith Richards yes, Bob Dylan no.*

  scantily clad • honestly, why are you even reading this caption? NEARLY NAKED LADIES in the picture!

  scooped • how someone collected an award.

  she was very professional • utterly cold bitch.

  slinky • is it time to do another piece on whether she has an eating disorder?

  star-studded • what all events, ever, in the history of showbiz journalism are. Or try ‘Stars Come Out For Donkey Sanctuary Fundraiser’.

  stepped out • she’s left her house, which means she’s pretty much fair game for snappers.

  swanky • restaurant with cloth napkins.

  the smile that says ... • a particular favourite of Royal correspondents, this is a handy way of filling caption space when there’s no quote, but the subject is definitely smiling. See, for example, ‘Is This The Smile That Says I’m Back With Bieber?’; ‘The Smile That Says It’s Going To Be A VERY Good Awards Season’ and ‘The Smile That Says I’m Alive!’

  Top Gun Star Tom Cruise • or ‘Tom Cruise’, as he’s known to everyone outside newspapers. On showbiz pages he’s still regularly identified by his role in a 1986 film. This is to help readers who can’t immediately picture Tom Cruise, but will be helped along by the reminder of, ‘you know, the short one in Top Gun’. I’ve even seen Cruise, one of the world’s most famous actors, who is never confused with anyone else, identified helpfully on second reference as ‘the Rock of Ages star’. This was to help a reader who couldn’t picture Tom Cruise, even with the Top Gun clue, but was still for some reason reading a piece of gossip about him. Rule of thumb: ‘Star Wars star Mark Hamill’ is helpful. ‘Star Wars star Harrison Ford’ is redundant.

  troubled • what stars are, when a lethal cocktail looks like it might be approaching their table.

  wrapped up warm • she wore a coat.

  * On the rare occasions Dylan features on the showbiz pages, he will be referred to as some combination of poet, singer, composer and genius. Sub-editors feel a lot of affinity towards a man who does beautiful things with words while dressing like a tramp.

  THIS SPORTING LIFE

  Next to sports journalese, all other journalese looks pale. Other journalists may work a drugs hell in here, or a heartfelt plea in there, but their copy can still be understood. Only sports reporters have managed to create an entire language that is both clichéd and incomprehensible to the uninitiated.

  The most impressive thing about sports journalese is that it’s not even the jargon of industry insiders. You could know everything about the theory and practice of football and still not be able to understand a piece of football gossip as reported in a British paper. Wantaway starlets, mazy runs, come-and-get-me pleas – players and managers don’t talk this way, only sportswriters. Perhaps this is because the writers are fans, not professionals. Few former star players become reporters, and managers and strikers aren’t generally recruited from the press box.

  Football journalism, which is what most sports journalism in Britain is, divides into Match Reports and Soap Opera.

  Match Reports* are an attempt to impose an epic narrative structure on a sequence of loosely connected events, heavily influenced by chance. The story must tell fans that their lives are invested in a great heroic, moral tale. It should also reassure them that the highly paid athletes on the pitch are actually there for the same reason the fans are: love of the team and the game. Why did they win? They wanted it more. Why did they lose? They’re jinxed.

  Soap Opera is what fills the sports pages between matches. As with showbiz, the challenge for the writer is to find fresh ways every day of interpreting the words ‘we’re taking each match as it comes, getting our heads down, and focusing on winning for the fans’. Who can blame people under such pressure for inventing a language?

  ace • a player who is good at the sport he plays. Sometimes compounded, to specify which bit of the sport he plays well, as in ‘goal ace’.

  acres of space • there were no other players near him.

  back-me-or-sack-me • what team managers tell team owners.

  backlash • having been unexpectedly beaten by an inferior team last week, the sporting professionals are going to try extra hard to win when they next play.

  bag a brace • two successful shots, an expression used only on grouse moors and in football writers’ copy.

  best fans in the world • how Scottish papers are required to describe their readers, who only occasionally stab each other after matches for holding the wrong views on Papal infallibility.

  bogey team • a not-very-good team that has a record of beating one particular very good team.

  booked a place in the final • the alternative to crashing out.

  boss • 1. to play much better than the other team. ‘Manchester Utd bossed QPR in the first half.’; 2. take over as manager. ‘Allison to boss the Palace.’

  bouncebackability • a shorter version of ‘resilience’ for people who can’t count letters.*

  bow out • to crash out with dignity.

  brave • the sporting professional, having suffered a setback in the match, continued to do the job they are paid very large sums to do, rather than, say, sitting down and crying.

  briefs • Scottish journalese for tickets.

  campaign • any attempt to win any trophy over a series of matches.

  come-and-get-me plea • what wantaway players issue.

  coolly • how penalties are scored in football.

  crash out • the technical term for losing a game that results in your leaving a tournament.

  dark horse • we will now cover ourselves by pointing out that a team that isn’t one of the favourites could also win the championship.

  disgruntled star • a wantaway player on second reference. Typically, he doesn’t wish to desert the club, but knows the fans will understand. They won’t, because they’re fans. He won’t grasp this, because he’s
a professional athlete.

  drubbing • what the losing team got, in the course of the winning team’s romp.

  fritter away • what the sportsmen did with their chances to score. Had your correspondent not been stuck in the press box, he could have done a rather better job.

  fully 40 yards • a helpful reminder that this is quite a long distance over which to do this kind of thing.

  giant-killers • this lower-placed team has beaten a higher-placed team.

  glory • what players ‘set their sights on’.

  glovesman • goalkeeper or, in cricket, wicketkeeper. Sometimes a ‘hapless custodian’.

  half a yard • all shots that almost go into the goal miss by 18 inches. This is also the distance by which footballers are always offside, and the amount of space they typically found (unless it was acres of space, obviously).

  handbags • what get swung when footballers have rows.

  hitman • a footballer who scores goals.

  jinking run • he ran in a wobbly line, to confound the opposing team.

  kid gloves • young goalkeeper. See what we did there?

  leave everything on the pitch • the manager has requested that, because this is an important game, the professional full-time sportsmen earn their very high wages by playing as hard as they can, for the whole length of the match. Which by good fortune is what they train to do.

  lung-busting run • well, it would certainly give your correspondent a stitch if he tried to sprint that distance.

  maestro • a southern European sportsman who’s especially good at his sport.

  mazy dribble • he changed direction while running, thus avoiding defenders.

  notch up • what bowlers do to wickets and batsmen do to centuries in cricket.

  numbered • what the manager’s days are always.

  old guard • collective noun for a team’s old lags.