Has anybody else noticed that the business pages are sounding more and more like the sports pages lately? Earlier this week, for example, we were told that New York stock markets had "plunged" to one of the "biggest losses of recent years," "falling sharply" and even "collapsing" in a "frantic last hour," after "panic gripped" traders.
For a moment, I thought I was reading about the English "cricket team", which the day before had "collapsed" against Sri Lanka, albeit in several "frantic" last hours. Equally, it could have been a report on the Newcastle-Liverpool football match, with a passing reference to hat-trick hero Michael Owen who famously, during the World Cup, "fell sharply" in Argentina's penalty area, even though he hadn't been touched.
It might also have been a preview of today's match between Ireland and Croatia, in which - possibly even as you read this - panic has gripped the Irish central defence as it faces either a "frantic last-hour" defending a flukey lead, or - more likely - "one of the biggest losses of recent years".
The point is, financial journalism increasingly uses the same excited language as sports reporting. Consider another example, from a story about Monday's trading on the New York Stock Exchange:
"After a frenetic opening quarter-hour of wildly oscillating fortunes, the early deficit was wiped out, and Clare even managed to take the lead when Jamesie O'Connor. . ."
Wait a minute - that must have been Saturday's hurling match in Thurles. But you can see the confusion. If I quote you another report here, about a man "visibly shaken" by a recent series of losses, the "worst since 1929", you'd probably think it was a trader making comparisons with the Wall Street crash. But no! It was only the New Zealand All-Blacks manager reflecting on a series white-wash against Australia (in New Zealand, this is good enough reason for jumping off a ledge).
Elsewhere - this was definitely in the sports pages - I read that the "beleaguered" Tottenham Hotspur manager, a "Mr Gross" (never to be confused with "Mr Net") was thrown a "possible lifeline" at Goodison Park on Saturday, in the process "plunging new Everton boss Walter Smith into an early-season crisis".
Minus the obvious football terms, like "Walter", this could just as well be a finance story. As it happened, Everton "pulled themselves together after the early setback" in the game. Which is more than could be said for Monday's US stock market, when the Dow Jones "plunged to a new low," much as the notorious soccer player, Vinnie Jones, (no relation) has been doing for years.
Meanwhile, Germany's DAX index "ran into trouble" on Monday, 24 hours after Germany's Michael Schumacher ran into the back of another car in the Belgian Grand Prix. Like the DAX, Schumacher - who lost a wheel in the incident and closed the day (in a manner of speaking) 10 points down - was probably distracted by the situation in Russia.
Of course, market analysis has its own unique language, not found in sports writing. For example, we learned on Tuesday that the Dow had fallen through a "key psychological floor" the day before, whereas falling through the floor is not something that happens in sport (except occasionally in weightlifting).
Then there are the colourful buzzwords for which stock markets are famous, such as "stags," "bears," and "headless chickens". One of the reports I read this week said that there was a general nervousness in the New York market "after the long bull-run". (This I can understand - I was on holiday in Pamplona once, and even a short bull-run makes me nervous).
And some of the language is tinged with pathos. I choked a tear the same day when I read that "European equity markets made brief, brave rises in early trade, but were later upset when a senior Kremlin aide warned of political revolution".
Now much as we might admire those plucky little equity markets, here is the nub of the problem, I believe. It has to be said: stock market traders seem to be notoriously unstable. Up one minute, down the next, and always, always nervous.
Some of this must be due to diet: these people are famous for missing breakfast and they drink way too much coffee. But it must have something to do also with the fact that most of them are young men, who as well as dealing with very large amounts of money, also have to cope with huge levels of testosterone, half of which is telling them to "Sell" at any given moment, while the other half is screaming "Buy, you yellow b***ard!" Hence the volatility in the world's stock markets.
It may be argued that young men are best suited to the high-pressure atmosphere of the markets, but I can't think of any other pressure job where such behaviour would be tolerated. Imagine if traders were in charge of air traffic: "A Boeing 747 plunged sharply over JFK tonight, as the control tower reflected continuing nervousness over the position of incoming Aeroflot planes. . ."
The testosterone theory would also explain why the language of finance is so similar to that of sport, another area dominated by excitable young men. And personally, I wasn't at all surprised by the markets' "dramatic" recovery in the later part the week. But for anyone still feeling "sick as a parrot" over share losses, my advice is don't panic. You may be "one down with 20 minutes to go", but remember: "the game is never over till the final whistle sounds".