Memorable Sporting Dummy-Spits
It has been said, by intelligent people with long names and round wire-rimmed glasses, that sport is simulated violence performed within a set of rules. It’s the only social domain in which someone can send someone else to an intensive care unit, without themselves being sent to prison. While not intending to denounce sport, or its physicality – I do find it interesting that in between the emotional extremes of joy and sorrow that sport regularly brings up, there is an ugly side of sport. When the boundaries of simulated violence are breached – and anger flows forth, sport’s ugly side rears its head in memorable fashion. It is known as the dummy-spit, the blow-up, the blue or a list of many other terms, and sport’s glittering history is bullet-holed with such occasions. Which is why we love it so much.
Perhaps it’s best to start with the king of all sporting dummy-spitters, American tennis legend, John McEnroe. In a sport where all white attire is required and the merest whimper of enthusiasm from the crowd is hushed down, McEnroe was more famous for his tempestuous tantrums than his sublime talent. At the height of his powers in the mid-eighties, McEnroe’s on-court encounters became characterised by his snaps into rage over what he considered a bad call…which was essentially every call against him. Following every line-ball he deemed dubious, ‘Mac’ would stomp down to the net and spit profanity-laden verbal assaults at umpires, linesmen, ball boys – even crowd members. He would smash several racquets a game, refuse to shake hands and then, after walking off the court, victorious, to a chorus of boos, McEnroe would clap derisively and dole out the bird to everyone who could see. Today, as a celebrity, he’s been described as approachable, affable and very media friendly, but even now, as he casually competes in amateur masters tournaments and charity matches, McEnroe still reverts to the cursing, racquet-mangling, argumentative wild-child that earned him his infamous reputation.
Road rage gets to millions of motorists daily, so when there are championships and professions at stake, tempers often flare. Take for example legendary Formula One champion Ayrton Senna, who ran around the pits post-race to find rookie driver Eddie Irvine and smack him in the gob after the Irish driver proved to be a hindrance while being lapped. Senna’s fiery Latin temperament and penchant for throttling (the non-car related kind) was famous, however, which makes German driver Nick Heidfeld’s uncharacteristic verbal attack on another driver slightly more special. Often nicknamed the ‘quiet man’ of F1, Heidfeld marched down pitlane to vent his anger after his car was wiped out by Japanese driver Takuma Sato on the final corner of the 2006 Chinese Grand Prix – costing him fourth place. He found his target in pitlane and unloaded a tirade upon him, firing a choice selection of words at the bewildered Super Aguri driver, and telling him he “left his brain at the hotel”. It was only hours after allegedly reducing the young driver to tears that Heidfeld was told he had actually just berated rookie Sakon Yanamoto, the teammate of Sato, and not the man himself. He later apologised, but asked Sakon to “pass-on” the message to Sato.
Type the term ‘football violence’ into google, and you’ll be presented with an exhaustive database of incidents – across all codes, round ball or oval. Having your face scraped off by the bottom of a forward’s boot in a rugby ruck is part of the game - and the occasional blindside punch from AFL player Barry Hall is forgiven with a shake of the hands, but then there are incidents that go beyond the already dubious limit. Look no further than Manchester United star Eric Cantona who leapt the barrier to kung-fu kick a boisterous fan in the head, or perhaps the
most concerning incident in recent memory – the amateur proctology work done by notorious rugby league dimwit, and now full-time boxer, John Hopoate Hoppa claimed that jamming his fingers into the backside of an opponent was to slow down the play, but most agreed that other methods should have been explored.
Even the legendary figures renowned for sportsmanlike conduct have their moments. Cricketer Viv Richards must take the biscuit for wonderful sporting incidents. Once, after returning to the pavilion, clearly annoyed by his dismissal, TV cameras panned up to the West Indies dressing room in the stands, only to witness the great man’s bat come crashing through the pavilion window. When questioned later, the Sir Viv explained that he had thrown his bat on to the floor and it had bounced up and out the window. Though CSI-style analysis would attest that the downward trajectory of the willow-projectile give the official excuse little credence.
Some athletes simply employ the tantrum tactics that served them so well as a toddler in a supermarket – such as Korean boxer Byun Jong Il who was so incensed at losing his bantamweight bout in the 1988 Olympics that he plonked himself down in the ring, and sat there, refusing to move for hours.
And in the subject of boxing, who can forget Mike Tyson’s foray into cannibalism? First he bit of Evander Holyfield’s ear in desperation during a losing bout, then he threatened to eat Lennox Lewis’ children. Brilliant.
And finally, if you can cast your minds back to December 2008, you may remember that headline-grabbing golfer John Daly pegged a onlooker’s phone at a tree. It was a cathartic release of frustration that any Sunday hacker can lend empathy to, but, instead of bending his four iron on his knee, or throwing his putter into the water hazard, the rotund American blamed the fan’s (admittedly intrusive) presence – and proceeded to turn his camera into a whimpering pile of debris. Camera dispatched, Daly continued his unspectacular round and finished somewhere in the middle.
There are countless other blow-ups to recall – some could even be considered more memorable than those listed – but it is the very act that captivates us. Players can score all the amazing goals, and perform all the impossible physical feats they want – but what really grabs our attention (and the headlines) – is when our heroes show a human side, a weakness removed from sporting vernacular. So while some say sport is essentially an accepted pass to commit violence, we’ll never forget the truly ugly incidents. Because, let’s face it, they are the best.
Was it the tight shorts?
not even Schumacher was safe
Face, meet boot.
"What? I was only checking irregularities!"
"It bounced, mon"
Stroppiness has no place in the ring
"Ear and children pie, mmmm"
"Cheese is for eating, not saying"
There are countless other blow-ups to recall – some could even be considered more memorable than those listed – but it is the very act that captivates us. Players can score all the amazing goals, and perform all the impossible physical feats they want – but what really grabs our attention (and the headlines) – is when our heroes show a human side, a weakness removed from sporting vernacular. So while some say sport is essentially an accepted pass to commit violence, we’ll never forget the truly ugly incidents. Because, let’s face it, they are the best.
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