Submitted by Curtis Kelly of Chicago, Illinois.
WHAT IS THAT SNIFFING NOISE BOXERS MAKE WHEN THROWING PUNCHES?
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Listen carefully to any boxing match, or to any boxer shadowboxing, and you will hear a sniffing sound every time a punch is thrown. This sound is known to many in the boxing trade as the “snort.”
A “snort” is nothing more than an exhalation of breath. Proper breathing technique is an integral part of most sports, and many boxers are taught to exhale (usually, through their nose) every time they throw a punch. Scoop Gallello, president of the International Veteran Boxers Association, told Imponderables that when a boxer snorts while delivering a punch, “he feels he is delivering it with more power.” Gallello adds: “Whether this actually gives the deliverer of the punch added strength may be questionable.” Robert W. Lee, president and commissioner of the International Boxing Federation, remarked that the snort gives a boxer “the ability to utilize all of his force and yet not expend every bit of energy when throwing the punch. I am not sure whether or not it works, but those who know much more about it than I do continue to use the method and I would tend to think it has some merit.”
The more we researched this question, the more we were struck by the uncertainty of the experts about the efficacy of the snorting technique. Donald F. Hull, Jr., executive director of the International Amateur Boxing Association, the governing federation for worldwide amateur and Olympic boxing, noted that “While exhaling is important in the execution of powerful and aerobic movements, it is not as crucial in the execution of a boxing punch, but the principle is the same.” Anyone who has ever watched a Jane Fonda aerobics videotape is aware of the stress on breathing properly during aerobic training. Disciplines as disparate as weightlifting and yoga stress consciousness of inhalation and exhalation. But why couldn’t any of the boxing experts explain why, or if, snorting really helps a boxer?
Several of the authorities we spoke to recommended we contact Ira Becker, the doyen of New York’s fabled Gleason’s Gymnasium, who proved to have very strong opinions on the subject of snorting: “When the fighter snorts, he is merely exhaling. It is a foolish action since he throws off a minimum of carbon dioxide and some vital oxygen. It is far wiser to inhale and let the lungs do [their] own bidding by getting rid of the CO2 and retaining oxygen.”
The training of boxing, more than most sports, tends to be ruled by tradition rather than by scientific research. While most aspiring boxers continue to be taught to snort, there is obviously little agreement about whether snorting actually conserves or expends energy.
Postscript:
Few answers have raised the ire of Imponderables readers as much as this discussion in Why Do Clocks Run Clockwise? Exponents of the martial arts, in particular, were not happy. Reader Rodney Sims e-mailed us:
In martial arts, you are taught not only to exhale when delivering a blow, but to vocalize along with this exhalation when you wish to deliver a particularly powerful blow. In Tae styles, this explosive exhalation is ke-ai (pronounced “keeeye”). It serves to focus the chi, which is one’s inner power or spirit located at one’s center (just below your belly button) and push it through the extremity delivering the blow.
The martial arts teach you that to control yourself, mind, body, and spirit, is to reach for perfection, and value is placed upon such control: involuntary functions can be controlled, more force can be delivered, and things outside of normal understanding can be understood. Martial arts philosophy aside, it seems logical to assume that so many people are taught to do it, and consequently practice this exhale, that it does work to focus one’s mind. From my experience, boards are easier to break when you ke-ai.
The problem is that even martial arts exponents don’t agree about the relationship between breathing and fighting. Reader Ryan Pentoney, a goshin ru specialist, thinks that the body receives sufficient oxygen through normal breathing patterns, and that exhaling just to gain power is probably counterproductive:
The time spent sharply exhaling converted into an inhale period would not be constructive, seeing as how these exhale periods occur at the time the fighter is throwing a punch (in the case of boxing)—it would not be advisable…try throwing a punch or two in succession while inhaling, and then while exhaling. You will probably find that it is harder to inhale while punching (holding your breath isn’t very good either, as you inhibit gas flow altogether).
I believe that there is a greater purpose to the exhaling than simple gas exchange or a psychological reason. I have been taught that exhaling upon striking, blocking, exploding into a stance, or dodging out of the way of an attack severely minimizes the risk of having the wind knocked out of you. When you exhale quickly, your abdominal muscles tighten up and also protect your diaphragm. The opposite is true when you inhale. The end result is disastrous when you are struck in the upper abdominal area when you inhale, and in a fight can spell the end.
Several readers added that in activities ranging from abdominal crunches to weightlifting, the practitioner is advised to exhale at the point where the most strength is needed. The real Imponderable remains: Why don’t the boxing trainers themselves offer the same reasoning?
WHAT DOES “LEGITIMATE” THEATER MEAN? WHERE CAN YOU FIND “ILLEGITIMATE” THEATER?
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Call us grumpy, but we think laying out a hundred bucks to listen to a caterwauling tenor screech while chandeliers tumble, or watching a radical reinterpretation of Romeo and Juliet as a metaphor for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is plenty illegitimate. But we are etymologically incorrect; the use of the word legit dates back to the end of the nineteenth century, when it was used as a noun to describe stage actors who performed in dramatic plays. It soon became a term to describe just about any serious dramatic enterprise involving live actors.
And to this day, “legitimate” is used to describe actors who toil in vehicles that are considered superior in status to whatever alternatives are seen as less prestigious. As Bill Benedict of the Theatre Historical Society of America points out, one of the definitions of legit in The Language of American Popular Entertainment is:
Short for legitimate. Used to distinguish the professional New York commercial stage from traveling and nonprofessional shows. The inference is that legit means stage plays are serious art versus popular fare.
Back in the late nineteenth century when the notion of “legit” was conceived, live public performances were more popular than they are today, when television, movies, the Internet, DVDs, and spectator sports provide so much competition for the stage. Even several decades into the twentieth century, other types of amusements, such as minstrel shows, vaudeville, burlesque (with and without strippers), magic shows, and musical revues often gathered bigger crowds than legitimate theater.
“Illegitimate” actors had a shady reputation, as most were itinerant barnstormers who swept in and out of small or medium-sized towns as third-rate carnivals do today. Their entertainments tended to be crude, with plenty of pantomime, caricature, low comedy, and vulgarity, so as to play to audiences of different educational levels, ethnicities, and even languages.
Cleverly, promoters of “legitimate” theater appealed to elite audiences, who could afford the relatively expensive tickets and understand the erudite language. Theater critics emerged well into the nineteenth century in the United States, trailing behind the British, who already featured theater reviewers in newspapers. The more affluent the base of the newspapers, the more critics would tend to separate the “mere” entertainments from the aesthetic peaks of serious theater.
These cultural cross currents are still in play today. Theater critics in New York bemoan the “dumbing down” of Broadway shows, Disney converting animated movies into theater pieces, and savvy producers casting “big name” television or movie stars in plays for their marquee value. And the stars are willing to take a drastic reduction in pay in order to have the status of legitimate theater bestowed upon them
; they appear on talk shows and proclaim, “My roots are in theater.” We’ve yet to see a leading man coo to an interviewer: “My roots are in sitcoms.”
Not everyone takes these distinctions between “legit” and “illegit” so seriously. When Blue Man Group, with its roots in avant-garde theater, brought its troupe to the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas, Chris Wink, cofounder of the Blue Man Group, proclaimed: “Now that Vegas has expanded its cultural palette and embraced Broadway-style legitimate theater, it feels like a good time to introduce some illegitimate theater.”
Submitted by Carol Dias of Lemoore, California.
WHEN RUNNING INTO THE DUGOUT FROM HIS DEFENSIVE POSITION, WHY IS THE FIRST BASEMAN THROWN A BASEBALL FROM THE DUGOUT?
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Most major league baseball teams have the first baseman take custody of the ball that will be used for infield drills while their pitcher is warming up between half innings. When in the dugout while his team is at bat, the first baseman keeps the ball thrown to him in his glove.
One might expect that the catcher, the general of the infield, would be given this responsibility, but the catcher is saddled with one time-consuming fact of life alien to other infielders—in order to prepare to take the field, the catcher must don a mask, chest protector, and knee guards. The first baseman, who is the “catcher” of all the other infielders during the warm-up period (since the catcher is preoccupied with the pitcher), is thus given the not too heavy responsibility of tending to the ball and getting the infielders loosened up as soon as possible.
WHY ARE BASEBALL DUGOUTS BUILT SO THAT THEY ARE HALF BELOW GROUND?
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If dugouts were built any higher, notes baseball stadium manufacturer Dale K. Elrod, the sight lines in back of the dugout would be blocked. Baseball parks would either have to eliminate choice seats behind the dugout or sell tickets with an obstructed view at a reduced price.
If dugouts were built lower, either the players would not be able to see the game without periscopes or they wouldn’t have room to stretch out between innings.
Submitted by Alan Scothon of Dayton, Ohio.
WHY DO THE BACK WHEELS OF BICYCLES CLICK WHEN YOU ARE COASTING OR BACK PEDALING?
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Has there ever been a child with a bicycle who has not pondered this Imponderable? We got the scoop from Dennis Patterson, director of import purchasing of the Murray Ohio Manufacturing Co.:
The rear sprocket cluster utilizes a ratchet mechanism that engages during forward pedaling, but allows the rear wheel to rotate independently of the sprocket mechanism. When one ceases to pedal, the wheel overrides the ratchet and the clicking noise is the ratchets falling off the engagement ramp of the hub.
The ramp is designed to lock engagement if pedaled forward. The ratchet mechanism rides up the reverse slope and falls off the top of the ramp when you are coasting or back pedaling.
Submitted by Harvey Kleinman and Merrill Perlman
of New York, New York.
WHY DO MIS-HITS OF GOLF SHOTS, ESPECIALLY IRONS, STING SO BADLY AND FOR SO LONG?
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As if the pathetic trajectory of your ball weren’t punishment enough, a mis-hit in golf is likely to be accompanied by a sustained stinging sensation in the hands. If a shot hurts, you either haven’t struck the center of the ball or, even more likely, you haven’t hit the ball with the sweet spot of the club. Dr. John R. McCarroll, of the Methodist Sports Medicine Center, explains:
Hitting the toe or the heel of the club causes more stress to be sent up the shaft and radiated into the hand. It is essentially like holding on to a vibrating hammer or like being hit with a hammer on the hands because the stress comes up and causes the hands to absorb the shock.
John Story, of the Professional Golfers’ Association of America, explains that not all golf clubs are alike when it comes to inflicting pain on the duffer. A mis-hit on a driver (or any other wood) is much more forgiving than the iron, which has a harder head and therefore creates much more vibration. The vibration from the mis-hit of a driver gets lost in the long shaft.
Dr. McCarroll adds that advances in club manufacturing have lessened the problem of hand stings: “The newer shafts such as graphite and casted clubs cause less pain to your hands than the classic forged club with a metal shaft.”
Submitted by Ron Musgrove of San Leandro, California.
WHY ARE THERE TWO RED STRIPES AROUND THE THINNEST PART OF BOWLING PINS?
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Their sole purpose, according to Al Vanderneck, of the American Bowling Congress, is to look pretty. Part of Vanderneck’s job is to check the specifications of bowling equipment, and he reports that without the stripes, the pins “just look funny.” The area where the stripes are placed is known as the “neck,” and evidently a naked neck on a bowling pin stands out as much as a tieless neck on a tuxedo wearer.
Actually, we almost blew the answer to this Imponderable. We’ve thrown a few turkeys in our time, and we always identified the red stripes with AMF pins; the other major manufacturer of bowling pins, Brunswick, used a red crown as an identification mark on its pins. So we assumed that the red stripes were a trademark of AMF’s.
AMF’s product manager Ron Pominville quickly disabused us of our theory. Brunswick’s pins have always had stripes, too, and Brunswick has eliminated the red crown in their current line of pins. A third and growing presence in pindom, Vulcan, also includes stripes on their products.
We haven’t been able to confirm two items: Who started the practice of striping the necks of bowling pins? And exactly what is so aesthetically pleasing about these two thin strips of crimson applied to battered, ivory-colored pins?
Submitted by Michael Alden of Rochester Hills, Michigan.
Thanks also to Ken Shafer of Traverse City, Michigan.
Postscript:
Guess what? As of Fall 2005, the Brunswick crown is back!
WHY WAS CHARLES SCHULZ’S COMIC STRIP CALLED PEANUTS?
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Before there was Peanuts there was Li’l Folks, Charles Schulz’s cartoon produced for his hometown newspaper, the St. Paul Pioneer Press, starting in 1947. Fortunes are not made from selling cartoons to one newspaper, however. So Schulz pitched Li’l Folks to the United Features Syndicate, who was interested in the work, but not the name of Schulz’s strip.
UFS perceived two possible problems. Schulz’s existing title evoked the name of a defunct strip called Little Folks created by cartoonist Tack Knight. And there was a comic strip that was already a rousing success that United Features already distributed—Li’l Abner.
Who decided on the name Peanuts? The credit usually goes to Bill Anderson, a production manager at United Features Syndicate, who submitted Peanuts along with a list of nine other alternatives to the UFS brass. The appeal of Peanuts was obvious, since as Nat Gertler, author and webmaster of a startlingly detailed guide to Peanuts book collecting (http://AAUGH.com/guide/) notes:
The name Peanuts invoked the “peanut gallery”—the inhouse audience for the then-popular Howdy Doody television show.
Charles Schulz not only didn’t like the name change, but also objected to it throughout his career. Melissa McGann, archivist at the Charles Schulz Museum and Research Center in Santa Rosa, California, wrote to Imponderables:
Schulz always disliked the name, and for the first several years of the strip’s run he continually asked UFS to change the name—one of his suggestions was even “Good Ol’ Charlie Brown.” Up until his death, Schulz maintained that he didn’t like the name Peanuts and wished it was something else.
In his essay on the Peanuts creator, cartoonist R. C. Harvey quotes Schulz to show how much the usually soft-spoken man resented the Peanuts title:
“I don’t even like the word,” he said. “It’s not a nice word. It’s totally ridiculous, has no meaning, is simply confusing, and has no dignity. And I think my humor has dignity. It would have class. They [UFS] didn’t know when I walked in here that here was a fanatic. Here
was a kid totally dedicated to what he was going to do. And then to label something that was going to be a life’s work with a name like Peanuts was really insulting.”
Gertler points out that when Schulz first objected to the name change, UFS held the trump cards: “By the time the strip was popular enough for Schulz to have the leverage, the name was too well established.” But in the media in which he had control over the name, Schulz avoided using Peanuts alone, as Gertler explains:
At some point during the 1960s, the opening panel of the Sunday strips (when run in their full format) started saying Peanuts, featuring Good Ol’ Charlie Brown rather than just Peanuts as they had earlier. Meanwhile the TV specials rarely had Peanuts in their title; instead, it was “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” “It’s the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,” and similar names.
Imponderables: Fun and Games Page 11