Lost in Translation - Vol. I

I shouldn't be saying this, but I often feel like sports reporters are obsolete. Not that they don't captivate us with random top ten lists, or intrigue us with up to the minute tweets from the smelly stall in the Cav's locker room, or boggle our minds with statistics that would numb the brain of Sir Ronald Aylmer Fisher. What? He's a famous statistician. Ok, so I had to look that one up. So what.

Something I never have to look up to be certain of the utter irrelevance is any quote...by any pro athlete...in any morning sports page. These guys never say a thing, yet today's reporters seem content to mop the mental vomit from these players' lips like creepy mama birds tending nest. Apparently regurgitation trumps follow-up questioning...but I digress.

I'm here to offer the miracle cure. I guess I'll call it Lost in Translation, an exercise many of us perform daily (not that, sicko) that I'll attempt to put in print from time to time. My goal is to cut through the crap for you guys. So, I scoured the sports pages for today's most lackluster quotables and put them through the old translation machine...screw you, Babel Fish.


Mark Sanchez on the looming battle to be the Jets' starting signal caller:  "I'm really having fun." 
Translation: "I'm really looking forward to carrying Geno's jock this season."

Michael Vick on his future in the NFL: 
"I have a couple more years left."
Translation: "I have a couple more years left before I'm flat broke and drunk in Newport News."

Judge Kathleen McHugh after handing down a 30-day sentence to Chad Johnson for violating probation: 
"You should thank your lawyer. He did a great job for you."
Translation: "You're a garden variety douche bag. Ever thought of a name change?"

Wes Welker on being able to speak his mind in Denver: 
"I feel like I can be myself a little more for sure."
Translation: "The Patriot way is for pansies."

Aaron Rogers on his future in the NFL: 
"I played eight (seasons), I think I can play eight more."
Translation: "Must...beat...Brett...at
everything...related...to...football...life...and...texting."

Matt Birk on boycotting the White House visit with the his Baltimore Ravens teammates: 
"I wasn't there. I am active in the Pro-Life movement and I felt I couldn't endorse that in any way."
Translation: "There's a clear connection between football and abortion. My publicist told me so."

You Can Speak Pittsburghese!!

By: C.G. Morelli

Pensivanians from the Sahside to Sliberty, from Sharteers Crick on over to the Strip are prolly gearin’ up for an Arn City celebration on Sunday. I’m sure Stillers fans would love to sit on the stoop come lunch time Monday with a cold bottle of pop and a few sammitches and relive what was an 11^th victory this season for Da Burg.

‘Course yunz should all know these loyal fans haven’t cried that’s it, Fort Pitt just yet. They know the black and gold has a tough one ahead of ‘em.

Now, if I didn’t know better I’d have to conclude the preceding paragraph had undergone the sloppiest editing process in journalistic history. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: this is a most ancient and revered language that is commonly used by a tribe of people known to inhabit a place called Pittsburgh.

It is a language that has both enticed and beleaguered me for years. But now, as the playoffs approach, I am ready to make amends with it. I am ready to offer you the chance to master the language of Pittsburghese right here at The Sporting Scribe.

Remember when your Spanish teacher told you back in high school the best way to learn a language is through application. I never thought I’d ever use that line. But hey, what better way to learn Pittsburghese than by studying a few of the most popular phrases you’d expect to hear from a Stiller’s fan during the big game Sunday? Therefore, I present you with:

A Stillers Fan’s Pittsburghese Pocket Dictionary: Concise Version

A-

Arn City – n. Iron City

            As in, “Hey Pack, you’re about to take an Arn City arse-whoopin’!”

B-

Babushka – n. a bandanna

As in, “Good thing it’s freezin’ in Dallas, so Ben can wear his ridiculous gloves and goofy babushka to represent Da Burg.

C –

Church Key – n. a bottle opener

            As in, “Give me the darn church key so I can polish off a few beers with my city chicken.”

City Chicken – n. fried and skewered pork or veal

Cuttent – v. could not

As in, “I cuttent believe yunz were crying about that Mike Wallace TD catch. Those refs were a couple a jags.”

D-

Da Burg – n. Pittsburgh

Dawn – n. the male name Donald

            As in, “Hey Rodgers, you’re startin’ to look like a goofier version of Dawn Knotts!”

E-

Et – v. to eat

            As in, “Et ‘em up, Stillers!”

G-

Gutchies – n. underwear

As in, “Hey Pack fans, don’t get your gutchies in a bunch just ‘cause our Stillers are about to treat your team like an old worsh rag.”

J-

Jag – n. a jerk

K-

Kennywood’s Open – adj. your fly’s down, buddy

As in, “Hey Jennings, Kennywood’s Open!” (Shouted moments before an unexpected pass bounces off the receiver’s hands in the end zone).

P-

P’toot – n. butt

            As in, “Polamalu’s prolly gonna knock Rodgers flat on his p’toot all day.”

Pensivania – n. Pennsylvania

Pop – n. a bottle of Coke

Prolly – adj. probably

S-

Sahside – n. South Side

Sammitches – n. sandwiches

Sharteers Crick – n. Chartier’s Creek

Sliberty – n. East Liberty neighborhood

Stoop – n. porch

Strip – n. the Strip District (wholesale center near the rivers)

T-

That’s it, Fort Pitt – adj. that’s all, folks

            As in, “Once Hines Ward knocked that defender on his p’toot I was like that’s it, Fort Pitt.”

W-

Worsh Rag – n. a wash rag

            As in, “I’m wavin’ this yellow worsh rag ‘cause some jag stole my Terrible Towel.”

Y-

Yaint – v. you are not

Yunz – n. all of you

            As in, “Yaint gonna tell me yunz’ll miss the game Sunday?!?”

Now that you know Pittsburghese, you’re free to root for Da Stillers using the proper vernacular…which, in this case, means happily leaving all the grammar rules you’ve learned since first grade at the front gate. Ah, the simple pleasures of the Steel City.