The Curse of the Punched Ticket

The next time I hear it, I promise I will punch my $20 TV. And that doesn't mean I'm sending my Goodwill television to a playoff tournament.

Please, repeat "punched ticket" five times. Do you have any idea what you're saying?

Google "punch ticket" and look at all the news results from around the country that contain some derivation of the phrase.

Football. Basketball. Hockey. Every sport imaginable has fallen under the curse of the punched ticket.

Now, at the brink of March Madness, I've heard it more than ever. In fact, 128 teams will have punched tickets to the Men and Women's NCAA Tourney by the end of the week. And I promise, by the time you finish reading this, you'll want to punch something, too.

What happened to the dance? The once classic phrase unique to March Madness has virtually disappeared in favor of the universal punched ticket. Wofford is making its first dance in school history. But no one cares about Cinderella's stunning appearance at the ball. Now, everyone steps onto the train and punches their ticket.

Is it a train? Or a plane? Or a show? What kind of ticket is this? The media's hunger for new lingo continues to create ambiguous terms that carry no meaning or purpose. It no longer sets the underdogs apart from the favorites.

No more dreams. No more magic.

Just a punched ticket.

Dancing will be ruined. One song played over and over again like a teen girl practicing karaoke. Every dance, every journey - plagued by the punched ticket.

Only one cure exists. And it's not a new catchphrase.

How about creativity?