The Art of the Big Mouth: Open Mouth, Insert Foot Syndrome

Speaking has existed in various forms long before humanity ever set charcoal to cave walls or quills to vellum. It has persisted through the course of our history, playing a role in that shaping of that history and defining individuals by their abilities, or lack thereof to speak. 

Somewhere between prose and cursing insults there lies trash-talking, an art form all to itself.

Every species of animal expresses dominance in a difference way.  Monkeys may scream, gorillas may thump their chests.  Other displays vary from coloration, to violence, to the biggest whatever, and more.

As human beings we can trash talk.  We have a certain recklessness in our pride that even in the face of unbeatable odds we refuse to admit we might not be able to handle the task and instead resort to the verbal assault known as "Trash-Talking."

In the office, on the street, and in the bar, humans everywhere seek to establish their dominance. After one too many, it doesn't matter that the other guy is a descendant of a Viking who outweighs you by a hundred pounds.  You will still reel your red-rimmed eyes up towards the general direction of his face and open that big mouth.

However, the best example for this is in the sports we hold dearest to our hearts.  Football in particular gives rise to the televised individual with an ego.  This individual can make a statement, and in less time than it takes to make an EGGO waffle, the statement will saturate every major media outlet in America.

Terrell Owens can do it.  He and Ocho Cinco, among others, are headline divas—and truth be told, that is where they want to be.  They excel at the art of the big mouth, talking and trashing.

Whether it is demanding that they be traded because they are better than the rest of their team, or bashing the opponent coming in, they talk—and because we are human, we listen.

Overall, we don't mind as much if a player can back it up.  There is no doubt that some trash-talking between teams makes a game all the more interesting.

Having no particular affiliation to the Pittsburgh Steelers, when the Rashard Mendenhall comments were taken up by the press, I couldn't help but see if he could make good on his screams and chest-thumping—or if the Ravens' defense would make him suck his toes.

The same goes for Miami trashing the Patriots' Matt Cassel, calling him out.  Who didn't want to watch to see if Miami really could do it?

As much as we respect those who can open their big mouths and legitimize their claims, we deride those who open their big mouths and are all talk.

This weekend in a college game that did not receive much national attention, Chris Marinelli of Stanford called out Notre Dame, the city, the fans, and the team.  He failed to perform, allowing Notre Dame's Pat Kuntz to get by him for two sacks.  The team as a whole underperformed to his big mouth exclamations.

Notre Dame fans smiled, enjoying the words he was forced to eat.  Stanford fans groaned.  Not only did Marinelli look foolish, he made the team as a whole look like silly, arrogant boys, hyped up on testosterone.

The Open-Mouth-Insert-Foot Syndrome—or OPMIFS, for those who don't know medical acronyms—is a contagious societal ill.  In the office we trash-talk over a project date and who can do it better, faster—who can be more creative, who can get the raise.  We respect those who can perform.

Peyton Manning telling the Indianapolis recruiters he will come back and beat their @#$'s for the next eight years if they didn't recruit him now seems like a solid comment.  Had he busted, well, Sports Illustrated would have had something else to write about—his big mouth.

In whatever facet of the world we inhabit, we do the same— as such, we love the Art of the Big Mouth.  We love it almost as much as the games themselves, second only to our love of laughing at someone who has ended up saying a bit too much. 

We feel better about ourselves when someone catches OPMIFS.  Really, we do.

The old clichés still ring true: Actions speak louder than words.  Think before you speak. Talk is cheap.

But if we all followed those, the world would be a whole lot less interesting, and sports as a whole would be, well, diva-less and boring.  Who would want that?