My Mum and Dad once attended a school parents’ evening in which a teacher decided that brevity was the better part of bullsh*t.
‘Your son Piers,’ he said, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘is a complete and utter buffoon.’
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Strictly’s Craig Revel Horwood has been bullied into being nicerCredit: PA
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We much preferred Craig when he was being brutally honest
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My teacher called me a buffoon – he was right
And that was it, the full review of my term’s work, with the teacher shooing his hands impatiently to denote that no further dialogue was necessary.
My shell-shocked parents shuffled away, and we had what can best be described as a testy conversation about my alleged buffoonery when they returned home.
But here’s the thing: the teacher, a brilliant man named Tony Freeman, was right.
I was indeed being a buffoon in his history classes at Lewes Priory 6th Form in Sussex.
And he gave his withering verdict from a good place: I was a capable student who enjoyed history, and he knew I could end up with a good grade if I just stopped clowning around.
So, I knuckled down, got an A, and won a place at university to read History (I opted for journalism college instead).
Bottom line: Mr Freeman’s tough love worked.
I thought of that when I read that Strictly Come Dancing judge Craig Revel Horwood has dialled down his ‘catty’ critiques of celebrity dancers because the absurdly overblown Giovanni Pernice scandal has made him worried about being branded a bully and being cancelled.
Instead, we’re now having to endure his ‘softer side’ in which he’s insufferably kind to everyone and even gives perfect 10 scores.
‘I was really harsh 20 years ago,’ he said. ‘When I look back, I think, ‘Ooh, that’s cutting.’ I do still say what’s wrong, but you can wrap the truth in a nice way. I’m thinking more like a teacher than a judge.’
No, no, no Craig!
The reason viewers loved you as a judge is precisely because you gave it to them in a ruthlessly straight and entertaining way.
You were right to say Jeremy Vine danced ‘like a stork that had been struck by lightning’, and that former Home Secretary Jacqui Smith ‘limped about like you were lost at a party somewhere, drunk’, and when you told Scott Mills ‘you are the exception to the rule that anyone can learn to dance.’
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Fans loved your honest critique of celebs like ‘dancing stork’ Jeremy VineCredit: BBC
And I say that as a former judge myself on both America’s and Britain’s Got Talent, when I also used to call it exactly how I saw or heard it and didn’t give a damn if that offended people.
Craig without the cutting cattiness is like Samson without the hair.
His conversion from Mr Nasty to Mr Nice Guy just to appease the woke brigade, is indicative of how society has been moving to a place of hideously disingenuous #BeKind fake sincerity where any criticism is viewed as an offensive harmful insult, victimhood is a virtue, and losing or failing gets celebrated more than winning.
Brutal honesty is far better than fawning praise
They’ve gone through their education being wrapped in cotton wool, given participation prizes for coming last, freaking out when they hear different opinions, and having their constant whining about having their feelings hurt tolerated to a ludicrous degree.
This all just makes them woefully ill-trained for the real world.
What they need is proper advice on how to be mentally stronger, more resilient, and less anxious about how to handle life’s many challenges.
Brutal honesty, be it from teachers or talent show judges, is far better for them in the long run than fawning false praise.
I once buzzed off a rock violinist dancer on AGT named Lindsey Sterling and told her that she was talented but some of her playing sounded like rats being strangled.
She is now a huge star who’s won two Billboard Music Awards, sold millions of records, and toured the world including a sell-out show at the Royal Albert Hall.
Lindsey admitted recently: ‘I owe a lot to Piers Morgan! I really wasn’t that great at it yet. So, he gave me a reason to fight. After I had a good cry and pulled myself up by my bootstraps, that hurt and embarrassment turned into extreme motivation… I’m gonna prove him wrong!’
And to her great credit, she did.
Get back to being catty, cutting and HONEST, Craig.
They’ll thank you in the end.
TWO FACED
Talking of talent show judges, ex-BGT star David Walliams has revealed he’s ‘probably non-binary’.
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Walliams isn’t a man of many faces – just the two
This confusing two-faced state of mind could also apply to the duplicitous little berk’s judging where he was obsequiously flattering to contestants while he thought he was on air – but was then caught on a hot mic cruelly mocking and abusing them, when he thought he wasn’t.
PREZZA’S PUNCH-BAG
When I survey the boring, robotic ranks of our current cabinet and shadow cabinet, my soul yearns for the days when we had characters like the late, great John Prescott.
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I had the odd jab or two from Prezza but we miss big political characters like himCredit: ITV/REX/Shutterstock
As the egg-throwing moron he once punched can attest, Prezza was an uncompromising – and brilliant – bruiser of a politician who didn’t suffer fools, Conservatives or egotistical journalists.
And in his eyes, I ticked all three boxes!
When I first met him at the Labour Party conference in 1995, I’d just been made editor of the Mirror and Blair’s top tier were all over me like a rash of sycophantic measles, desperate to curry favour with what they perceived to be their in-house paper.
Apart from Prezza, who marched up to me, growled, ‘Ah, the ****ing Tory!’, and marched away again, cackling.
From that day, despite me voting Labour at the next two elections, that’s all he ever called me.
Years later, when I was presenting an ITV travel series entitled ‘Piers Morgan On…’ (and then the name of the location), it prompted Prezza to run a Twitter competition to see who could end the words ‘Piers Morgan On….’ in the funniest way.
And the entries flooded in, including ‘Piers On… fire’, ‘Piers On… a bath of sulphuric acid’ and one saying simply, ‘Piers On… Piers’ (to which Prezza remarked, ‘It’s his favourite subject!’).
Eventually, he declared joint winners: ‘My top two are “Piers On…
Jobseeker’s Allowance” and “Piers On… TV Off” .. thanks, everyone!’
Then someone tweeted: ‘What about a programme where Piers gets chased by a pack of dogs?’
To which Prezza replied, ‘Now THAT’S a Morgan show I’d watch!’
I’ll miss him.
A CHAMPAGNE TOAST TO BARBARA
I was sad to hear best-selling A Woman of Substance novelist Barbara Taylor Bradford has died.
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With my champagne chum, the wonderful Barbara Taylor Bradford
We enjoyed a fabulously entertaining dinner several years ago in which we bonded over a shared love of vintage champagne, Winston Churchill, and mischief-making, a hatred of woke political correctness, a belief that strong opinions are the spice of life, an admiration for the Royal Family and a fervent desire for Meghan Markle to stop moaning.
Barbara’s husband Bob had recently died, ending a blissfully happy 55-year marriage.
‘I can’t talk about him too much or I will start crying,’ she said, her eyes instantly welling up. ‘Bob was the love of my life.’
I’m glad they’re now back together again.
As for what makes a good wife, she didn’t hesitate: ‘Don’t quibble over who picks up a pair of socks. If you love a man, don’t be childish and pick up his f*cking socks!’
WE’LL HAVE A PRICEY TO PAY
Rachel Reeves, having repeatedly promised us during the election campaign that she wouldn’t punitively tax us, but then promptly doing so in her first budget, now promises not to punitively tax us again during this Government’s tenure.
Forgive me if I view the Chancellor’s latest pledge with the same confidence that I do when Katie Price tells a judge she’s learned her lesson and will behave better in future.
TRASH TALK
The debate over assisted dying should also make us reflect on the way we talk to terminally ill people.
One of my best mates died recently from Glioblastoma brain cancer and found the well-intentioned but clichéd entreaties like ‘stay strong’, ‘hang tough’ and ‘keep battling’ increasingly irksome.
‘What else am I supposed to do, exactly?’ said Miles, who handled his dreadful disease with extraordinary courage and good humour.
He also intensely disliked the phrase ‘journey’ to describe what was happening to him, and worst of all, how he was repeatedly asked what ‘learnings’ he was taking away from ‘the process.’
‘All I’ve learned,’ he said, ‘is that the journey and the process are very bloody irritating.’
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With my late, dearly-loved friend Miles
