Hoop Junkies: It’s Time To Step Up And Get A Look

From the days when ESPN talked the Ohio Valley Conference into playing games at midnight so it would have something to show in that late-night spot to last week’s 62-game marathon, ESPN has changed college basketball forever.

It’s no coincidence that when your kid is looking at colleges you can point out that Old Dominion has played in four conference tournament title games in five years. It also is no coincidence that your kid looks at you as if you have two heads.

ESPN’s basketball announcers also have thrown the English language into their verbal blender, hit “puree,” and it has become contagious. It’s not just Dick Vitale testing the limits of human vocabulary, it’s the normally staid network announcers as well.

ESPN no longer televises any of the NCAA Tournament, so it will pass the reins of March Madness to CBS starting Thursday. But not to worry: The CBS teams will butcher the language in proud ESPN style.

Announcers can infiltrate your living room nearly round the clock in March, making it a dangerous time to leave impressionable young children in front of the television - unless you want them charging around the house screaming, “Get a TO, mommy! You’ve got a diaper dandy here!!”

If you like your English more-or-less proper and love college basketball, here’s a guide to the sports’ new, absurd language:

Verbs are passe: Players no longer run, jump, shoot, pass and dribble. Their actions have become one-word exclamations: “What a look!” or “What great elevation!” Certain players are called “active” or “athletic,” although I’m not sure how anyone plays basketball at the college level without being active or athletic. Isn’t that somewhat like calling the pope religious?

What ever happened to the basket? That metal rim with the nylon netting was once known as the basket, stemming from Dr. James Naismith’s choice of a peach basket as the game’s initial target. Now it’s the hoop, the hole, the cup or the rack. Players go for the hoop or drive to the hole or go to the rack “with authority.” To do that, of course, they have to be “active.”

Other curiously renamed items: Elbowing someone is now “giving a chicken wing.” Being overweight is “carrying extra LBs.” The free-throw line is “the stripe” and the 3-point line is “the arc.” The backboard has become “the glass” or “the window.” The ball has become “the rock.” A kiss isn’t something romantic, it’s banking the ball off the backboard. “To board” does not mean getting on an airplane; it means to rebound.

It has been years since a player caught a rebound, dribbled downcourt and shot the ball off the backboard and into the basket. That was for the days when freshmen were ineligible and dunks were illegal.

Look: This word is so overused it now stands for several different things. If an announcer cries, “What a great look!” he is not commenting on the player’s lovely hairstyle or perfect eyesight. It means he has made a great pass. However, “getting a good look” means taking a good shot.

Dribbling: There is a sudden fixation with dribbling, although it has been an essential part of the game for some time now. Players “break opponents down off the dribble,” although how that differs from breaking them down on the dribble, I have no idea.

The “dribble drive” is a redundancy. At last check the only way to legally drive the ball to the basket, er, cup, was to dribble. Any other way would be considered traveling. Or at least until you get to the NBA.

Dribbling is also “putting the ball on the floor,” although usually the only time players set the ball on the floor is when they’re done with it.

Step up: This has nothing to do with Jane Fonda’s workout routines. It’s a tired phrase in serious need of retirement. If a player is not “stepping up” to take an open shot, he’s “stepping up” his play for the big games or “stepping up” to the “next level.” Players are required to “step up” when a valuable teammate is injured or a team leader graduates. They also “step up” to the freethrow line, although it is on the same level as the rest of the floor. When a player improves, his coach is quick to point out he “stepped up” his game.

Fortunately, the games are so much fun that most of the cliches head straight down the verbal garbage disposal and nobody gives them much thought. Announcers are counting on that. If not, they wouldn’t pick eight or nine teams for the Final Four and wouldn’t claim every coach is “doing a great job with that program.”