It’s been years since I’ve even thought about the last name Booty. Josh Booty was a highly touted Marlins prospect who was such a miserable 3rd baseman for the Portland Sea Dogs that the Fish eventually let him go (so he could go back to LSU to quarterback their football team). Last night, I was surprised to discover that there was another Booty, John David, and as soon as I beheld him in control of the USC offense I knew he must be the younger brother of the guy I saw strike out repeatedly in Portland almost 10 years ago.
As I watched USC make a firm case for Bowldom by throttling Notre Dame, I realized that football is clearly where these Booty boys belong. However, I also noticed something else: Brent Musburger seemed to fear the Booty name, so much so that he seemed to only refer to the USC quarterback as “John David.”
“Is he afraid to call him ‘Booty?'” I wondered aloud to my family. As I thought about it, I wondered if he was avoiding the temptation of referring to a particularly good pass as “bootylicious,” or that Notre Dame’s defense had “grabbed Booty” in an effort to disrupt the play. I started to giggle. “Booty goes deep.” “The runningback snatches from Booty.” “Notre Dame can’t handle Booty.”
I am 12 years old.