Archive for the ‘Language and sports’ Category

Meanwhile, in Reykjavik

May 20, 2024

Joel B. Levin has sent me e-mail from a stopover in Reykjavik, where he enjoyed a tour “to see and smell sulfurous hot water at the original Geysir” and was treated to a viewing of the wrestlers statue outside the Geysir Glíma Restaurant. So, knowing my interest in artworks and also in men’s bodies, JBL sent me his photos of the sculpture:


(#1) Side view of the Glíma wrestlers


(#2) Front view of the Glíma wrestlers

At least four things here: the Viking sport of Glíma; the statue’s association with the restaurant; the statue as artwork; and the problematics of intimate contact between men’s bodies in wrestling.

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A Promethean hepatical

April 26, 2024

The liver. Patent medicine. Greek mythology. Advertising. The illustrator’s art. All together now.

In the hands of French illustrator Charles Lemmel (1899 – 1976), the task of devising a poster to advertise a hepatical (a patent medicine for maladies of the liver) somehow fixed on the myth of Prometheus, punished by Zeus (for having stolen fire from Olympus and given it to humans) by being chained, naked, to the side of a mountain and subjected to endless hepatophagy: every day, Zeus’s eagle feasts on the Promethean liver, which then regrows for the next day’s torture.

Not, you might have thought, an ideal theme for a medicine ad; but look what Lemmel did with the idea in the poster (from the 1930s):


(#1)  Lemmel presents Hepatior as a rest and relief from the pain of hepatic ailments, a pain like that of Prometheus’s aquiline torment; meanwhile, he elevates the real-life sufferer by depicting the suffering Prometheus as a hot hot muscle-hunk and also a curly black-haired Greek dude — who is smiling and winking at us through the ordeal, reassuring us that it’s all a joke

That’s quite an artistic performance, also soft porn at several levels (extravagant body display, proud masochism). I happen to think it’s deeply silly, but enjoyable in its crudeness.

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Howdy Out

March 11, 2024

The second installment of my adventures with Howdy Boy, aka Troy Anderson (Stanford ’89/’90). In the first installment (my 3/8 posting “Howdy”), with the folksy-friendly salutation “Howdy”, he introduced himself as a student in my gigantic 1989 syntax course — and thanked me for not flunking him. Now, I have a passionate interest (both personal and scholarly) in people’s lives — their daily lives and their life histories — so when I learned that Troy was not only a Stanford football player (a huge guy who looks like the offensive tackle he was at Stanford) but also a high-ranking Go player, now a business executive, who got a BA in anthropology, and as a member of the Coquille tribe in Oregon compiled a dictionary of its lost language, Miluk, for his MA thesis in linguistics, well, I was totally intrigued. We embarked on learning about each other.

Meanwhile, there was the almost flunking out. I wrote him:

It [has] occurred to me that if there was any chance of your flunking out, it would have been because you were juggling too many balls at once, always a danger for very smart manic multi-taskers, as you obviously were at the time (and probably still are).

(I’ll return to the barely not flunking out below). And I added:

I haven’t been able to piece together your history in recent years, so if you could fill me in some, I’d like to hear about it. I might try to talk you into letting me write about you on my blog. (You can sample my blog at www.arnoldzwicky.org.)

Troy turned out to be extraordinarily open in his response — giving me an inventory of major life events, some quite personal in nature, offering to supply further details, and inviting me to post whatever I wanted. An attitude that resonates with the way he presents himself; as I wrote to him a little while later:

you’re a sunny person; your most natural facial expression is a smile of pleasure... I take that disposition to be a sign of a way of being, a moral quality — of openness, of empathy, of enthusiastic commitment. In any case, whether you know it or not, you project a kind of niceness (despite your imposing body) that has surely served you well in life

Clearly, I appreciated his brand of charm, despite his being so startlingly unlike me (except for sharing linguistics, that sunny presentation of self, and serious moral commitments).

But then, more or less in the middle of the inventory, came a swerve and a surprise.

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Two tennis-playing Zwickys

September 12, 2023

My old friend Ellen Sulkis James, musing on my name, e-mailed today:

I just read about someone else whose last name is Zwicky —  think it was someone involved with tennis.

Memories are often fugitive and hazy. Perhaps that’s what’s going on here. My searches for people named Zwicky with a tennis connection pulled up only two, both of them most unlikely to have come to ESJ’s attention: the investment banker Daniel Zwicky, who’s billed as an avid tennis player now and, when young in Switzerland, competed at a national level; and the Molson Coors IT specialist Michelle Zwicky, who was a notable tennis player in college two decades ago.

Brief notes on the two of them, for the Page on this blog on my postings about Zwickys of note.

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Rowing on the river

September 6, 2023

From my old friends Bonnie and Ed — Benita Bendon Campbell and her husband Edward Campbell — a Jacquie Lawson birthday e-card for me in which the Biglin Brothers (two muscular young men in a Thomas Eakins painting) row (on the Schuylkill River, the river of my childhood) for the prize of a birthday cupcake (with a purple banner) — to a noisy band rendition of “Happy Birthday”. Deeply satisfying.


(#1) The Lawson version of the Biglins

And now: the Biglins in real life, and (with a dose of homoeroticism) the painter Eakins.

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The news for penises: the Buffalo Bills original logo

September 5, 2023

From cartoonist Bob Eckstein’s The Bob newsletter of 9/5 “Back to School BONUS EDITION”, in a section on “The Worst NFL Logos” (published in Run Your Pool), about the original Buffalo Bills logo:


The original Buffalo buffalo

The old water buffalo was so unassuming, so unexpected, you thought, watch out! What are they up to? It was the only sports logo with the outline of genitals. With the understated white dot for an eye, I contend it was sport’s funniest logo … ever. We lost that.

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The vipers of Santa Clara County

August 19, 2023

I wrote on Facebook a little while ago:

Just heard on a tv public service announcement from Santa Clara County: … Watch for walkers and vipers. (Ah, that must have been: bikers. Fortunately, vipers are sparse in the county.)

Follow-up: there seem to be plenty of Dodge Vipers in the county, also Pit Viper Sunglasses. And we have the Silicon Valley Vipers quadball team. According to the US Quadball site: “quadball is a mixed gender contact sport with a unique mix of elements from rugby, dodgeball, and tag”. (Until 2022 it was known as quidditch. Yes, that quidditch. Players must have a broomstick between their legs at all times. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.)


Logo of the Silicon Valley Vipers quadball team

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The football story

July 30, 2023

Following up on my 7/27/23 posting “Illusory penguins”, in which the illusory penguins were actually football tackle sleds, which I admitted to actually having crashed into, Ellen Kaisse wrote in e-mail:

I was a little surprised that you had [used football tackle sleds] — did you play middle school or high school football? Or do they have these at some gyms? They strike me as possibly falling into a similar category to those giant ropes you are supposed to fling up and down, which I have done a couple of times. Didn’t garner my allegiance as a training method.

(I have, just now, posted a short story of mine, a piece of fictobiography about those goddam climbing ropes: “Enough rope: A short story”.)

My response to EMK  on 7/27:

I think I’ve told this story on my blog, but it’s an embarrassing moment in my life.

But it seems that I haven’t, or at least that I’ve been unable to search it out. So here’s another piece of fictobiography, as told to EMK a few days ago (writing about events at this distance means the stories have been shaped and re-shaped in incalculable ways). Below the line:


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Golf caps

July 23, 2023

Just working through my response to a comment on a posting of mine (from earlier today), which took me to some new places. Innocently falling into the question of what a golf cap is, something of a morass in the world of categorization and labeling (that, at least, is a recurrent subject on this blog, with a Page here about my postings about it).

So: the posting of mine is “Collard shirts: the backstory”, on golf club dress codes, and the comment came from Robert Coren:

[quoting:] Golf courses usually only permit baseball caps (clean and not beaten up) or straw hats to be worn by players.

[RC:] This surprises me, as it does not seem to include what is generally called a “golf cap”.

It occurred to me that these sites think of golf caps as a separate but related species to baseball caps, rather than viewing them as a subtype of baseball caps (as I was inclined to do).

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Collard shirts: the backstory

July 23, 2023

From my 7/21 posting “Collard shirts”:

Just went past me on Facebook, a funny-mistake posting (which I didn’t immediately save and now can no longer find) in which a dress code for men stipulates that they must wear a collard shirt (for collared shirt — that is, no t-shirts or tank tops allowed).

Ah, but FB keeps doggedly re-posting old stuff, so the original image has come around again:

No, I don’t know which golf course this is from, but that turns out not to be particularly important, because this mis-spelling is quite common in the world of golf club dress codes.

First, notes on golf course dress codes. Then three examples of such codes (from specific golf clubs) that require collard shirts.

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