Road Apples by Tim Sanders
Oct. 1, 2012

Serious talk

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These are difficult times. The national debt is ballooning toward $17 trillion, the work force is shrinking, entitlement spending is unsustainable, public education has become a joke, the world economy is in shambles, the Middle East is a tinderbox, and next month's election may well be the most important in our nation's history. But there is one issue, above all others, on which our society will either stand or fall. People are all talking about it, and when you visit a barber shop or a civic club, and see very serious, passionate people wiping tears from their eyes, furrowing their brows and discussing the matter heatedly, you know, without even asking, what they are talking about.

It is the Great American Issue. It is football. If you don't believe me, then stop a stranger at random (or at a stoplight, if you prefer), and ask him about the local school's curriculum. He will probably make a vague comment, like: “If it ain't working, they ort to call in a plumber like they done last year.” But if you ask him about that same school's football program, he will gladly launch into a litany of statistics, including the yards gained last week, both on the ground and in the air, the quarterback's completion rate, the number of seniors on the team, the weight of each and every player on the offensive line, the coach's win/loss record, and probably a little history about his previous coaching jobs.

Don't get me wrong, here. We all do it. And there is nothing wrong with enthusiastically supporting your team. Or teams, as the case may be. My big problem with football talk, especially college football talk, is when some of these coaches and players wind up on television, answering questions and explaining football as though it were nuclear physics. Which it ain't. Here are some examples of how they've learned to talk, and just what some of those doofus statements and tired cliches really mean:


COACH: That game was a good learning experience.

TRANSLATION: We lost.


COACH: We are in a building process.

TRANSLATION: Lost again.


COACH: This weekend we need to execute.

TRANSLATION: We will start with the referees.


COACH: We wouldn't be here today if not for our fans.

TRANSLATION: We've got four dozen of those little battery-operated gizmos stored in a case behind the bench.


PLAYER: We ain't taking nothing for granite. Their team has a lot of speed in the backfield.

TRANSLATION: The Little Sisters of the Poor have a tailback, Sister Mary Ignatius, who can run like a scalded cat.


COACH: We;'ve got to take care of the football.

TRANSLATION: You know, plenty of air, some neatsfoot oil, and a warm blanky at night.


COACH: This week in practice we're going back to fundamentals.

TRANSLATION: We're going to, once and for all, convince No. 14 that you can't dribble a football.

PLAYER: We just need to go out there and play our game.

TRANSLATION: Unfortunately, “our game” is tiddly winks.


COACH: We're taking it one game at a time.

TRANSLATION: As opposed to last year, when we scheduled all eleven of our games for the first Saturday in September. That didn't work out too well.


COACH: Our boys gave 110 percent out there today.

TRANSLATION: I'm a football coach, not a math professor.


PLAYER: We got to take it to the next level.

TRANSLATION: Coach says next weekend we'd be better off putting the fans out on the field and letting the team sit in the stands.


ANNOUNCER: Kentucky's marching down the field now. The coach must've got 'em fired up at halftime.

TRANSLATION: No, wait, that's the band!


REPORTER: He obviously came to play today.

TRANSLATION: Unlike his teammates, who came to watch the cheerleaders.


REPORTER: Coach, how do you feel that this 72-12 loss to the Galloping Moles of the Midwest Academy for the Blind will affect your job here at Silage State?

TRANSLATION: Don't hit me. That's the question they sent down from the broadcast booth.


PLAYER: Them turnovers killed us.

TRANSLATION: The team bus stopped at Arby's on the way to the stadium.


COACH: We have no apologies. Our boys left it all out there on the field today.

TRANSLATION: Either a stomach virus, or it might have been the turnovers.


ANNOUNCER: In football, three minutes is a lifetime.

TRANSLATION: So you have time to go to the fridge, or bake a cake, and then lock yourself in the bathroom and read Moby Dick.


ANNOUNCER: Looks like No. 53 completely missed a crtical block at the point of attack.

TRANSLATION: He was busy texting his stockbroker.


ANNOUNCER: No. 22 is overdue to break one.

TRANSLATION: Double helpings of Beanie Weenies at the training table again.


There are lots of other football cliches and euphemisms, like “he has an excellent work ethic,” “that was a real moral victory,” “they're gonna milk the clock,” and “he just laid a real Woody Hayes upside that boy's head.” You don't have to know what they mean, just memorize some of them so you'll sound like you know what you're talking about when you get into one of those profoundly serious football discussions with the guys. That's what I do.