Vocabulary Lesson

I learned a new word this week from a third-grader, although it’s doubtful whether history’s greatest lexicographer, James Murray, whose life work was editing the Oxford English Dictionary, could vouch for its etymology.

After reading a short story, Molly’s Pilgrim, in which a young girl in a new school is made uncomfortably aware of the physical, cultural, and linguistic differences between her and her classmates, I gave the children three reading comprehension questions. The first, “Why did Molly want to leave her new school?” elicited this from Alli: “Because she was discluded.”

“Discluded?” I asked, wanting to make sure I had deciphered her handwriting correctly.

Yes. Alli confirmed it.

“I didn’t know discluded was a word,” I told her.

It is, Alli insisted with an imperiousness that unmistakably said that she was now the teacher and I the student.

I wonder if that’s how Boswell and Johnson got started.

Columbus Day

The music teacher today reminded the kindergarten class that even though today is the birthday of Christopher Columbus, we celebrated his life earlier in the week, on Monday. That was a holiday for many people but a half-day of school for them. Curious about what the children knew of the explorer, she asked them, "What is Columbus Day?"

"It's a short day," said one student, "and we don't have a lot of time to do our work."

She then gave the children some brief details on the life of Columbus, including the background on his trans-Atlantic voyage and fortuitous discovery of America. Upon completion of her narrative, one student raised his hand. "Wait," he asked, "he was a real person?"   

As part of the day's program, the music teacher taught the children a charming song about Columbus, with a sing-along refrain about "the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria." 

She also prepared a lesson that combined a song about the season with a simple dance step. Before beginning, and as a hint for that choreography, she asked the children what we do with the fallen leaves. "Call the lawn service," suggested one boy. "Get the blowers out," said a classmate. So much for the dance routine that would mimic the act of raking.

Spellbound

Who said spelling has to be dull? Back with the fifth grade yesterday, I gave the students their weekly test in the subject: 18 words, all ending in –able (lovable, likable, usable, etc.), plus three complete sentences, each with another –able word. For added fun, there were to be a couple of bonus words.

Before administering the test, I told the class about my own spellbinding misadventure. Back when I was in the fifth grade, I won a class spelling bee. Any small pride I took in the accomplishment immediately vanished when I learned that my reward was to be entry in a broader community contest at a local VFW post. That second spelling bee required wearing a jacket and tie, and on a Sunday afternoon!

Fast forward to the big day. Peevish about being forced to surrender my free time on the weekend and nervous about the competition, I lined up on the stage with the other children. Here came my first word: “desert.”  The spelling bee’s administrator put it in a sentence: “The desert is a large, dry area of land.”

“Desert,” I repeated. “D-E-S-S-E-R-T. Desert.”

Boing! The rude buzzer loudly proclaimed an incorrect response. Banished from the stage, I had to join the audience of proud parents through the interminable elimination rounds. Speeches praising the winner followed, along with photos of all of the contestants.

I never misspelled that word again, I told the class.

“But how can we remember “desert” and “dessert?” asked Kyle.

You always want a double helping of dessert, I told him, echoing the hint I received too late to be of use to me when I most needed it.

O.K., it was time for their test now. I dictated the 18 words and three sentences. Then, to enliven an expanded bonus round, I asked for volunteers. One-by-one, five different students came to the front of the classroom.  While I held an oversized children’s dictionary, each student in turn, with eyes closed, opened the dictionary and blindly pointed to a spot on the page.

The first bonus word is “eclipse,” I announced.

And so on for several additional words—“planet,” “counter,” “undertone,” and “practice”—stopping twice to veto words I thought too easy for fifth graders: “candy” and “oven.”

“Let’s keep going,” said the class. There was time for just one more—a super bonus word. I would choose. Can you guess the word?

The super bonus word is “dessert,” I said.

All but one student spelled it correctly.

My Non-Bucket Sports List

Athletic events, moments, concepts, and individuals I hope never to encounter in this life or the next

1. The NBA Dunk Contest
2. A conversation with a sabermetrician
3. The Pro Bowl
4. The  song “Centerfield” at a baseball game
5. Rex Ryan guarantees
6. The words  “baseball” and “conditioning” in the same sentence
7. Field of Dreams
8. Other over-romanticized glosses on baseball 
9. Motocross
10. Another story on TV ratings of sporting events
11. Mike Francesa
12. The Mad Dog
13. The X Games
14. The Indy 500
15. “Cotton-eyed Joe” at Yankee Stadium
16. John Feinstein
17. Field hockey
18. Beat reporters who ask postgame interview subjects, “How big/important/exciting/disappointed, etc. was...? ”
19. The World Series of Poker
20. Pitch-by-pitch replays
21. Slo-mo revolving, exploding logos after replays
22. Heaven-pointing athletes
23. Fireman Ed
24. Bracketologists
25. The Wave
26. Cameron Crazies
27. A treatise on pitch counts
28. WWE/WWF
29. Anything NASCAR-related
30. Chest-pounding athletes
31. Half-time extravaganzas
32. Super Bowl commercials
33. Media coverage of Super Bowl commercials
34. Solemn postgame interviews with losing coaches
35. A discussion about the BCS

David Halberstam & Pet Peeves

During the course of an interview several years ago with Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter David Halberstam, in conjunction with the publication of his book The Education of a Coach, I asked him if he had any pet peeves. He spoke passionately about one.

“People who are enthusiastic about wars but don’t want their own children to go,” Halberstam said. “If you’re going to go around with a little button in your lapel and you’re too old to go yourself, you ought to be willing to send your own kid. If you’re not willing to send your own kid, take the goddamn button out of your lapel.”

From time to time, in conversations with other sports personalities, I’ve asked each of them the same question. Here are some of their responses:

Phil Simms, former Super Bowl-winning quarterback with the New York Giants and current NFL lead analyst for NBC, said, “I try to exercise, try to take care of myself, but I’m weak and I seem to break down all the time. I eat perfect for two days and then all of a sudden I eat something big and fried and then the big dessert. When I fall off the wagon, I fall hard.” 

Annika Sorenstam, perhaps the greatest female golfer in the history of the sport, said her pet peeve is “people who drive slow in the left lane.”

Randy Bernard, IndyCar CEO, said, “I don't like the word ‘can't.’ ”

Randy Vataha, former wide receiver for the New England Patriots and current president of Game Plan LLC, summed up his pet peeve in one word: “Pettiness.”

Pat Williams, senior vice president of the Orlando Magic, was more verbose on the subject. “Protective secretaries, who have to ask 15 questions about why you’re calling when you’re trying to speak to the boss,” he said. “And my second pet peeve is companies that don’t have a real person who answers the phone. I want a real voice.”

Peter Kenyon, the former chief executive of the English Premier League clubs Manchester United and Chelsea, said that he is bothered by “people who talk too loudly in meetings.”

David Gross, commissioner of Major League Lacrosse, had the last word: “People who are late and who don't return phone calls.”