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Tennis players and golfers must be wussies

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Humor Post #35 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

So I couldn’t sleep Thursday night and I wake up at like 3 AM and turn on my TV. Not much to see at that hour unless you’re interested in infomercials for football-shaped coffins with your favorite team’s colors and logos plastered all over them, which was pretty funny for awhile, but then it was just kind of pathetic, you know. It was enough to make me go back to sleep. Almost. Then I saw that the Australian Open was on. And there was this great match between Andy Murray (whose name I can spell) and Novak Djokavic (whose name I can’t spell). And even though there were some great shots and stuff the main thing that got to me was every time they were ready to serve, the crowd got real quiet and if there was the least little bit of noise, the announcer would come on and say, “Quiet, please” and everyone would shut up even more. And I thought to myself, “Crankenfuss, it sure seems like those players are pretty sensitive. They can’t take any noise? Any noise at all?” I couldn’t think of any other sport like that, unless you count the National Spelling Bee as a sport. Then I did. Golf! Yeah, I remember one time — though I can’t remember where — they kicked this guy off the course for taking a picture during a big putt or maybe he just yelled something like “In da hole!” Anyway, I remember the TV announcers talking about how rude and crude that spectator was and how he didn’t have any respect for the game.

Please don't breathe too loud or this guy will collapse.

Huh?

What about most every other sport? I like to watch pro football and basketball and most of the time I’m sure the players can hardly hear anything, the crowd is so loud. Yeah, when the home team guy is shooting a foul shot, the crowd gets quiet, but when it’s the other team, the crowd goes nuts, waving their arms, probably yelling stuff about the foul shooter’s mama, and generally acting like maniacs. How come the announcers don’t talk about those fans’ disrespect for the game? In baseball I don’t see how the pitcher can concentrate on anything with the crowd so out of control.

Is this how a tennis player responds to a cheer during his serve?

So I have one question about all this? How come tennis players and golfers are such wussies? Why don’t they just go ahead and play like every other person on a sports team? Maybe they should get their mommies out there to tell them to do their best. (But not while they’re putting or serving, of course. That would be rude.) Just askin’.

I mean, when I write my posts, I never do it in quiet. I have the TV on or the radio or the stereo or something. And on top of that, I have all those voices in my head that keep me from concentrating. So if I can do it, so can those tennis and golf superstars. Time to suck it up, gentlemen (and ladies). Get with the program. Bring on the noise.

from the Dude with the ‘tude, your truth teller and blogger supremo,
Dr. Crankenfuss

P.S. And yes, I did get back to sleep. Thank you for asking. It’s hard for me to get excited about much anything at 3:00 in the morning. I think I lasted probably 20 minutes.

Freak Speak

Let’s get excited like they do in Mexico

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Humor Post #34 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

English is a great language, I’ll say that right up front. First off, it’s probably spoken by more people than anyone else in the world. Now Chinese might be catching up but I’m pretty sure that since they speak English in India, good ol’ English is still on top. Second off, stuff sounds good in English. Songs sound good in English, movies and TV shows sound good in English, my jokes sound good in English, and hey, what else is there that really matters?

But what I’m really getting at is even though English is cool, it could still use a bit of tweaking. Especially with a couple punctuation marks I’ll be talking about today. That would be the question mark and the exclamation point. I never thought much about these two little guys till I started taking Spanish. And it was there that I found out that Spanish speakers have got two things right that we really should copy.

And don’t go telling me we shouldn’t be copycats. (BTW, where did the word “copycat” come from? Cats can’t even write, much less copy.) We copied pizza and ice cream from Italy and China and I don’t hear anyone complaining.

So anyway to get my ADD brain back on topic, here’s the way we ask a question in English:
Hey, Joe, whatcha know?
And here’s how they ask the same question in Spanish:
¿Oye, José, qué sabes?

Do you see a big difference?
No, no, banana head, I can see that the words are different. I’m talking about the punctuation. Yeah, that’s it. They put an upside down question mark at the beginning of the Spanish question. Now why do I like that? Because it warns you that the next sentence is going to be a question, that’s why. Just last week we were taking turns reading out loud from this novel in English class. (Our teacher is big on getting us to practice our “public speaking voice.”) And I was near the end of this sentence that went something like, “And then you’re going to the market and you’re going to talk to Maria?” But I didn’t see the question mark till I was almost at the end of the sentence and it didn’t sound right. If someone had warned me a question was coming up, I could have been prepared. In Spanish, I would’ve been.

They also do the same thing with exclamation points. If you see an upside down exclamation mark at the beginning, you know you’re going to act excited for the whole sentence. Look at these two examples:

With English punctuation:
“I love you incredibly, so much that it makes my heart ache and my eyes tear up to look at you!”

With Spanish punctuation:
“¡I love you incredibly, so much that it makes my heart ache and my eyes tear up to look at you!”

See the difference? It’s huge! In the first one you could be using a romantic, sexy voice and you think you’re supposed to act all sad. Then you see that ending punctuation mark and you have to come to a screeching half on the mushy stuff and start yelling the last few words. Not good. But in the second sentence, you get that warning so you’re all excited right from the get-go. By the time you get to “heart ache,” you’re practically ripping your heart out of your chest and by the end of the sentence, that girl would need Noah’s Ark. Now THAT’S what you could deliver if you knew what was coming.

So, to all of you people out there who can read — and I hope that’s a good percentage of you — if you know who I can write to ask about making this a new grammar law, I’d really appreciate it. I was thinking of writing my Congressman, but my mom says Congress never gets anything done except giving themselves pay raises so that’s probably not the way to go. But who’s in charge of punctuation out there? Guess this’ll take some real research. Maybe the Mexican or Argentinian government can help me. Hope they speak English.

from your gifted gabber, your seeker of sagacity (ooh, sagacity, whoo-hoo!), your middle school master of merriment,
Dr. Crankenfuss, the Dude with the ‘tude

Freak Speak

Don’t you go calling me a caffeine head! I’m just getting smarter, that’s all!

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Humor Post #32 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Some people might call me a little hyper. Those people would be right. But I don’t like to call it hyper. I call it “focused.” I mean, my brain zeros in one something and doesn’t let go, like a pit bull’s jaws. Of course then I have to let everyone know about that something whether they really want to hear about it or not. So I get called for interrupting or not being “on task” or whatever. Well, that’s not true. I AM on task, just not your task, okay?

So here I am again in one of my focused moods. And part of that is probably because I just part of an energy drink. Don’t tell my mom. I don’t think she’d be real cool with that. She lets me have coffee sometimes though. It’s really good, especially with whipped cream. But I’m getting off-topic again.

Anyway, the good thing is I just found out all that talk about energy drinks and coffee and caffeine being all bad for you is just a bunch of Hooey. (Notice that’s hooey with a capital H.) People trying to hold you back, that’s what it is. How do I know this? From this article, that’s how.

Now I admit I don’t get everything it’s saying there. I’m not a scientist, not yet anyway. But it seems to me that all those people going “No, no, no” to energy drinks and coffee oughta get their ducks in a row. (Attention–Brilliant insight coming! Why would ducks stay in a row anyway? Getting them there would be hard enough, but wouldn’t they like immediately waddle off somewhere? What a useless exercise that would be!)

Back to my thought. No, it looks like caffeine might be the ticket to success for me. I can feel myself getting smarter even as I write this. And it feels good. Hey, wait a minute. Is that a little earthquake I feel? Huh, in North Carolina? That can’t be. I look around for evidence. Nothing. No dishes shaking or anything. Hey, now I see what I’m feeling. It’s my hands. They have the jitters. I’m trying to hold them straight out without moving them. C’mon guys, calm down some, okay?

Okay, maybe I have gone a little too far on this caffeine. Too much of a good thing, ya know. I’ll have to get back to you. Soon as I chill a little.

Peace out from your jumpy junior genius,
Dr. Crankenfuss

Freak Speak

Let’s all be like Leonardo DiCaprio

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Humor Post #31 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Sometimes I like to watch these old black-and-white crime movies where the bad guy points a gun at somebody and says something like, “Touch my dame, ya’ big lug, and I’ll pump you full of lead.” And most of the guys in those movies have short names like Sam or Joe or Max — you know, cool, tough, punchy names that mean business: Ed or Jim or Roy or Al or Giovanni or Federico or… HOLD IT!! Just hold it right there, bub! Giovanni? Federico? Where’d they come from?

Europe, that’s where? Actually, Italy, to be exact. Apparently in Italy they don’t have names like we do. Their names are all foreign and fancy sounding. Like here if your name is Jake and you moved to Italy and you wanted to sound normal so people wouldn’t look at you funny when you told them your name, you’d call yourself Giacomo (ja KO mo). That’s their name for Jake.

Now I admit I’m more used to the American-type short names we always use. (And no, I’m not including “Crankenfuss.” You know that’s not my real name. It’s my nom de plume. (Don’t know that one, do you? That’s pen name in French.) I also know some people who have some pretty European sounding names, like Isabella and Olivia and Christopher. So maybe we’re changing to be more like them.

Well, I can think of someone who’s already used that tactic and it sure hasn’t hurt him. That would be Leonardo DiCaprio. He could be just good old Leo, but no, he likes being Leonardo. And you can’t argue with the results. I mean, practically everyone in the world has seen Titanic and for girls, that would be about six times each!

So I got interested in this and I did some web research to show how you can make your name turn into a really fancy sounding name by translating it into Italian. I put the European names first and made it where you can hear someone say them. (That someone is Daniel, who agreed to help me, and I said okay ’cause I didn’t know anybody else who could come even close to saying those names right. So if he says them wrong, it ain’t my fault, okay?) Then I made it so you have to guess what the American translation is for each name. I think you’ll be pretty surprised at how much cooler the European name sounds than the American one. Can’t help it, but that’s the way it is. So if you have one of those names on the right, maybe you should think about changing it. Just trying to be helpful.

This is super high tech, so I’ll tell you how it works. Read the Italian name on the left to yourself. If it’s kind of hard, just click on the name to hear how to pronounce it. Then guess what that name is in English. Click on the ???? in the English column to find out if you were right. I think you’ll be very surprised. And if you happen to have the exact name that comes up on the right, you’re in luck. Your new Italian name is all ready to go.

P.S. I know #6 (Louis la Colle) is in French. That’s because I couldn’t figure out how to translate the English name into Italian and the French translation was so cool, I used that instead.
BTW, thanks to Google Translate for helping me on this. And thanks to Maureen for setting up the source code.

FANCY  ITALIAN NAME ITALIAN NAME IN ENGLISH
Giuseppe Verdi ????
Federico Letto ????
Matteo Piatto ????
Michele Bicicletta ????
Francesco Banca ????
Louis la Colle ????
Maria Pelosa ????
Téodoro Testa ????
Milles Cocodrillo ????
Speranzina Cretine ????

So all I’m saying is if you got a name like Hairy Mary, maybe it would do you some good to change it to its Italian version, Maria Pelosa. It might even help you get a date. (Probably your first one, I would guess.)

from your I’ll-do-the-cooking-and-you-just-sit-back-and-enjoy-your-fancy-meal advisor and Truth Teller,
Dr. Crankenfuss

Freak Speak

I’m tired of tired sports clichés

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Humor Post #30 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Okay, I have a confession. One that I’m proud of. I like sports. Especially football. But I get kind of annoyed at some of the people who do the play-by-play announcing on TV and — I hate to admit it — some of the stuff the players say is kind of embarrassing. I don’t have a whole lot of time for this post since I have to do the rest of my (sigh) homework, but I’ll give it my best shot. I mean, it’ll be a war out there between the Crank and those announcers and players, but I believe in myself and I promise to leave everything on the field. This will be a marathon, not a sprint, but I know I’ll win ’cause I want it more. After all, on any given day a sixth grader can beat all those guys, can’t he? And if I play within myself, I think I can give ’em a clinic.

Have I made a good start on some of those clichés?

First I’ll go to one I’ve heard in real life, not on TV. Our P.E. teacher always likes to say, “There’s no i in team” when he’s saying we shouldn’t hog the ball. And I always want to say back, “But coach, there’s a me.” You know, like an m and an e. I haven’t done it though ’cause he might decide to sit on me and then all I’d be good for is to be tomorrow’s special at the IHOP. (I could also say, “But coach, there’s an i in win.” Of course, I haven’t done that either. Same reason.

Here’s one I didn’t figure out myself, but a friend (Rhymin’ Simon) told me about it. In basketball, if a guy shoots a thee-pointer, the announcer will say something like, “He threw up the rock from way downtown,” like downtown’s really far away. But hey, lots of the stadiums are already downtown so wouldn’t that be a close shot? Just askin’.

Just one more cliché for now. Players often say, “I’m giving it 110%.” (Actually, politicians say that a lot too, as in, “I’m 110% committed to staying in the race.”) Now everybody knows you can’t do anything more than 100%, so why stop at 110? Why not a thousand per cent? Or a million? Or to really prove you mean it, the player could say, “I’m gonna give it a million, gajillion, bazillion per cent. And that’s just in the first quarter!” (As for the Crankoid, I always give 100%, except when I’m donating blood.)

Well, I said that was my last one, but I have to finish this post with the tiredest sports cliché of them all — Dick Vitale. That guy makes my ears hurt. He’s like a circus clown who stole the mic from the MC.
“PTP, baby!”
“He dishes the rock.”
“He’s a diaper dandy!”
“I’m-a gonna be sick!”
(That last line isn’t his. It’s mine when he’s announcing a game.) The words are bad enough, but his voice is like an eight-year-old learning violin.

I better stop. I was feeling OK when I started this, but now I’m about to have a CCC (a cantankerous cranky conniption). Oh, no!! I’m sounding like Dick Vitale!

from your soon-to-be-recovered (he hopes) truth teller,
Dr. Crankenfuss