Choosing words carefully to get a result

Radio Review: Should the language fit the crime? Did RTÉ's crime correspondent, Paul Reynolds, really need to use the word "dumped" when reporting on the discovery of young Robert Holohan's body in Inch?

Maybe it's hisstaccato delivery that made the word sound so grubbily sensationalist but other reporters, including his newsroom colleague, Cork-based Jenny O'Sullivan and Today FM's news team managed to convey the horror of the finding of the boy's body in a sensitive, straightforward way without resorting to such dehumanising language. Hearing the desperate hope in the voice of the boy's mother, Majella Holohan, on Gerry Ryan (RTÉ 2fm, Wednesday) only hours earlier, somehow made the brutal language sound unnecessarily cruel.

Going also for the tabloid angle - but on a different subject - was George Hook on The Right Hook (NewsTalk 106, Monday) although his interviewee, the State Pathologist, Dr Marie Cassidy, was too professional to play that game. When an interviewer prefaces a question with "some of our listeners may be eating their dinner", you know he's after details that are probably best left off air.

The topic was the forensic identification of the tsunami victims, although as Cassidy wasn't at the scene, she could only give general information. Hook seemed dazzled to be talking to her. "Is it true the Amanda Burton character in Prime Suspect is modelled on you," he cooed in his own bull in a china shop way, and he seemed not to notice just how many questions he was prefacing with "Now I know you're not there but . . ." and how ultimately pointless the interview was.

Five Seven Live (RTÉ Radio 1, Monday) took the same subject of forensic identification but contacted a reporter in Phuket who was able to give clear and above all, relevant, on-the-ground information about the 300 pathologists, the morgues and the procedures that were being followed.

If the Newstalk interview was interesting, it was only because it was a chance to hear the voice - a soft Scottish brogue incidentally - of a public figure that we see, but rarely hear.

On The Invisible Thread (RTÉ lyric fm, Sunday), Carmel Foley was Theo Dorgan's guest in the station's interview slot and hers is a very familiar voice. As director of Consumer Affairs she crops up on the airwaves every week and Dorgan is to be congratulated for never once using the words rip-off Ireland or quizzing her about high prices. Instead it was a thoughtful interview, filling out her personal life and exploring her high-achieving CV. Her top financial advice isn't to shop around or look at the fine print but the more ideological point that women should make sure they have their own money.

Playing With Pride, Liam Nolan's inspiring Documentary On One (RTÉ Radio 1, Wednesday), introduced us to Aodan O'Riordan, a sort of inner-city Mr Chips. He arrived at St Laurence O'Toole's Girls School, near Dublin's Sheriff Street, four years ago and undaunted by the lack of facilities in the disadvantaged area, the young teacher set up a GAA football team. To say the area isn't a GAA stronghold would be an understatement but the girls soon set their sights on getting to Croke Park instead of living in the shadow of it. There's a junior league of 24 schools and that's where the final is held.

It wasn't an easy goal for many reasons, not least the fact that the girls have no grassy area to practise on, so the only time they get to wear their football boots is during competition matches. But last year they made it into the final, this year they were in the quarter finals and the documentary followed them up to that bitter defeat in Fairview Park. "Remember where you're from," O'Riordan shouted, and the girls chorused his words back. "Have pride, play for your family, your school, your area" - O'Riordan would make Mick O'Dwyer sound severely challenged in the motivational speech department.

He started the team to build the children's self esteem. "They feel inferior," he said. "They know what people think of Sheriff Street, they talk with their hands in front of their mouths." They never hear their accents on radio or TV, O'Riordan said, unless it's a criminal being portrayed. And the pride he's built up in the classroom has rippled out. On the day they played in Croke Park, one dad was so chuffed at his girl's achievement that when she was finally tucked up in bed, he went to her kit bag, took out her football boots, scraped the Croke Park muck off them and put it carefully in a envelope as a memento. A movie scriptwriter couldn't make it up. After another match, a girl from the other side sniped, "God, yous are very common". "Yeah," said the St Laurence O'Toole girl, "but we're brilliant." Result.