Sometimes it seems that almost all Americans either play sports or watch them. Because competition occupies such a central place in American life and imagination, we hear a kind of democratic poetry in the sporty metaphors that make our English language so athletic. These phrases and expressions are vivid emblems of the games that we, as a people, watch and play. 

The grandest of all celebrations of sport is the Olympic games, named for Mount Olympus, a mountain in northern Greece on which the gods dwelled. The ancient Olympics were held every four years between August 6 and September 19 during a religious festival honoring Zeus, chief of the gods. Ancient historians measured time by the four-year increments between Olympic Games, which were known as Olympiads. The 2024 Paris summer games will begin this coming Friday. 

Let’s take a look at one knockout Olympic sport whose metaphors pervade our language: Straight from the shoulder, boxing metaphors pull no punches in our phrases. When fate has us on the ropes and hits us with a low blow in a knockdown, drag-out fight, we can take it on the chin, get knocked for a loop, go down for the count, and throw in the towel or sponge. Or we can take the gloves off, throw our hat in the ring, roll with the punches, beat our opponent to the punch, come out swinging, and be saved by the bell.

Would you believe that the expression ducks in a row, meaning “all the details in order,” comes from bowling? Early bowling pins were often shorter and thicker than modern pins, which led to the nickname ducks. Hence, having one’s ducks in a row originally meant having all of the bowling pins organized and properly placed before sending the next ball down the lane.

The original red herring was a strong-smelling fish that the fox hunters of Merry Old England would drag across the fox’s trail to confuse the hounds and give the fleeing quarry a sporting chance. From that ritual, which Oscar Wilde condemned as “the unspeakable in search of the inedible,” the meaning of red herring has broadened to signify a misleading statement that diverts our attention from the real issue.

Even cockfighting contributes to the poetry of our daily prose. From the cockpit (yes, the modern meaning of the word derives from the cramped arena of flying feathers), we gain several modern metaphors, including “get your hackles up” and “well-heeled.” If the going gets rough, people can become crestfallen. Crestfallen, meaning “defeated or dispirited,” does not refer to the act of dropping one’s toothpaste. As victory approaches, the crest of a fighting cock rises, deep red and rigid. But when defeat is imminent, the crest droops — and the bird becomes crestfallen.

Okay, sports fans and Olympics junkies. How many sports can you find hidden in the following passage? It’s a slam dunk (basketball) and a drop kick (football) that you employ many of these expressions in your everyday conversations. The ball’s in your court (tennis):

When the situation is up for grabs, you must knuckle down, hold the line, call the shots, hit the bulls eye, get the ball rolling, and take the bull by the horns with no holds barred. Otherwise, you may end up jumping the gun, not up to par, down and out, out in left field, behind the eight ball, barking up the wrong tree, coming a cropper, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker, lock, stock, and barrel, and facing a sticky wicket.                     

Answers

Eighteen sports are represented: 

When the situation is up for grabs (basketball), you must knuckle down (marbles), hold the line (football), call the shots (billiards), hit the bulls eye (archery), get the ball rolling (soccer), and take the bull by the horns (rodeo), with no holds barred (wrestling).. Otherwise, you may end up jumping the gun (track), not up to par (golf) down and out (boxing), out in left field (baseball), behind the eight ball (pool), barking up the wrong tree (coon hunting), coming a cropper (horse racing), taking the bait hook, line, and sinker (fishing), lock, stock, and barrel (shooting), and facing a sticky wicket (cricket).

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On Saturday, August 3, 2:30 pm, I’ll be presenting “A Feast of Words” at the Mission Hills-Hillcrest Library, 215 West Washington St. Admission is free. I’d love to meet you there.

Please send your questions and comments about language to Richard Lederer.