Trash Talking

Let’s face it, we love trash talking and we love to trash talk in sports and we love those athletes that trash talk well.  Now there is a difference between trash talking and cussing.  Cussing requires no creativity; it is merely repeating vulgar, offensive, or explicit words.  You can teach a parrot to cuss, as happened with a bird that was kept on the bridge of a naval ship on which my uncle served.   No trash talking is more of an art form than simply insulting someone.  It is the barb and the sting of a well-turned phrase that is deeply painful, true, and to which there is no retort.  Trash talkers may cuss, but the best trash talking contains only words that are, in themselves, acceptable in polite conversation.

If the first aspect of trash talking is creativity and a rapier wit, the second is the ability to back it up.  Trash talking an opponent and then having them clean your clock is the ultimate rebuttal to trash talk.  To tell a linebacker, “My mom hits harder than you,” and then have him knock you out of the game, defeats the whole point of trash talking.  When you talk smack (aka trash) and then get smacked around, the trash talk comes back on you and hangs on you like ugly on an ape.  It is the kind of thing that will out last the game.  In fact, years later, you may still face good-natured (or not so good-natured) ribbing for your imprudent words. 

It is reported that the Celtic Larry Bird was one of the greatest trash talkers of all time.  On one occasion, when the Celtics had the ball on the side line during the TV time out, Bird went over to the opposing bench and said, “ I’ll come across the court, take the pass, go to the left side of the arch, and hit a three.”  Which, when play resumed, is exactly what he did.  Then he went over to the opposing bench and said, “I told you what I was going to do and you still could not stop me.”   That is pretty good trash talking. 

Not all trash talking is that good.   When King Arthur and his brave knights attacked the French defending a castle, they were taunted (aka trash talk) by one of the defenders.  “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries,” is pretty memorable, but not very biting.  By the way, talking about someone’s momma is pretty easy in trash talking, but usually not very creative.

In my opinion, the apex of trash talking is found in scripture.  It combines a reference to the ultimate smack down, beautiful poetry, and bold confidence that dwarfs a blitzing linebacker on an unprotected and unsuspecting quarterback.  I do not mean to speak lightly of Holy Scripture, but there is a real beauty and joy when you can get in your mortal enemy’s face and major trash talk.  The passage I have in mind is often read with serious and solemn voice and inflection, which I suppose can be appropriate.  But it is also the celebration of winning.  This passage calls for celebration and exuberance.  Don’t worry, there is no penalty for un-sportsman-like conduct. 

The passage of course is, “O Death, where is your victory? O Death, where is your sting?” 

Woody Allen, who appears to me to be the image of perpetual fear, speaking of death once said, “It is ‘absolutely stupefying in its terror’.”   In contrast, on April 8, 1945, in Flossenburg Concentration Camp, shortly after the last prayer in a short worship service, the Nazi guards entered the room.  “Prisoner Bonhoeffer, get ready to come with us.”  The phrase ‘come with us’ was code for the scaffold.  Bonhoeffer said to the other prisoners, “This is the end; for me, the beginning of life.”

I love trash talk, especially when it is in the face of our most hated enemy.  I will indulge in a little paraphrase just for the joy of it.

“Yo, Death, what happened to our plan for a Victory? Looks like you got smacked around so hard you got nothing.

Hey, Death, the worst you got is pathetic.  You may get one tiny moment in an eternity of shame and defeat.  So sit down, shut up, and just wait to go to Hell!”

On an unrelated note:

If you are a minister and the child of a minister I would like to send you an invitation to participate in a project I have started.  It will not cost you anything (doesn’t pay anything either).  It is a tribute to the ministers whose children entered the ministry.  Rather than sending out a bulk email that you may not want, or that may not apply to you I will ask you to send me an email saying.  “I’m a PK and would be willing to listen to your ideal for this tribute.”  I promise I will not spam you or try to sell you something.  Reply to Charlie@colemanssi.com