| | | Jeff Torborg was named as the succedaneum for Felipe Alou on Thursday.
| | Sean Conley, 13, the new king of the world. |
How do I know that the word means "replacement" and how do I know how to
spell it? Because I, like millions of sports fans across America, watched
13-year old Sean Conley ask for the word's definition and correctly spell it,
to win the 74th Annual Scripps Howard Spelling Bee on Thursday.
Although I have no idea how much ESPN pays for the rights to carry the event
live, it's well worth it. For only one time a year do we have the opportunity
to watch young kids, in a ballroom in Washington, D.C., make complete idiots
of us all.
Most of us couldn't get 100 percent on our grade-school spelling tests even
though we knew all 20 words that were going to be on the test. All of
Thursday's words were taken from a pared down list as well -- Webster's
Third International Dictionary -- of more than 460,000 words.
They are words that we speak in everyday conversation such as solecistic
(meaning "a grammatical error") borzoi (meaning "a wolf-hound") and
margaritaceous, which is the time period when dinosaurs survived only on
margaritas.
I don't care what critics say. Spelling is a sport. You compete. You sweat.
And it takes guts to do it. There are cameras coming at the spellers from all
different angles, commentators pointing out why they messed up and the kids
are sitting next to each other quietly whispering intellectual trash ("Oh
yeah, George, you're mom's so dumb she can't use theopneusty in a sentence.")
One of the greatest parts about watching the spelling bee is that if you let
it happen, you find yourself rooting for someone. Or even better, putting
money on your favorite genius.
This year, I picked the confident Henry Pollock, an eighth-grader from
Illinois, who was named MVP of his basketball team and led the squad in
scoring, assists and 3-pointers. Pollock approached the microphone as if
he was coached by Deion Sanders. As if he was so Prime Time that the only
reason he asked for the word origin or definition was because he was just
being respectful to the others. The only thing that came between Pollock
and victory was lumbriciform (or "resembling an earthworm"), as he bowed out
in the ninth round, tied for third.
No "Got Milk" presents "Winning Words" moments for Henry, which is
unfortunate because all spelling bee highlights are Web Gems. I'm convinced
the only thing more exciting than watching Rey Ordonez do his somersault
routine is hearing 1997 winner Rebecca Sealfon scream out each letter of her
championship word. "E-U-O-N-Y-M." How was that girl not nominated for an ESPY?
It's amazing that the spelling bee has been on ESPN for all these years and
some of its greatest elements haven't been incorporated into the sporting
world.
| | Sammy Totino, 14, of Chesterland, Ohio, hears the "ding" after misspelling the "ocarina." |
Does the buzzer at the end of the quarter or period really need to be that
loud? Isn't it so much more intense when that little bell goes "ding" to tell
the kids that it's time to cry? Who was the genius who decided that player's
numbers can't go past 99? How cool were eight of the last 11 spellers who
wore numbers higher than 100?
And I think we all agree that kicking Gatorade coolers really doesn't make us
better people. Why not have a comfort room -- for high ERA-pitchers, and low-ratio quarterbacks -- to let tears drop, meet up with their families, drink
some punch, eat some cookies and a take to a dictionary to learn some better,
more intellectual ways to express their horrendous performance?
The spelling bee could also pick up some things from the sports world. Take
it from a Grand Hyatt ballroom to Yankee Stadium. Knock out that monotone
pronoucer and give the job to Yankee Stadium voice Bob Sheppard. The guy repeats
everything anyway so the kids wouldn't have to ask to repeat a pronunciation.
After another year of watching, thanks to Sean Conley this year, I now know
how to spell inesculent (inedible), schadenfreude (to take satisfaction in
misfortune of others), and epexegesis (explanatory material).
But, it also brings back the pain of losing my fifth-grade spelling bee. I forgot the "e" on the end of breathe.
Are spelling bees eligible to become "Instant Classics" or do I really have to wait for next year?"
Darren Rovell is ESPN.com's sports business reporter and can be reached at darren.rovell@espn.com.
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