ERR-OR. Sentence Fragment.

On the eve of Super Bowl CCXCVII, let us take a moment to examine a particularly fascinating aspect of sports broadcasting, one that many people typically digest unaware, like the thousands-plus calories present in a typical McDonald's value meal.

Recall the last sporting event that you either watched on TV or listened to on the radio. Can you still hear the voices of the announcers and color analysts who were calling the play-by-play and providing commentary on the competitors' current winning streak, assist-to-turnover ratio, or ballpark-adjusted O.P.S.? Excellent.

Now, pretend for a moment that you were deaf, and were watching the same sporting event with closed-captioning on. What does the close-captioning feed look like? Perhaps something like this?

Allen to Garnett on the block. Better hurry. Kicks it out to Pierce and-- batted away by Iverson! Recovered by Perkins, but a 24-second shot-clock violation.

Or this?

Two out, bases loaded for Ortiz. Ortiz hitting .352 with runners in scoring position. This Yankee crowd getting a little uneasy. Sabathia into the stretch. The pitch. Line shot down the first-base line! One run in. Ellsbury right behind. Nady having trouble getting it out of the corner. Pedroia rounding third, the throw to the plate. Not in time! And the Red Sox take a 5-4 lead on a bases-clearing triple by David Ortiz.

Now, riddle me this: if you were to transcribe the play-by-play commentary for an entire sporting event and hand it into your high school English teacher, how many boxes of red pens would he or she have to buy (assuming Costco bulk quantities) to elevate the grammar to an acceptable level?

Indeed, most sports announcers speak in sentence fragments, and I think that this is something we easily accept because those fragments are mostly descriptive in nature and complement what we can otherwise plainly see (or hear) about the event and situation in question. There does appear to be some variation from sport to sport, however.

Referencing the above examples, I've found that most baseball commentators frequently omit the word "is" (and "there is") from their sentences, even in between plays when there is no action to describe and including the "is" would produce a complete, grammatically-sound sentence. (e.g., "Ortiz hitting .352 with runners in scoring position.") Basketball announcers, by contrast, seem to have a tendency to end their sentences in nouns that directly reference a rule of the game that has just been applied (e.g., "Recovered by Perkins, but a 24-second shot-clock violation" or "Roy drives through the lane, and a foul!") And although I haven't watched enough football to pick up on any patterns (maybe I can use Joe Buck's cross-sport announcing as a constant), tomorrow's Super Bowl may provide an ample opportunity if and when the Steelers find themselves up by 47 points.

In closing: if you're planning on taking the TOEFL, please be careful not watch any sports, because they will cause you to fail.

Next time: transcribing movie trailers, and the hilarity that ensues.

Exercising the Right to be Arbitrary, Episode #391

Today, whilst purchasing a decanter at Ye Olde Crate & Barrel, I encountered a very large point-of-sale console that happily offered to process my credit card transaction. Its dimensions were approximately 16 inches wide by 12 inches tall, and it prompted me to sign for my purchase within a box that was approximately 10 inches wide by 6 inches tall. This seemed excessive, so I decided to draw a giant smiley face above my signature.

The cashier seemed amused. She asked me whether I did this all the time. I said no, this was the first time I'd done it.

Then I pillaged the Sweet Factory.

How to Make a Speculative Documentary About the Apocalypse

Well, this week is Armageddon Week on the History Channel, and as the owner of a month-old plasma TV, that means it's time to watch a bunch of fiery, high-definition explosions bathe my living room in a hearty warm glow. The week's lineup includes an in-depth analysis (and CGI re-creation!) of the events depicted in the book of Revelation, and exposé on The Bible Code, and no fewer than thirty-seven treatments of Nostradamus' verses. As a child who kept the crushingly vacuous boredom of church at bay by reading the Book of Revelation over and over, I am So. There.

Now, you'd think that producing a show about Armageddon could carry a hefty price tag, what with all of the CGI artists you'd have to hire to animate a lamb with seven eyes and seven horns, gravely wounded and bleeding profusely "as It had been slain" (Revelation 5:6), not to mention the crazy Bacchaen woman riding the Beast with seven heads and ten horns. (I mean, there's a lot of careful decision-making involved when it comes to allocating the horns across the heads. Does each head get a horn? Which heads get more than one horn? For the heads with multiple horns, are the horns symmetrically arranged?) Alas, it is not so. In fact, just about any ol' Joe with a digital camcorder and an iBook can easily throw together their own end-of-days TV special by following these simple guiding principles:

1. Hire the most sinister-sounding narrator you can find. Test their worth by having them read Goodnight Moon and determining whether the child's head rotates a full 360 degrees in your mind.


2. Include several shots of a modern U.S. city being hit with one or more fiery projectiles streaking out of the sky. Limit the voiceover content to vague descriptions of "absolute destruction" and "complete chaos" -- do not attempt to describe which city it is, what the projectiles are, or what is generally going on.


3. Whenever you are filming something benign (e.g. some children playing Four Square), shake the camera violently to indicate that a massive earthquake is sweeping the entire planet as the Final Battle rages in the heavens.


4. Occasionally punctuate the narration with a random Bible verse (not necessarily one from the Book of Revelation or having anything to do with Armageddon), preferably voiced by a retired Shakespearean actor.
   
   "For where two or three are gathered in my name,
   there am I among them."
   -- Matthew 18:20
   Ensure that the verse appears on-screen as it is read. Use wet, hand-written ink on a yellowed scroll if you can.


5. Make at least one mention of Nostradamus, and show him to be an ominous-looking, age-worn man with a beard, a funny hat, and a crystal ball. Helpful hint: add pupil-less, glowing eyes for effect.
   
   


6. Ensure that the soundtrack features a full-bodied choir chanting something ominous in Latin, Sanskrit, or some other ancient language. If you are unable to translate a phrase such as "four the horseman blacken the sky and sunder the earth," Google the language of your choice in conjunction with the word "phrases" and use whatever result you get by clicking the I'm Feeling Lucky button.


7. Consult various subject-matter experts for their thoughts on the Book of Revelation, the current situation in the Middle East, nuclear arms races, and global warming, but do not mention or display their names, titles, or qualifications at any time.


8. If at any point you feel that you are running out of material, keep cutting back to the shot of the anonymous U.S. city getting blown up by unspecified fiery projectiles. Show this scene in slow-motion or with negative coloration to lend it a sense of variety.