The return of baseball season will also bring to light one of America’s (and really, all of humanity’s) favorite pastimes: heckling.
Call it “trash-talking,” if you must. Or “getting in your opponent’s head.” Or “irritating your opposition to the point that he eventually punches you in the face.”
Now you’re getting the general hang of it.
Talk is a natural part of any sport, or really anything that involves competitive activity. I can still remember the first time I heard a genuinely clever line at a game — I can’t attribute it because the originator might sue me (or at the very least complain to my parents), but the line was, “Don’t choke, kid — the paramedics are on break.”
This was at a high-school game.
It’s a hilarious part of life in general, this form of communication, and certain athletes are legendary for their prowess. After all, who can forget Reggie Miller’s withering stare at Spike Lee in Madison Square Garden?
(OK, so maybe I’m the only one who remembers.)
Fans who are clever enough might even gain something of a reputation. In my section at Bryant-Denny Stadium this past year, a leather-lunged guy shouted so many off-the-wall things so frequently, it became part of game-day tradition. His best line, upon seeing a penalty flag after a big play: “That better be a bag o’ nachos, ref!”
It isn’t just in sports, of course — contentious government meetings often feature heckling and running commentary from the gallery. Even church services — in the right setting — can be settings for the low grumble of hecklers.
Attempts at clever heckling can go too far, obviously: Recently, Rutgers basketball coach Fred Hill found himself in hot water for too much profanity and shouting at a university baseball game (note: as of the writing of this column, it was unknown what the fallout of this incident would be, but it should be noted that his bosses were already looking for reasons to can the guy for being lousy at his job).
It’s tempting for me to blame Duke for this phenomenon. Duke’s students (the always loathsome “Cameron Crazies”) were the first student section I remember receiving notoriety for creating a “rousing home atmosphere” that intimidated visiting players, coaches and fans. More recently we’ve seen evidence of interaction between players and fans on a level that goes way beyond heckling and becomes something much more dangerous.
Those, it seems, are the exceptions to the rule. Most results from heckling on the part of fans are at best hysterical and at worst irritating.
One of my new favorites: A friend of mine once had seats in Atlanta a few rows above the home dugout. In a crucial late-game situation, Braves manager Bobby Cox — a gruff individual somewhere between 60 and 2,000 years old — consulted with pitcher Tom Glavine on the mound, ultimately leaving him in the game … long enough to surrender two hits and a three-run home run.
Cox finally trudged out to the mound to relieve Glavine. On his way back, my friend shouted, “Three batters ago, Bobby!”
“[Bleep] you,” was Cox’s reply.
That’s a story that stands the test of time.
Post a Comment
