Roger Rabbits with Jim Bunny

Poor Max, poor miserable, foul-mouthed Max. 

Because the Belgian F1 ace ran off at the mouth, resorted to some Old German, to describe his car after he finished fifth in Azerbaijan. The word apparently translates to ‘penetration’ or ‘striking’. You figure it.  

Verstappen, Belgium’s most famous son… after Van Damme and Hepburn of course, and Eddy Merckx, Herge, Rubens and Magritte, Lemaitre, Clijsters and Mercator and others …. was slammed, shamed and sentenced to serve a day’s community service for his potty mouth. Quite right. 

Yup - the guy who’d just earned more than $150,000 in bonuses for an hour’s work, and then dropped a clanger to a bunch of sensitive media types, probably had to mow lawns for some poor little lady in Baku or serve gruel in a soup kitchen. And he was probably cussing under his breath as he did it. 

Imagine if everyone in Tauranga who dropped an “F-bomb” today was ordered to do a day’s community service. There would be legions of foul-mouths painting out graffiti, sweeping out empty shop doorways, mowing berms, or picking up rubbish. City Care wouldn’t have a job. The air might be thick with profanities, but the place would be spick and span. And there would be many grateful little old ladies.       

I know a guy who can’t say “lovely day” without colouring it up. He would have to do a whole week’s worth of community service on the back of just one of his expletive laden sentences. I can never remember what he says but I’m fascinated with how he says it, his extraordinary command of filth. 

At the other extreme is a colleague who, when confronted by mishap, misfortune, or the unforeseen, would utter “blinkin’ heck!”. That was as colourful as it ever got. “Blinkin’ heck!” If he snagged a nail, burned down his house, or received a terminal diagnosis, the reaction would be the same - “blinkin’ heck!” 

It always made me feel the need to drop a string of expletives on his behalf, to ‘oomph’ up his reaction. 

Another chap uses “shucks” which is always more irritating than any situation which triggered it. Such an impotent, inadequate word. 

“I have just severed a limb – aw shucks.” “My wife’s run away with my best friend – aw shucks”, or on his death bed - “It’s come to this – shucks.” Because of his shucks, he became Shucks. I found “shucks” and “blimmin’ heck” to be obscene because I knew they were euphemisms for one explicit Old German word.   

Why did they mix shucks and blinkin’ heck up a bit. There are other equally inane interjections - fudge biscuits, pish – I like pish – damn, dash, tarnation and hell. But none of those would be as satisfying as a salvo of obscenities – a flurry of “#*^~*!#’s.  

And they’re good for us. Swear words give us power and control over a bad situation – by swearing, we show, if only to ourselves, that we aren’t passive victims, but empowered to react and fight back. 

I might use that in mitigation should I ever be charged with offensive language in a public place.  

There are also health benefits to a potty mouth - increased circulation, elevated endorphins and bring an overall sense of calm, control and well-being. So, a string of obscenities could easily be confused for someone just self-medicating. And of course, cursing can better help us tolerate pain. When ‘ouch’ doesn’t cut it, it’s recommended you try some Old German.   

And when Max Verstappen’s driving at 374.98km/h he probably needs calm, control and well-being. So, he could be forgiven a bit of therapeutic bad language to achieve it.  

And what’s he meant to say when he nearly wipes out – “Gosh, that was a close thing.” Or some upstart undercuts him on the chicane – “Gee whizz.”  

Nowadays, sports commentators are regularly apologising for bad language picked up by on-field mics, language they themselves will probably use in the bar after the game. Then last weekend I saw a perfectly mouthed “F-bomb” in a TV slo-mo, in-her-face replay of a woman league player when she bombed a certain try. How and why would you want to sanitise that gloriously raw sporting moment. 

I come from a wowser-ish background – little alcohol and even less swearing. My old man would wonder out loud why we would swear when there were so many ‘nice and interesting’ words to use. “Swear words are cheap and easy,” he would say. Such wisdom – pity I didn’t listen.