Bringing it back to me for a moment, I am never immediately sure of the difference between a “meme” and a “trope”, and just how they both intersect with cliches so tired they would make a brown dog weep – but a perhaps unifying point is the fatigue with which we gaze upon them all.
They are the rhythms of sports, sports commentary and analysis so oft repeated, we only have to gaze upon them for a moment before our MEGO Meter – the measure of how much My Eyes Glaze Over – starts to move into the red zone. Let’s have a look at a few.
“Not the start they were looking for.” This one is most often gravely intoned after one team scores two tries or goals in the opening two or three minutes. Apparently, this was not the start the losing side was looking for. Geez, mate, really? The best commentary offers actual insights, where the people behind the microphone can bring to our attention those things they can see with their expert eyes that have likely escaped the rest of us. Most irritating is the aforementioned grave tone – as if they are doing something more than giving us a glimpse into the bleeding bloody obvious.
“That’s not his go.” How often do we see, before our very eyes, one bloke in football go in with a vicious head-high that knocks the block off another bloke, only to be immediately sent from the field – whereupon the coach says: “That’s not his go.” Bloody hell. What would have happened if it had been his go!?
“Don’t sack my coach.” This ‘un’s a personal bugbear. Said coach has lost at least 80 per cent of the matches in the past few months. So let’s do a story quoting a captain, or key player, saying the coach shouldn’t be sacked. Seriously! Friends, these stories are the equivalent of “dog-bites-man”. It’s only when a man bites a dog, and a leading player says the coach has gotta go ’cos he’s stinking up the joint, that you have an actual story.
“We have full confidence in the coach.” As above. When a board is reduced to saying this, you can put a circle around the date on your calendar, six weeks hence. GONE. It’s only when the board says, as the Dragons board did recently, “We think he should reapply,” that it is worth spending newsprint on.
Dragons captain Ben Hunt gave under-fire coach Anthony Griffin (inset) his full backing this week.
“We have a three-year plan.” Most often intoned by the chair or president of a club with a new coach, who is struggling. It is meaningless nonsense. If three-year or five-year plans were a great idea, why isn’t Wayne Bennett using one with the Dolphins?
“How doya feel?” It is the hoariest sideline commentator’s question of the lot. Yes, after the hero or villain of the day comes within the orbits of the microphones, it is admittedly a question we want answered. But can’t they come at it from different angles? Asking that question, exactly in that way, could be done by a shopfront dummy with a tape on loop. You’re the sideline-eye, dammit, so ask a question that turns on the insight you’ve gained by being so close to the action!
“What would you like to say to your critics?” As above.
“If anyone had told me three years ago that I’d be standing here today, I would have called them crazy.” Have you seen a version of that quote 1000 times, or is it 10,000? And if they do say it, don’t bloody well put it to air, or in print! Your job is to get them to say stuff that is different/ surprises/ gives insight. That tired trope/cliche is like Tiger Woods at next year’s Masters if he plays on – once brilliant, it no longer makes the bloody cut!
“Yeah, nah.” This first came up about a decade ago, and I covered it then, but it is too good not to repeat. Back then, league player Josh Mansour was asked by Channel Nine’s Danny Weidler whether so suddenly being made a Kangaroo from out of the blue, and so young, made him reflect on all the work he had put in to get to this point, Mansour replied: “Yeah, nah, ah definitely.” Huh?
It was incomprehensible at the time, but the translation was posted by one @joeesugg on Twitter, to the effect that: “You Know You’re Australian when you understand intuitively that ‘nah, yeah’ means ‘yes’ and ‘yeah, nah’ means ‘no’.”
As to what “Yeah, nah, ah definitely,” means, after wide consultation I came up with this answer: “Yeah Danny, it has made me reflect on all that work. Nah, I don’t want to sound immodest, so I am throwing in a ‘nah’ in order to not be seen to be too quickly agreeing with the generous praise contained in your question. But ah … another pause to show modest hesitation, ‘definitely’, when I think about it, you got me dead to rights, and I definitely did work bloody hard to achieve this honour and I really have reflected on that fact.”
Josh Mansour once gave a very Aussie answer to a Danny Weidler question.Credit: NRL Photos
Case solved. Does this make me a pretentious dickhead?
Nah, yeah.
Meantime, when I put the call out on Twitter on Wednesday for the Twitterati to post their own most-tired tropes and cliches, here were a few of the responses.
“The freaking national anthem accompanied by a tracking shot of the players pretending to sing and ending with a cut away to the singer’s face screaming Advance Australia faaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir… ” It’s a visual trope, I guess, but yes – that vision is tired. (Though it might help to have a national anthem that people actually cared about, instead of the dreadful Advance Australia Fair.)
“Boys will be boys.” It is the go-to defence for most off-field atrocities. It essentially means: you have no right to expect half-decent behaviours, because boys will be boys and they were born to be bad.
“Rugby was the winner on the day.”
“The constant need for the (particularly AFL) grand final to be referred to as the ‘Big Dance’.”
“Coach killer.”
“I can’t comment because I didn’t see it.” When a player commits an on-field atrocity, the same coach who has spotted a tiny opposition knock-on 60 metres away on a dark night, missed the spear tackle right in front of him!
“He won’t be happy with that.” When a golfer misses a par putt. Thanks, Scoop. You put the kettle on, and I’ll hold the front page!
“Stick around. This isn’t over yet.” When one side is being thrashed but they want you to keep watching the ads.
“A simple misunderstanding.” Best applied when two teammates get drunk and start fighting each other, ideally in a car park at 6am.
“Stoked.” Any surfer, any time, anywhere.
“He’s a true warrior.” The winning boxer after a bout, having previously spent the preceding month using every insult under the sun to describe his opponent.
Am I going on a bit?
Yeah, nah!
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