FArting
Lopes Up!
Silencing the salty tongue
Doug Haller
The Arizona Republic
Nov. 13, 2006 05:40 PM Profanity has deep roots in the sports landscape. It comes with the territory. Heated moments, heightened passion, high stakes - vocabulary is harder to control than perspiration under such conditions.
But that doesn't mean league executives aren't trying. The NBA is the latest organization to try and silence the salty tongue, sticking a no-tolerance pitchfork on player behavior, effective the first time Rasheed Wallace laced up his high-tops.
The emphasis is directed at whining more than cursing, but it's obvious profanity no longer has its run of the palace. Increased media coverage and corporate attention have turned sports officials into language police, endangering profanity's illustrious relationship with competition, for better or worse, until techs do us part.
"There's not a lot of leeway," Suns guard Steve Nash said of the NBA's watchful eye. "If you raise your arms or if you swear or even if you just complain, you'll get a technical foul. It just takes a lot of control. I think it also makes the game less colorful in some ways."
According to ESPN.com, officials whistled 67 technical fouls and ejected five players over the season's first nine days. In the same span last season they called 24 and tossed only one, causing players across the league to complain, albeit with better manners.
"I don't think I would've lasted 18 years with these no-tolerance rules," said former Pacers guard Reggie Miller, a classic complainer. "I was a hot head at times, and there would've been a lot of technical fouls thrown No. 31's way."
Profanity by no means is sports specific. In April, an Associated Press/Ipsos poll asked 1,000 adults about swearing. Seventy-four percent of Americans reported hearing profanity either frequently or occasionally; 66 percent thought swear words were used more often than 20 years ago; and 46 percent said they use profanity two times a week or more.
No one asked about profanity at sports events, but several incidents have produced national headlines over the years, including:
• Terry Cooney ejecting Boston ace Roger Clemens after the pitcher allegedly unleashed a flurry of f-bombs at the plate umpire during the 1990 American League Championship Series. Appealing the subsequent five-game suspension, Clemens hired a lip-reader to help prove his innocence. It didn't work.
• Dale Earnhardt Jr., getting fined $10,000 and docked 25 points, knocking him from first in the Nextel Cup standings, for cursing during a television interview after his 2004 win at Talladega Superspeedway.
• Boston University last month adopting a no-profanity policy at hockey games for coaches, players and fans. Similar rules exist at Ohio State and Wisconsin, causing one Boston student to complain to The Boston Globe, "Sports won't be fun anymore."
Earnhardt understands the crack down.
"With the money we get paid, it's not a bad idea to put us in check every once in a while," he said. "A lot of times, guys overreact and it's just because of the atmosphere around them and the people they have with them. It builds this sort of fantasy of who they think they are. I've been in that situation. I've caught myself acting like an ignorant jerk."
Quarterback Matt Leinart wore a microphone during the Cardinals' Monday Night Football game against the Bears. It marked the first time Leinart had done so during a game, but he wasn't nervous. He knew curses would come - and he knew they'd be edited.
"Unfortunately, I have a tendency to (swear) during a game just because that's how I am; I'm emotional and vocal," Leinart said. "I can understand what the NBA is doing, but at the same time, we're competing and in the heat of the battle that's what people do."
For that reason, NFL Films president Steve Sabol doesn't think people should judge athletes for their words during competition. He notes that presidents also cursed - "If you had to beep all the F-bombs in (Lyndon Johnson's) cabinet meeting, it would sound like a fork lift backing up," he said.
Sabol once asked former Bills coach Marv Levy about his salty vocabulary. Levy had studied at Harvard. He was known to quote Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott in the locker room before games. Yet, on Sundays, Levy had one of the NFL's worst mouths. His favorite curse: a slang word for chicken droppings.
Why?
"Under certain circumstances," Levy told Sabol, "profanity provides a release denied even to prayer."
Perhaps NBA officials should remember that the next time a Suns player lashes out or unleashes a barrage of expletives. Shawn Marion insists he got disciplined simply for waving off an official in frustration.
Asked about the incident days later, Marion said without hesitation: "That was some (expletive.)"
Doug Haller
The Arizona Republic
Nov. 13, 2006 05:40 PM Profanity has deep roots in the sports landscape. It comes with the territory. Heated moments, heightened passion, high stakes - vocabulary is harder to control than perspiration under such conditions.
But that doesn't mean league executives aren't trying. The NBA is the latest organization to try and silence the salty tongue, sticking a no-tolerance pitchfork on player behavior, effective the first time Rasheed Wallace laced up his high-tops.
The emphasis is directed at whining more than cursing, but it's obvious profanity no longer has its run of the palace. Increased media coverage and corporate attention have turned sports officials into language police, endangering profanity's illustrious relationship with competition, for better or worse, until techs do us part.
"There's not a lot of leeway," Suns guard Steve Nash said of the NBA's watchful eye. "If you raise your arms or if you swear or even if you just complain, you'll get a technical foul. It just takes a lot of control. I think it also makes the game less colorful in some ways."
According to ESPN.com, officials whistled 67 technical fouls and ejected five players over the season's first nine days. In the same span last season they called 24 and tossed only one, causing players across the league to complain, albeit with better manners.
"I don't think I would've lasted 18 years with these no-tolerance rules," said former Pacers guard Reggie Miller, a classic complainer. "I was a hot head at times, and there would've been a lot of technical fouls thrown No. 31's way."
Profanity by no means is sports specific. In April, an Associated Press/Ipsos poll asked 1,000 adults about swearing. Seventy-four percent of Americans reported hearing profanity either frequently or occasionally; 66 percent thought swear words were used more often than 20 years ago; and 46 percent said they use profanity two times a week or more.
No one asked about profanity at sports events, but several incidents have produced national headlines over the years, including:
• Terry Cooney ejecting Boston ace Roger Clemens after the pitcher allegedly unleashed a flurry of f-bombs at the plate umpire during the 1990 American League Championship Series. Appealing the subsequent five-game suspension, Clemens hired a lip-reader to help prove his innocence. It didn't work.
• Dale Earnhardt Jr., getting fined $10,000 and docked 25 points, knocking him from first in the Nextel Cup standings, for cursing during a television interview after his 2004 win at Talladega Superspeedway.
• Boston University last month adopting a no-profanity policy at hockey games for coaches, players and fans. Similar rules exist at Ohio State and Wisconsin, causing one Boston student to complain to The Boston Globe, "Sports won't be fun anymore."
Earnhardt understands the crack down.
"With the money we get paid, it's not a bad idea to put us in check every once in a while," he said. "A lot of times, guys overreact and it's just because of the atmosphere around them and the people they have with them. It builds this sort of fantasy of who they think they are. I've been in that situation. I've caught myself acting like an ignorant jerk."
Quarterback Matt Leinart wore a microphone during the Cardinals' Monday Night Football game against the Bears. It marked the first time Leinart had done so during a game, but he wasn't nervous. He knew curses would come - and he knew they'd be edited.
"Unfortunately, I have a tendency to (swear) during a game just because that's how I am; I'm emotional and vocal," Leinart said. "I can understand what the NBA is doing, but at the same time, we're competing and in the heat of the battle that's what people do."
For that reason, NFL Films president Steve Sabol doesn't think people should judge athletes for their words during competition. He notes that presidents also cursed - "If you had to beep all the F-bombs in (Lyndon Johnson's) cabinet meeting, it would sound like a fork lift backing up," he said.
Sabol once asked former Bills coach Marv Levy about his salty vocabulary. Levy had studied at Harvard. He was known to quote Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott in the locker room before games. Yet, on Sundays, Levy had one of the NFL's worst mouths. His favorite curse: a slang word for chicken droppings.
Why?
"Under certain circumstances," Levy told Sabol, "profanity provides a release denied even to prayer."
Perhaps NBA officials should remember that the next time a Suns player lashes out or unleashes a barrage of expletives. Shawn Marion insists he got disciplined simply for waving off an official in frustration.
Asked about the incident days later, Marion said without hesitation: "That was some (expletive.)"
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