Lingo

Clare hates it when Hawk Harrelson says a batter with a 2-0 or 3-0 count “is in the catbird seat,” courtesy of the late, great Red Barber.  Clare’s still young, so she may yet develop an appreciation of baseball language the way I have.

I love how a pitcher wants to get the ball into the batter’s kitchen but never the wheelhouse; how it’s better to hum that pea than feed your gopher (ball); and while it’s always fun to touch them all, a well-placed Baltimore chop is a thing of beauty to behold.  One of my prized possessions is the third edition of The Dickson Baseball Dictionary.  Where else could I get the definition of “anvil chorus” (loudmouth fans) or “Sunday pitch” (the best one in a pitcher’s arsenal)?

Compare this to the language of football.  Forget that they’ve stolen terms like “homerun” and “centerfield” or the whole George Carlin routine comparing terms from the respective sports.  On second thought, keep in mind the sacrifice vs. the blitz and then listen to Jon Gruden, the NFL coach-turned-commentator who did color on the Bears-Jets game Monday night.  Gruden speaks a language I’ll never understand.  It’s all double and triple zones or low stunts right or some combination thereof.  Give me a can of corn to a real ball hawk any day.