Let’s talk sports terms: good, bad and descriptive.
Sports has its own language. Some of it is complimentary. Some of it is derogatory. Some of it doesn’t mean what you would think it means. Some things are descriptive, and some are just plain odd, and dedicated sports terms can be found in nearly every sport.
Baseball seems to have lots of fun jargon, so let’s focus on baseball today and other sports later in the year.
In baseball, you have “frozen rope” and “dying quail.” Both are good. A frozen rope is a hard-line drive hit directly to the outfield by the batter. If it is hit at a fielder, the batter is usually out, but it could be a frozen rope to the gap or the fence, which means extra bases. A dying quail is a weakly hit bloop fly that is over an infielder’s head and drops past him and in front of an outfielder. It is generally a hit and is also called a “Duck Snort” or a “Texas Leaguer.”
In the movie “Bull Durham,” Kevin Costner’s character, Crash Davis, uses it: “You know what the difference between hitting .250 and .300 is? It’s 25 hits. Twenty-five hits in 500 at-bats is 50 points, OK? There’s six months in a season. That’s about 25 weeks. That means if you get just one extra flare a week, just one – a gork, a ground ball, a ground ball with eyes, you get a dying quail – just one more dying quail a week, and you’re in Yankee Stadium.” But well before Crash Davis, many believe Oriole Hall of Famer Brooks Robinson coined the phrase in the 1960s.
As stated above, a Texas Leaguer is a pop fly that falls between the infielder and outfielder, possibly coming from Ollie Pickering, a Texas League player who once reached base on seven straight bloop singles. Pickering played for 30 years, eight in the majors and 22 in the minors, from 1892-1922, and was in the TL in the 1890s.
“Chin music” is when a pitcher throws one high and tight (aka “high cheese”) to a batter to back him off the plate. Broadcasters used to say the pitcher “shaved him inside.” Pitcher Sal Maglie often used that approach for the New York Giants in the 1950s, when he was nicknamed “Sal, the barber.”
“Good wood” is a baseball term meaning solid contact on a swing.
“Warning track power” means he can’t hit a home run, but he often hits a catchable ball to the fence (to the warning track) and into the outfielder’s glove. A few more feet, and he’d be a hero … but he is not.
“Ducks on the pond” was originally coined by Washington Senators broadcaster Arch McDonald, who was a hunter, and it means men on base just waiting for the batter to drive them home.
“Can of corn” is an easy fly ball for an outfielder to catch. Apparently, this one was popular in the 1890s, when grocers would stack cans on high shelves, knock them down with broom handles and catch them for customers.
“Uncle Charlie” is the curve ball, specifically a 12-6 curve (think of a clock … this one breaks vertically, up to down, rather than a sweeping curve that is parallel). It is “Charlie,” as in “C” for curve.
“Golden sombrero” is derived from “hat trick” and is striking out four times in a game. If a hat trick is three of anything from goals in a hockey game to three K’s, then even worse for a batter is a “platinum sombrero” or five whiffs in a game.
“Twin killing” is the pitcher’s best friend, a double play.
Sometimes terms are about strength … an “Iron Man” is good; it means you play every game – Lou Gehrig was “The Iron Man” – or you play through injury or pain.
Sometimes terms imply weakness. Back in the day in baseball, “a six-inning wonder” was a starting pitcher who could only go six innings, then would hit “the wall” and have to come out for a reliever. In today’s game, if your pitcher gives you six innings and only allows three runs, he gave you a “quality start” and is a millionaire by contract. A “batting practice pitcher” has lost his fastball, gets hit hard and throws “cookies” to the batters.
“Mr.” before your name, generally, is a good thing. Basketball’s Jerry West was “Mr. Clutch” because he had a reputation for hitting shots when needed the most … in the clutch. Reggie Jackson was “Mr. October” because he came through with big performances in October in the World Series. But, “Mr. May” is bad, a derogatory swipe at Dave Winfield by Yankee owner George Steinbrenner, alluding to Winfield being a hot player in May and not delivering in the playoffs and series … an unfair characterization that stuck.
Talking smack, a poor fielding ballplayer is “butter fingers” or “stone fingers,” and an infielder who tries to make a back-handed pick and misses is said to employ “matador defense” as in: wave the cape and let the bull (or ball) pass. Complimentarily, Brooks Robinson and Ozzie Smith were “vacuums,” and gold glover Ken Reitz was “The Zamboni.”
If your relief pitching gives up too many runs and loses leads, instead of being “firemen” who put out fires, they are called “the arson squad.”
A batter with no power slaps at the ball for singles and is a “Punch and Judy” hitter. Easy-out hitters are called “meat,” but easy-to-hit pitches served up by hurlers are called “meatballs.”
Sometimes sports conversation is adapted and works into mainstream conversation. I know a 4 ½-year-old named Dawson who listened to old guys talking about their favorite teams. One Yankee fan was saying the Red Sox were “the bad guys” in their rivalry, and now this little guy comes out with, “Mondays are the Red Sox of the week.” Ya gotta love kids … and sports fans and their language.
What are your favorite sports terms? Let me know at mike.blake@mountvernonnews.com
