Newspapers had the market cornered on sportswriters for decades. We also did a high percentage of the voting for national polls and honors. When making reference to these votes, headline writers required an abbreviated word, and sportswriters became ''scribes.''
In turn, it became more than a word to fit in a headline: A scribe was corny, with a penchant for applying an emotional state to a team or individual to explain a result.
You can still see that style in the hundreds of places where sports writing can be found today, but a high percentage of the newer folks are analysts.
They can use graphs to explain most any result. We didn't have the time (newspaper deadlines) or the inclination (bar closing times) to mess with graphs.
When puzzled by a result, we went with the get-it-over fastball: Team A was "fired up.'' And when fully baffled, we would break out the Blyleven, 3-2 hook: fate.
Yes. Fate, sent from mysterious ozone celebrated today (Easter Sunday) by Christians around the world, would intervene to carry a team or individual to victory for its own splendid reasons.
This week, for 36 holes on the greensward (a scribe's word, for sure) of Augusta National, the truest example of sporting fate that I've witnessed in person will be celebrated by the patrons of the Masters.
Ben Crenshaw, 63, will take his final bow as a contestant in the tournament, and will be doing so on the 20th anniversary of his second Masters victory.