For this column, I’m going to take it one word at a time. I’m going to give 110 percent. I’m going to take a page out of
the old playbook and give some great
individual effort.
I feel like a warrior, and my competitive juices are really flowing today…all over my keyboard, desk, shirt, etc.
My grammar and spelling know their place on the team, have to stick to their fundamentals, and cannot — I repeat — cannot be intimated.
So watch out; this could be the turning point of the column.
Gut-check time.
Crunch time.
Yes, the dreaded sports cliché. One of the sportswriter’s biggest nightmares.
So I thought I would take some time
and produce some random thoughts
about clichés.
If I had the heart of a champion, could I then have lightning-quick reflexes, a nose for the ball and a rifle for an arm?
Memo to fans: The best players that you’ve never heard of will stay that way until mentioned, and thus, their title will be removed.
I love the fact that the ball game you were watching can become a whole new ball game, even though it’s still the same ball game.
I’m always proud of an official making a good call because they were right on top of it…from 15 yards away.
Damn that clock for being both an ally and an enemy.
Hold on, I’m really feeling it now. I’m running like a well-oiled machine, en route to blowing the game wide open.
Am I putting on a clinic yet?
How exactly does a team not play to win, but also not play to lose?
I think I know a reason why.
They must not have their heads in
the game.
Yep, that must be it.
It certainly looks like the nail in the coffin, and I think I hear the bus warming up with some giant, fat lady on it.
But, seriously, sports need clichés — no matter how stupid they sound, or how much fun they are to play with.
One of the reasons is that no matter how much the games change over the years, structurally they remain the same.
Repetitive plays and actions beget repetitive responses.
Would anyone disagree that Babe Ruth was on top of his game when he hit 60 home runs in 1927? So when Barry Bonds hit 73 in 2001, the fact that he was at the top of his game had been reduced to another tired cliché.
But how else would you describe it? How hard would it be to come up with
a new phrase for the same action
every time?
Let’s see…
Barry Bonds was at the forefront of a previously undiscovered plateau in his career.
Nope.
Barry Bonds had a career year.
Cliché.
This has been his breakout
season.
Cliché.
My explanation for the rampant use of clichés in sports is that clichés are comfortable and accepted. Why mess with that?
So for as much fun as we poke at them, realize that they are an essential part of sports, and without them John Madden might have to refer to Mike Vick’s unlimited potential as inexhaustible aptitude, or absolute potency or vast facility.
Yikes.
Nevertheless, to conclude, here are my top five favorite clichés:
5) He can flat out play.
4) You can feel the electricity in the air.
3) There’s no “I” in team.
2) It’s a game of inches. And…
1) He always gives 110 percent.
That’s right, you can’t stop me, but you sure as heck might be able to contain me. ‘Cause after this column I’m sure I’ve sealed my fate, and I think I see the faithful readers heading for the exits.

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