Wynne Gray: Colourful language at least gives us a glimpse of heart

More than 50 years ago, All Black loose forward Peter Jones staggered Eden Park spectators and sent the nation's broadcasting wowsers into apoplexy.

His crime? He'd mentioned he was "absolutely buggered" after playing an enormous role in the series-deciding test against the visiting Springboks.

Since the hubbub around Jones' faux pas, New Zealand has moved on.

At least we thought we had until this week when the very talented and feisty Silver Ferns captain Casey Williams let rip with an "I'm pissed off" reaction when quizzed about the netball series loss to the Convicts.

We may as well have been back in 1956 as we witnessed some of the subsequent outrage. What was the problem?

Williams' language was much milder than that seen on a regular basis on our small screens every week. But somehow she raised the wrath of a significant chunk of the nation.

Was the shock-horror element because this was a woman expressing her emotion, it was live television and it was netball? Buggered if I know.

What I do know, though, is that if you are going to stick a microphone up someone's hooter a short while after they have lost an international sporting contest, you run the risk of hearing some colourful language.

And thank goodness for that. Far better than the sanitised retorts from those on the All Black coaching panel, who turn up to orchestrated media conferences, or the "must do better" analysis from the Black Caps' entourage.

Jones and Williams offered two straight-from-the-heart reactions which showed their state of health or mind.

To those offended by such simple truths and direct language, change channels when the final whistle blows.

Colourful language and sport are inseparable. It will not abate, not with stumpcam or wicket microphone in cricket and Sports Ears in rugby which allow spectators to tune into action in the middle.

We have seen Serena Williams and Roger Federer both being fined for recent rants of varying intensity and atrocity. Peanuts. The only thing which harms them is losing matches or being banned from tournaments.

The problem is trying to differentiate between sledging, which seems to grab elements of gamesmanship, and out-and-out swearing or abuse. Jibes are often offensive, sometimes hilarious and can be very effective.

We saw Zinedine Zidane react violently when he headbutted an Italian defender who got far too personal with insults about Zidane's sister. We could sympathise with Zidane while giving a nod to the Italian's skin-pricking expertise.

Even the most diehard All Black supporter might have appreciated George Gregan's quick wit when he whispered "four more years" to his fallen rival Byron Kelleher at the 2003 World Cup.

Or the many Muhammad Ali-isms which populated boxing during his days in pomp.

"Sonny Liston is so ugly when the sweat runs down his face, it has to look the other way," Ali crowed one day to his audience.

As reporters we are not immune.

In 1994 when the fires were burning all around Laurie Mains' coaching tenure, he let rip the morning after Gregan had denied his side victory with his extraordinary cover tackle on Jeff Wilson.

My relationship then with Mains, for all sorts of reasons, was at best rocky. After waiting while a young, female ABC reporter was granted an interview in the team foyer, my similar inquiry to Mains met with a disdainful look, a negative, then a tirade which ended with: "You dirty shafting little ..."

That got a run, expletive deleted, in the Herald, to illustrate the tension and the pressure surrounding the All Blacks, just as Williams' retort the other night showed her passion for the job.