Want to share an excellent column by my old pal, Malcolm Moran. The director of the National Sports Journalism Center at Indiana offers a lesson for sports journalists, young and old.

He begins:

Can we talk about an epidemic?

Less than a month ago, in the days leading to the Bowl Championship Series National Championship Game, Jameis Winston, the Florida State quarterback and Heisman Trophy winner, heard a media member say, “Talk about the preparation you’ve had out here.”

His teammate, running back Devonta Freeman, who had overcome challenging circumstances during his adolescence, listened to a reporter say, “Can you talk about your childhood? Was it just you and your mom?”

Their head coach, Jimbo Fisher, delivered lengthy opening remarks at a press conference, which were followed by this: “Coach, can you talk a little bit about the focus?”

His opponent, Auburn coach Gus Malzahn, began a session and heard, “Talk about the preparations thus far.”

Chris Davis, the defensive back whose 100-yard return of a missed field goal beat Alabama and made him part of Auburn lore, heard this: “Chris, can you talk about Florida State’s wide receiving corps? How do you plan to prepare for them?”

Wait. Was there actually a question in there?

He adds:

When reporters across all platforms – print, broadcast and digital hybrids — pass those lanyards attached to credentials over their heads, they should do it with the understanding that “talk about…” is not a question. It’s a command. At the very least, it’s lazy and rude. It displays no thought, conveys no respect, offers no genuine invitation to some form of information, insight, emotion, enlightenment or dialogue. The command reflects the worst of 21^st Century Mad Libs journalism, no initiative required, just the insertion of some phrase behind the official designated soundbite cue: Talk about X.

Have the industries of journalism and mass communications become so dehumanized, so indifferent, that we can’t take the time, just a few seconds, to pose a well-framed question? No wonder Marshawn Lynch of the Seattle Seahawks has left skid marks as soon as the National Football League Fine-O-Meter said he can leave media sessions with his paycheck intact.

The longer I have taught college-age journalists how to develop their craft, the more I have realized that additional time has to be spent discussing the art of asking the question. The selection of the topic. The proper, antiseptic wording. The awareness needed to follow up if necessary.

And finally, Tortorella Moratorium:

During a press conference last May, Tortorella listened to a media member say, “Talk about coaching in the playoffs.” That was all he needed to hear.

“Ask me a question,” Tortorella said. “Don’t say ‘talk about it.’ Ask me a question, please. I’m not going to talk about it if it isn’t a question.”

Now that’s what I’m talking about. With the wall-to-wall rhetoric of Super Bowl Sunday nearly upon us, and the translator-driven Olympic Winter Games in Sochi right behind, I propose a pledge to eliminate those two unnecessary words.

We can call it the Tortorella Moratorium in honor of our unlikely patron saint, complete with the accompanying incentive for media members worldwide: Don’t make me send him to go knocking on your door.

OK, everyone understand now?