Proffering tribute to old-tyme language

Quite a war at the Jake a fortnight prior. The young twirler Billy Traber, a starboarder known for his unsolvable slants, spun a one-hitter to topple the Bronx Bombers.
Traber toed the slab, gripped the ol' horsehide and hurled Uncle Charlie toward the unsuspecting batsmen, who managed just the solitary bingle, snuffing a rally as Traber garnered a win for the home contingent, dimming the Yanks' hopes in the flag scramble.
Meanwhile, the young Tribe hitters rapped, smashed and lashed base hits, while cracking towering four-baggers to topple New York and extend its skein.
One memorable moment occurred in the third stanza when the Tribe tallied ...
We interrupt this column...
[Editor's note: Due to a computer glitch, the beginning of Joe Scalzo's column was mistakenly replaced with one from 1937. We apologize for the error. The real column follows below.]
Red Smith once said that sports writing is the most pleasant way of making a living which man has yet devised. Thanks to guys like Smith, the above language changed over the years.
Cagers became basketball players. Pucksters became hockey players. Tracksters, spikers, harriers and thinclads became runners.
All in all, it was a good thing. But there's something kind of poetic about reading the exploits of hoopsters, grapplers and matsmen.
Sports Illustrated writer Steve Rushin -- who misses the old-time language -- once uncovered this headline gem: "Blame Cub Slump on Slim Slab Corps."
He mourned the loss of pitchers who "hurled cypher jobs," batters who "collected clutch bingles" and visiting pitchers who "toed the alien hunchback."
"This language is ridiculous and entirely incomprehensible, of course, and I must say I love each and every word of it," Rushin wrote. "It seems to me a shame that it's now as dead as Latin."
I'm certainly not arguing that we should return to the days of "turning tricks" or "knotting the count." (Side note: If I ever compare a high school football game to David and Goliath, please beat me over the head with a brick and cancel your subscription.)
Paying tribute
But I will offer tribute.
Below are three randomly selected paragraphs from this paper's past. All are from high school football season.
(I swear I didn't make these up.)
USTRUTHERS, September, 1927 -- Neither eleven had annexed a marker when the first quarter ended, but toward the end of the next period, after working the pigskin more than half way the length of the field, Gabriel's lads mustered a driving force that carried Fullback Dolney across the line for the first marker. (Struthers won this game 20-0 over Hubbard.)
UYOUNGSTOWN, September, 1932 -- South High penetrated the Lakewood line at opportune moments in the first half Saturday to score a 19-0 triumph at South Field. Local linemen blocked three kicks to produce the markers, but in the second half their attack was dormant.
UYOUNGSTOWN, September 1941 -- Unleashing scoring pyrotechnics in the first and final quarters, the East High gridders whipped a stubborn Woodrow Wilson eleven, 18-12, before 7,000 fans at the South High "dust bowl" last night. Battling through clouds of dust that enveloped the gridiron with each play, the two teams exhibited an explosive brand of scoring but Dick Barrett's East squad, sparked by the elusive off-tackle smashes of Nick Delmark and the pile-driving plunges of Art Wayland, managed to stay in front despite Wilson's determined comebacks.
(Couldn't have said it better myself.)
XJoe Scalzo is a sportswriter for The Vindicator. Write him at scalzo@vindy.com.