An Aer Error

Today’s typo had me Rowling on the floor laughing. Well, not really, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to open with a groan-inducing pun.

It doesn’t take a Hogwarts education to spot the error. A hint, for the Muggles: The writer cast a bad spell in the penultimate sentence.

J.K. Rowling is a British novelist who, naturally, uses British English spellings. Our theater is her theatre, our center becomes her centre, and so on. The -re at the end of are, however, remains the same on either side of the pond. No aer American English variation exists, which is why the writer crashed and burned with this aerial display.

For the Potter books to be truly compatible with e-readers, we must maneuver that -er so it’s -re. In Britain, our maneuver would be a manoeuvre.

A Philly Folly

Despite living in southwestern Connecticut — roughly midway between New York and Boston — I’m a Philadelphia 76ers fan. Always have been. During my formative years, the ample afro and aerial acrobatics of Julius Erving, one of the NBA’s biggest stars, captivated me. I rooted for Dr. J and his team — and I never wavered. I was a Sixers supporter when Charles (Barkley) was in charge, I was a fan during the dark days before Allen Iverson became “The Answer,” and I’ve maintained my allegiance through all the mediocre (at best) seasons since. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m not about to jump ship. Loyalty, thy name is Owen. (It would be nice, granted, to have that loyalty repaid with a first title since 1983. Hint, hint.)

The 76ers aren’t one of the NBA’s glamour teams. The Lakers, Heat and Bulls, among others, are nationally televised more times in a week than my Sixers are in an entire season. So when Philadelphia does make a rare TV appearance, it’d be nice if we didn’t have a fly(ers) in the ointment.

The 76ers and Flyers, Philadelphia’s NHL team, have a lot in common. Both play in the same city — in the same arena even. Both have centers and forwards making millions of dollars. Both have failed to win a championship in the last 30 years.

They are not, however, the same team, and that’s why I am hotter than the thinly sliced beef in a melt-in-your-mouth Philly cheesesteak from Pat’s King of Steaks or Geno’s Steaks. Why have the 76ers been eighty-sixed in the listings? Fly away, Flyers. It’s time for my beloved 76ers to shine!

The Worse for Ware

During last year’s NCAA basketball tournament, Louisville was one game away from the Final Four when Kevin Ware, a sophomore guard, leapt to contest a three-pointer by a Duke player. Ware landed awkwardly and suffered a horrific compound fracture to his right leg. The magnitude of the injury — his tibia protruded through the skin — stunned teammates, coaches and fans at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis.

Some in attendance were crying. Some fell to their knees. Others had to look away from the gruesome injury. Not Louisville forward Luke Hancock. He rushed to Ware’s side, knelt beside him, offered words of support and said a prayer while holding Ware’s right wrist. He gently patted his fallen teammate’s chest. It was just what the shocked, scared, hurt Ware needed.

“Seeing Luke there,” Ware told a reporter afterward, “really just touched my heart.”

Hancock acted with aplomb and affection in the midst of a very difficult situation. In a moment of crisis, he transformed from good teammate to great friend.

Too bad this ESPN.com writer didn’t have luck (and Luke) on his side. The writer’s teammates let him down. It didn’t bring its “A” game.

The last word in the second sentence, which should be teeming with t’s, e’s, a’s and m’s, has been caught with its pants down. I can see its a-hole. It sticks out like a sore thumb … or a Ware bone.