Hiking and Talking Smack

Autumn is a competitive season. Football, politics, World Series, cooking shows. But I have a flaw in my personality: I can’t talk smack. I never could. And all of these competitive events apparently require competent smack talk to fully appreciate the enjoyment they provide. But whenever I try, it comes out stilted or inauthentic or just plain weird. I blame this impediment on having participated in few competitive sports in my childhood. Cheerleading, my primary high school activity, is supposed to lift up people—Go, team, Go!—not rip apart the other team (at least, not to their faces).

On a recent hike through Old Town Manassas, after we’d admired the leaves and discussed other important questions about the meaning of life (the whole purpose of hiking, right?), my husband tried to explain the rules of smack talk and all the ways I couldn’t do it well, but he could. (I think he was just proud to have demonstrated the ability to use words in a way that I couldn’t!) He explained that “you gotta be quick and on point.” Okay, there’s nothing quick about me. Strike one. He explained that you only talk smack “when your team is winning in the moment and not from five years ago.” Okay, but I love history! Strike two.  Finally, smack talk requires “a confidence that you’re always right.” And…I’m out.

I have resorted to text smack talk from time to time. But this also falls short and is often ill-timed with whatever is happening in the game. Inevitably, five minutes after hitting send, my team misses a field goal or commits some game-altering blunder. So apparent is this flaw of mine that now I can never seem to find my phone during a critical game (and my husband always has a guilty look while he tries to appear innocent of cellphone theft.)

Even though talking smack is nothing more than the fine art of arranging words for a stinging impact, it’s not a skill that is used in the writing world. “I’ll put my active verbs up against yours any day!” See, it just doesn’t flow and luckily, never happens.

I also tend to overanalyze the clichés used in sports smack talk. Like, exactly what is a “barn burner?” I can never remember whether that’s a blowout or a close game. And who is doing the burning vs. chasing the horses out of the barn? Is a burning barn really bad? Maybe the barn was a dump to begin with and needed to go. Anyway, it’s just not an analogy that works for me.

While we’re on the topic, I’ve always been perplexed by sportscasters who state the obvious. “What they need to do is put some points on the board” or “It doesn’t seem like they are able to move the ball down the field.” Duh.

I suppose, as flaws go, not being able to talk smack isn’t the end of the world. I can stay in my lane—serious prose only. But once, just once, after writing a terrific paragraph, I would like to jump up in front of my computer, do a fist pump, and yell “Whoowa! Take that!” To which my cat will merely yawn.

How about you? Are you an expert smack talker or a neophyte like me?