|No way, know how|
By Bob Halloran
Special to Page 2
I work at the Worldwide Leader in Sports. I watch a ton of sports. I eat, live and breathe sports. Still, I've discovered there's a lot about sports that I don't know:
I don't know what would happen to me if I took women's Tylenol.
I don't know what people mean when they say "the whole nine yards." Assuming it's a football reference, shouldn't the goal be to go "the whole 10 yards"?
How come Torii Hunter doesn't pronounce his name like Kaz Ishii? "Now batting: Tor-EE-ee Hunter!"
I don't know why "amn't" never made it as a contraction for "am not." "You are, too." "Amn't."
I'm not very clear on the muff rule, but what's worse is that neither are most kick returners. Don't you find it odd when a guy is back to return a kickoff and the ball hits his hands while he's standing at the two-yard line, then the ball goes into the endzone, so the player picks it up and has no idea if he's supposed to run the ball out, or if he's allowed to kneel down for a touchback? He's got one job to do. Shouldn't he know the rules?
I don't know any guy who's ever handwashed a sweater.
Is there anything other than a sports contract that's "incentive-laden"? Maybe when a guy takes a woman on a fourth or fifth date and allows her to order an appetizer, that dinner might be considered "incentive-laden."
I don't know why there's a rule against wearing shorts on the PGA Tour. Maybe if they promised to shave their legs like the women.
I don't know if there's a rule that says you have to take the ball out of the cup before the next guy putts his ball into the hole. If there isn't, I think I might just wait for the next guy to get my ball, too. I mean, as long as you're bending over anyway, thanks.
Do naysayers really say "nay"?
I don't know why they don't hold a soccer tournament in Nevada and call it FIFA Las Vegas.
When did car repairmen turn checking your oil into some kind of wine presentation? I love it when the mechanic comes over and rests the dipstick on his forearm as if he were some kind of sommelier showing you the label on an expensive bottle of wine. "Very nice, my good man. I think I'll have the WD-40 of 1998." "Excellent choice."
I don't know how effective martial arts really are. Every time I see them used in a movie, it takes about 100 blows before somebody gets knocked down.
I don't know why we say things like, "Barry Zito flirted with a no-hitter." Did he wink at it and say things like, "Hey, no-hitter, you're kind of cute. Did it hurt when you fell down from heaven?"
I don't know when this society got so lazy we can't even finish words. Things like street cred, pub, rep and even viszh. That's right, in an ESPNEWS meeting, someone used the monosyllabic version of "visuals." I think this all started when I was in high school taking Western Civilization and the kids called it West Civ. You know what I called it? HISTORY!! It was the class just before Eng.
I don't know why a computer keyboard doesn't have a "you know what I meant" key for the times when you type espn.col and it sends you to some firewall or "site does not exist" page. I just want to be able to hit a key that says: "C'mon, you know what I meant."
I don't know why there aren't pop-up billboards on the highway like the pop-up ads on the information highway. Wouldn't it be cool to see some billboard just spring up and tell you where the nearest Roy Rogers is?
When a quarterback gets hurt in the first quarter of a game, does the win or loss count in his overall record? Does it matter if he gets hurt in the third quarter and not the first?
I don't know if it makes me special, but sometimes I sit on my bed and put both pant legs on at the same time.
I had no idea until I saw it in print twice recently that "milquetoast" isn't spelled "milktoast." What the heque is up with that? This one I looked up for you. Turns out it comes from an English comic strip created by Harold Webster in 1924. The character he created, Casper Milquetoast, was a timid and retiring man.
Tell me you knew this. Marat Safin's sister is Dinara Safina. Apparently, the Russians add an "a" at the end of a last name for the girls. Anna Kournikova just might have a brother named Alexi Kournikov.
Sex or a foot massage? Sometimes I honestly don't know.
I don't know when the phrase, "They can put a man on the moon …" will be replaced by something like, "They can put a microchip in my head" or "They can make a cell phone the size of a computer." We really need our cliches to keep pace with technology.
Sex or a foot massage? Sometimes I honestly. Oh forget about it. My feet feel fine.
Bob Halloran is an anchorman for ESPNEWS.