Tag: English

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Americans Call Football Soccer

After a brief stopover in England last week, the sofa is back on its tour of the USA. This Saturday we have wound up in…er…we’re not sure (we forgot to bring a compass and our map seems to have been printed upside-down). Literally thousands of people raced from their homes to see what the fuss was about, but it was Breana Orland who won the place on the 7 Reasons chaise longue. And it’s a good job she did because she’s going to explain to us one of life’s mysteries. Just why do Americans call football, soccer.

Breana Orland is a writer for Student Grants. She also gives advice on the pursuit of higher education and career options for young adults.

Leave it to the bloody yanks to bastardize the world’s sport by giving it a different name and, refusing so thoroughly to recognize its real name, that we assign it to a completely dissimilar sport. As per our usual custom, Americans have to do everything on their own terms. First we separated from England. Then we said no to the metric system (forget the liter, I need a gallon of milk!) and driving on the wrong side of the road (if we drive on the right side, then yours must be wrong). And finally, we took the most beloved sport in the world, football, and applied the name to a sport that should by all rights be called handball. And we named football, soccer. But if you ever wondered what caused Americans to raise the ire of football fans everywhere by giving it a new name, here are a few things you may want to consider.

1. We Already Have A Sport With That Name. Football may be THE international sport (played with feet), but here in America, football is a game that is played on Sunday by enormous men in spandex and padding that line up facing each other like they’re reenacting a pre-revolutionary battlefield. It is a sport played mainly with hands on the ball, but for some reason, we call it football.

2. Because Of The Soc? No, not the funny socks they wear. Apparently, soccer was a slang term derived from “soc” in the original name “associated football”, and since we gave the name football to the gridiron sport, the international sport of the same name got the short end of the soc.

3. We’re contrary! Deal with it! There’s a reason everyone thinks Americans are, um, jerks. We kind of are. You wanna go?!

4. New language Is Our Bag, Baby. Sure we inherited our national tongue from the British, but you don’t hear us running around shouting “Bollocks!” or “Pip, pip, cheerio!” In keeping our image as the kid who ran away from Mommy and Daddy, we have adopted our own accents and colloquialisms and set to making up words. If you don’t believe me, just consider the fact that “truthiness”, a fake word made popular by The Colbert Report’s Stephen Colbert, was actually added to the dictionary.

5. Soccer Is America’s Sport. That’s right; we jacked the world’s sport and gave it our own name. Then we stole England’s soccer legend (but Becks, wouldn’t you really rather live in Los Angeles?). Then we embarrassed them at the World Cup (okay, they embarrassed themselves). And still, it is the least recognized sport in our country. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

6. We did it our way. At least, according to Frank Sinatra. And the Chairman of the Board is never wrong. Americans always have to do things their own way, even if it means that we’re going against the entire world and firmly established facts or traditions.

7. We’re idiots. At least, according to the rest of the world. Apparently we just don’t get it and we never will. Maybe if you called it soccer…

July 31, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Teaching Is (Mostly) The Best Job In The World

A few weeks ago, you may remember Liz Gregory telling us why Summer was great. There was so much agreement with her in the 7 Reasons HQ that we just had to get her back on the sofa. Thankfully, Liz was only too keen to make a reappearance. And this time she’s bought along her box of chalks. Or are they marker pens? I can never tell when I’m sans contact lenses. If you didn’t check out Liz’s blog – Things To Do In Manchester – last time, then you better do it today. Unless you want detention. Right, enough of the stupid school quips, I’m off to the bike sheds.

1. Holidays (Part One). We may as well deal with any resentment up front, so we’ll start with holidays. I get 11 weeks per year. Teachers in schools get more. I understand that people in the real world get insultingly poor amounts of annual leave, and I feel bad about this. But no-one, anywhere (that includes you, Cameron) will take my glorious six-week summer off me.

2. Holidays (Part Two). Last year the afore-mentioned six week summer break began on July 7^th. The Ashes series started on July 8^th. This point needs no further expansion.

3. The Students. Yes, I know this one is hard to believe; even a cursory glance at The Daily Mail will indicate that the youth of today are a snarling, feral mass, pausing from their casual sex and drug-taking only to mug passing old ladies and commit knife crimes. You may be disappointed to learn that actually, today’s teenagers are pretty much the same as any other generation of teenagers: moody, unpredictable, funny, witty, charming…in short, they are good company. Although I do query some of their musical taste, and the overall aesthetics of wearing one’s jeans halfway down one’s backside.

4. Talking About What You Love, All Day Every Day. I teach English, which means that rather than answer telephones and push bits of paper around a desk all day, a typical Monday might include reading Wuthering Heights (and indeed performing the Kate Bush caterwauling classic as a Christmas treat), acting out bits of Streetcar Named Desire (Stellllaaaaaaa!), and teaching how to write scripts, articles or short stories….it’s amazing.

5. Seasonal Celebrations. Christmas is fun, sure. Christmas in a college with hundreds of sixteen-year-olds who are desperately excited but are trying equally desperately not to show it is even better. Students are also very keen on the confectionary that tends to accompany such seasonal celebrations, and bring it in by the bucket load; there is surely not a teacher in existence who has not felt their waistband constrict at Easter or Christmas due to a surfeit of Quality Street.

6. Stationery. This may actually be specific to English teachers, but every September the pain of a new academic year is soothed by an almighty trip to Paperchase to stock up on novelty pens and notebooks with monkeys on. This is an essential part of teaching, and its impact on the economic stability of Britain must not be overlooked.

7. Students Suddenly Realising You’re Not Ninety. I am not particularly advanced in years, but to my youthful charges I may as well be approaching my hundred and twelfth birthday. Until, of course, you are spotted outside of work, wearing jeans, talking to friends, and maybe (gasp) drinking wine. This prompts much admiration, as students recognise you for what you truly are – a plucky old person with a life outside college. This will raise your kudos above every member of the maths and science departments almost instantly.

July 10, 2010
7 Reasons 7 Reasons Will Always Be Written In English

One of the questions we never get asked is, ‘Why do you always write in English?’ Here’s the answer.*

1. Francais. Même si je été dans le décodeur pour le français tout le chemin jusqu’à mes 16 ans, ma connaissance de la langue, maintenant que je suis 27 est assez pauvre. Ou, pour quelqu’un qui n’a absolument aucune intention de se rendre en France, sacrément bon.

2. Deutsch. Vorcestershire schlagen Varvickshire von zehn vickets. Alle deutschen weiß ich whacking beinhaltet ein “V” oder ein “Z” auf der Vorderseite jedes Wort. Es ist ziemlich plump und obwohl Jürgen Klinsmann es macht eine Menge über die BBC, ich kann nicht sicher sein, es ist die Genauigkeit.

3. Italiano. Dato che sembra sempre torto a me che ‘Ciao’ significa ‘Ciao’ e non ‘Goodbye’, è un linguaggio penso sempre destinato a lottare con. Questo, e il fatto che la Mafia parlano italiano. Se sono stato rapito dalla Mafia, davvero non voglio sapere che cosa stanno andando a fare per me. Preferirei che appena successo.

4. Española. “No tengo una vaca, pero tengo un asno”. Es decir todos los españoles que conozco. Significa: “Yo no tengo una vaca, pero tengo un asno.” Lamentablemente, a pesar de ser todos los españoles que conozco. También es inexacta de los hechos. No, no tengo una vaca, pero ni tengo un burro. No puedo escribir 7 razones que no tienen una vaca o un burro. No sé los españoles para eso.

5. Cymru. Er fy mod yn gwerthfawrogi y dyffryn Rhonda, ni allaf ond teimlo Cymraeg yn iaith hynod arwyddocaol meddwl i fyny gan y rhai sydd hefyd yn ystyried ei bod yn briodol i bobl dalu dod i Gymru, ond yn ddigon hapus i adael iddynt adael am ddim.

6. 中。我有一個英文鍵盤。它沒有任何對這些有趣的彎曲線的事情，中方稱為’字母’。我拒絕買中文鍵盤，因為我已經擁有英文鍵盤是在中國。

7. Zomerzetish. Moy noledge of wes cernty diolec is limiturd to sayin ‘cumbine arvester’. There r ownlee a limiturd numbur of posts I curn wroite aboot ‘cumbine arvesters’. An dis is won of dem.

*Google Translate can not be held responsible for any inaccuracies.**

**Neither can I.

July 6, 2010
7 Reasons The French Couldn’t Invade The UK

1. Language. A successful French invasion would result in the British speaking French. That’s not happening. The British have about as much interest in learning French as they do in my trousers. They are also incapable of learning something so… well… pointless. (The British I mean, not my trousers. Though, come to think of it, my trousers are fairly incapable in that department too). The fact is, we Brits just wouldn’t turn up to the classes. The French would eventually get fed up and go home. Then they’d find that while they were out for the day we took over. Genius.

2. Beaches. The French have dainty little feet. It’s a well known fact, in my mind, that they spend 56% of their time in the bathroom moisturising their toes. If they try and invade by boat it means making an assault via our beaches. These are made from stone. That’s enough to make them turn around and run out of petrol in the middle of the English Channel. Please note that name. The English Channel. None of this French Chanel No.5 rubbish.

3. Flights. Attempting to invade by plane would be particularly stupid as most of the planes destined for Heathrow get diverted to Charles de Gaulle anyway. Or Luton. Both are pretty horrendous.

4. Time Difference. The French are an hour ahead of the British. Not in common sense, just in time. Supposing the French finish work at 5pm their time. It would take them two hours to get to London. That would be 6pm our time. Rush hour. Told you they didn’t have common sense.

5. Food. There is no point in invading and then going home for tea. We’d just take our country back. The French would actually have to occupy the UK. This would mean eating British food. Well they’re not going to do that are they? Who wants a plate of fish and chips when you can have frog’s legs dipped in snail fluid?

6. Nelson. Horatio still gives the French nightmares. That is why you never see an onion-selling cyclist in Trafalgar Square. Fancy losing a battle to a bloke with one arm and one eye. Do you know how difficult it is steer a ship with one arm and one eye? That’s pretty lame France.

7. Scared. The French are big pansies. In the early 1800’s Nelson had both the French and Spanish fleets blockaded in at Toulon. Instead of fighting back, they slipped through the back entrance. (A nasty habit). Nelson ended up having to chase them all the way to the West Indies. And back again. And they still didn’t bloody engage in battle. If that is their attitude how could they possibly invade the UK? They’d run away crying if the foghorn on the Calais to Dover ferry was a bit too loud.

March 22, 2010
7 Reasons That English Pronunciation is Difficult.

So, you want to learn English as a second language? Good idea. We’re here to help, so welcome to the 7 Reasons Language School. We’ll start things off simply, with a bit of pronunciation.

Lesson One: Pronouncing words that end with “ough”.

1. Through (throo). Okay, this is the first word you’ve seen that ends o-u-g-h. Now you know that “ough” can be pronounced “oo”. Simple.

2. Rough (ruff). You may imagine, based on the prior example that “rough” is pronounced “roo”. It isn’t, it’s pronounced “ruff”. This means that o-u-g-h is more complicated than you initially supposed. You’re probably thinking that “ough” must be pronounced “oo” if preceded by th, and “uff” if not preceded with th. That’s wrong, but we like your reasoning. Don’t worry, you’ll soon get the hang of it.

3. Dough (doe). Nope, it’s not pronounced “duff”, or even “doo”; it’s pronounced “doe”. That’s a third pronunciation of “ough” to remember. We realise that there’s no apparent pattern and that this English lark may be harder than you supposed, but do carry on. If small children can manage this, then so can you.

4. Plough (plow). Did we mention there’s a fourth pronunciation? I know it may seem a trifle excessive, but the English are aware that their language is sometimes illogical and impenetrable, and are tolerant of people’s attempts to learn it. We’re not the sort of people who will spit out warm beer and roll around the floors of our country pubs guffawing if you order a ploomans lunch. Oh no.

5. Lough (lock). Why is this word pronounced “lock”, but spelled l-o-u-g-h? Why isn’t it spelled l-o-c-k? Er…good questions. We’re not sure. Perhaps the Scots hate you too.

6. Cough (coff). Yes, that is a sixth way to pronounce the same thing. You may be thinking that learning Klingon would make more sense than this. It probably would, but then you’d have to converse about dilithium crystals and the climate of the planet Qo’noS with a man named Terry.

7. Hiccough (hiccup). What happened to “oo”, “uff”, “o”, “ow”, “ock” and “off”? Well, it’s now pronounced “up”. What do you mean you give ough? Come back!

February 26, 2010
7 Reasons to Watch Rachael Hodges on BBC News

Radio legend and BBC Radio 5Live newsreader, Rachael Hodges, has recently begun presenting the sport on BBC News, the BBC’s 24 hour rolling news television channel. She’s not sure when she’s on, but it will definitely be today, and tomorrow…probably. Here are 7 reasons to watch.

1. USP. Rachael Hodges has this rather wonderful quality that means she can take even the most mundane of things and turn them into something rather beautiful. Take Richard Bacon for example. Richard Bacon would not be where he is now if it wasn’t for Rachael Hodges. Just ask anyone who listened to Bacon’s late-night BBC Radio 5Live show last year. We are hoping she has a similar effect on Kevin Pietersen.

2. Anglo-Welsh. You wouldn’t know this from listening to her, but Rachael Hodges is in fact Welsh. There are two reasons she sounds English. One is because her country of birth lost the rugby at the weekend and secondly the majority of her audience is English. As she needs to stay in the job she is more than willing to cater for the masses.

3. Audible. Not every newsreader/sports-presenter can actually read-out-loud properly. They are either stammering or spitting or fainting at the sight of the Russian name coming up in the next paragraph. Rachael Hodges, though, is a pro. She has everything written out phonetically. You won’t even notice.

4. Appearance. Rachael Hodges is pretty. Very pretty. While it might be a shallow reason to watch her, it is a reason none-the-less. And no one is going to convince us it is not the reason you are going to tune in every 15 minutes. Not that the 7 Reasons team will be watching. They value their lives too much.

5. Nickname. Rachael Hodges has a nickname. The Hodges. Fiona Bruce isn’t called The Bruce is she? Jon Snow isn’t called The Snow. Rachael Hodges has a loyal group of followers called The Hodgehuggers. Ever heard of The Brucecuddlers? Or The Snowstrokers? Exactly.

6. Competition. Rachael Hodges actually competes in sport. She competes in triathlons and is running the London Marathon this year*. Most sports presenters wouldn’t know one end of a hockey racquet from the other and would curl up and die in a wheezing heap if called upon to run for a bus. Assuming they needed a bus to take them to the next pub, of course.

7. Australia. British sports presenters are, on the whole, a dour bunch whose bulletins feature despair, crisis, pessimism and more despair. When our boys go into sporting events they do so with the flames of public fervour already extinguished by the mewling wet-blankets that preview our national sporting events for us. Australian sport presenters, on the other hand, stir up public expectation. “Our blokes are gonna slaughter the Poms” is considered a perfectly acceptable match preview in Australia, where they tend not to get too hung up on detail, analysis or pre-match excuses. Rachael is going out with an Australian. Perhaps it will rub off.

*You can sponsor Rachael’s London Marathon attempt here. http://www.justgiving.com/rachael-hodges

Picture of Rachael Hodges on the bicycle leg of a triathlon taken at Dorney Lake by SussexSportPhotography.com (Thanks Ant!).

February 11, 2010