I weighed the headline writer’s words very carefully, and I feel that they came up 2,000 pounds short. I cannot allow you to carry on, wayward son.
The full name of the trophy referred to in the article is the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy. It’s named in honor of William John Masterton, a center who played for the National Hockey League’s Minnesota North Stars in the expansion team’s inaugural season, 1967-68, and scored the first goal in franchise history. On Jan. 13, 1968, in a home game against the Oakland Seals, Masterton, 29, was checked by a couple of defenders. When he fell, the back of his head hit the ice and he lost consciousness. (He wasn’t wearing a helmet. In that era, helmets were not mandatory, and most players did not wear them.) Two days later, the two-time NCAA champion at the University of Denver died. Masterton is the only player to die directly from an injury suffered in an NHL game. The North Stars retired his jersey in 1987, and when the team relocated in 1993 and became the Dallas Stars, the honor remained, even though he played exclusively for Minnesota. Masterton’s No. 19 hangs from the rafters of Dallas’ American Airlines Center.
The headline’s middle word came undone when ton became son, but when it comes to errors, we’re not done. Tons more exist. Well, not really. Just one. I’ll tell you about it.
When goes grows, an editor knows. As I gazed at tgoes, I knew an extra letter was the source of our woes. Which letter? If g goes, we have toes afoot. That doesn’t make sense. G stays. T goes. If we trim that goes t, what comes? Goes.
Whenever you’re attempting to spell the present third-person singular of go, let me know. I’m your go-to guy. I know we can’t have goes in the guise of tgoes. My advice: If you’re for goes, forgo t’s.
Irked by this run of puns?
Hey, on a blog, anything … well, you know.