One of the most exciting events to ever take place in Rotonda was the 1973 Superstars Competition. This “sporting” event, broadcast nationally by ABC TV, not only attracted millions of viewers but also helped to popularize Rotonda as an ideal Florida resort community. During the five-year run of the show, interest in Rotonda increased greatly as viewers were given a snapshot of the “Florida Lifestyle.”

The original idea for the Superstars came from Olympic skating star Dick Buttons. After winning the Sullivan Award as America’s top amateur athlete in 1948, Buttons felt he really wasn’t our country’s best athlete. Button formulated an idea at this time that there must be a way to find out just who is the best all-around athlete in America. Button didn’t act on his idea for another 25 years until he became an influential television analyst for figure skating. In 1973 Button founded his own production company and pitched his idea for a professional athletes’ decathlon. Unfortunately, all three networks turned down his idea. Things quickly changed as Buttons acquired Fram Filters as a half-sponsor for the show. ABC Sports, which had lost the broadcast rights for NBA games and was looking for a new sports program to fill its weekend sports slot, agreed to broadcast the show. All that was needed now was a place to host the event. ABC mounted an intense search for a place that featured ideal weather and facilities that would cover all ten sports in the competition.

Joe Klein, the original developer of Rotonda, was delighted when he was informed Rotonda was selected as the host of the first Superstars Competition to be held in February 1973. Klein was especially excited that Rotonda would be publicized week after week to millions of viewers on network TV. Don Ohlmeyer, an award-winning sports producer at ABC, was given the job of organizing the entire affair. The ten events would be taped on February 19, 20, and 21 and would be shown in a special two-hour presentation on February 25.

Ed McMahon, Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show sidekick and Rotonda spokesman for Joe Klein, was chosen as the official host for the Superstars. Before and during the competition, McMahon hosted many parties at his Rotonda home for TV, sports, and media types.

Before the games began, construction began on living quarters for the athletes, and the building of the various venues for the ten events. Crews worked day and night, as Klein put in $1 million towards construction costs. A condominium complex, an Olympic pool, and a PGA-rated golf course were quickly built. In Rotonda Shores, a 36-acre park was built featuring a track and field oval, canals for rowing, a baseball diamond, and a portable bowling alley.

Some of the top names in professional sports were invited to compete. Among those accepting invitations were: Johnny Bench, baseball; Joe Frazier, boxing; Bob Seagren, pole vaulting; and Johnny Unitas, football. Prize money for the contestants totaled $122,000. This was not all, however, as residual TV contracts, personal appearances, commercials, and endorsements all sweetened the pot. Joe Klein also presented each athlete with a Rotonda lot, worth about $8,500 at that time.

Each competitor could pick seven of the ten events that they wanted to compete in. Athletes could not compete in their own sport, however. Jim McKay, ABC sports announcer, was chosen to be the commentator for the show, and Howard Cossell also made a guest appearance. After seven grueling events, pole vaulter Bob Seagren eventually won the first superstars’ competition, getting $39,700 for his efforts.

An unforgettable moment happened in the 50-meter swimming event as competitors lined up to swim two laps of the pool. Joe Frazier did a massive belly flop into the water and barely made it to the other side of the pool. As it turned out, Frazier almost drowned and later realized that he didn’t know how to swim.

Audience reaction to the Superstars was so good that ABC returned to Rotonda in 1974 for another five weeks of shows. Table tennis, however, was eliminated as a sport, replaced with an obstacle course which became one of the most popular events in future contests. Superstars remained in Rotonda for five years, from 1973 to 1977. By 1975, women began to have their own Superstars competition, with volleyball star Mary Jo Peppler winning the first women’s contest.

Klein had signed a ten-year contract with ABC to broadcast the Superstars from Rotonda. However, by 1977, ABC wanted to broaden the television coverage for the Superstars and decided to look elsewhere to stage the contest. After ABC left Rotonda, it continued to broadcast the show for another seven years. By 1984, however, ratings had dropped, and ABC cancelled the Superstars altogether.

For a brief period of five years, Rotonda was the sports entertainment capital of the world. Even though the Superstars left in 1977, Rotonda had gotten the “jump start” it needed to expand as a resort community. It hasn’t stopped growing since.

The post Superstars Competition Put Rotonda on the Map appeared first on Englewood Review.

You might’ve caught them wandering the Englewood Farmers Market, dancing at a parade, or bringing pink joy to one of the local events. They’ve kind of become local celebrities. Two years ago, they even landed on the cover of the Englewood REVIEW during the Christmas Stroll.

The Englewood REVIEW recently had a chat with Mary Beth Cantell, who helps lead this flock. The Flock of Flamingos have been brightening up Englewood for three years now, and they’re only getting bigger, with 39 members and counting. 

When we asked Mary Beth how this all started, she laughed, “I’m from Massachusetts and had seen a video where a bunch of women dressed in these blow-up flamingo costumes and just ran around the beach. I wanted to do it back home, but it never worked out. When we moved here, I told some friends about the idea, showed them the video, and everyone just said, ‘Yeah, let’s do it!’”

Now, the group pops up all over. They’ve brought their pink parade to everything from the Christmas Stroll and Moose Lodge children’s party to ice cream socials and grand openings, like the new car wash on 776. 

Mary Beth laughs about wearing the inflatable costumes during parades. “It’s fun, but hard to walk, so we skip the long parades. Still, we always do the Stroll. Last time it was raining, we ended up onstage, giving flamingo kisses to a little girl. Someone took a shot, and suddenly, we were on the front page of the Englewood REVIEW.”

People just love it. “We performed at a 70th birthday in Venice and got everyone up dancing. It really is pure joy,” Mary Beth told me. “And, come on, flamingos were basically made for Florida.”

As the group’s grown, so has their audience. These days, they get requests everywhere. Homeowner’s associations invite them to parties, vendors at farmer’s markets clamor for photos, and they even took the stage at the annual Coldwell Banker fundraiser. And yes, they’ve joined the drum circle a time or two.

Mary Beth and her co-leader, Charlene Peterson, keep it easygoing. New members just check in with them and learn the ropes. It’s all about having fun and making people smile. The Flock of Flamingos never charges for appearances, but if anyone wants to donate, they give it all to the American Cancer Society.

If you’re hoping for a Flamingo sighting, or maybe want to join, reach out to Mary Beth (781.910.9930) or Charlene (570.956.8079). Are you planning an event that could use a blast of pink and a lot of laughter? Call them. They’d love to bring a little joy to your corner of Englewood.

The post Feathered and Fabulous: The Flock of Flamingos Takes Englewood by Storm appeared first on Englewood Review.

The way we order a drink or refer to everyday things can be a dead giveaway. Ask for a “pop” and folks know you’re from the Midwest. Request a “soda,” and they’ll peg you as East or West Coast. And if you ask for a “Coke,” well, growing up in Florida, that just meant any soft drink, not just the classic red can.

Then you get to Southwest Florida, where pretty much everyone is from somewhere else. All these accents and weird speech quirks get tossed together, and it turns meeting new people into a guessing game: Who’s from the Bronx? Who still calls their sandwich a “hoagie”? Which one’s the Boston transplant sneaking lobster into every conversation?

There are some words that just ring out as local no matter where you use them. If you’re in Philly, people grab a “hoagie,” not a sub. Out in California, you merge onto the “freeway,” not the highway. 

Here’s a quick run-through of a few words and phrases:

Ayuh

This one’s straight out of Maine. It’s just another way to say “yup,” probably from the word “aye.” Honestly, younger Mainers don’t use it, but anyone who’s read Stephen King knows he still sneaks it into his stories.

Cattywampus

Some folks say “cattywampus,” others “catawampus.” It doesn’t matter. Either way, it means something’s all messed up or crooked, and you’ll hear it all over the South.

Caramel

On the East Coast, folks stretch it out: “carr-a-mel.” Head west and it gets tightened to “car-ml.”

Been

Way up north, closer to Canada, you’ll catch people saying “been” with an “eh” sound, like “Ben.” The rest of the country says it more like “bin.”

Y’all

Down South, the only way to gather up a group is to say “y’all.” And if the whole town’s coming, it’s “all y’all.” Up north and out west, it turns into “you guys.” Or if you’re in Pittsburgh, you might hear “yinz,” as in, “Are yinz coming over?”

Mayonnaise

This food causes arguments just over pronunciation. A lot of southerners just say it with two syllables, “MAN-aze,” while folks closer to Canada squeeze out all three: “may-uh-naze.”

Pajamas

In the west and Great Lakes, you sleep in “pa-jam-as,” while Southerners draw out that second “a” to sound like “father.”

Pecan

Nobody agrees on how to say this nut. You’ve got “pick-AHN” in Texas and Louisiana, “PEE-can” up north, “PEE-kahn” around Michigan and Wisconsin, and “pih-KAHN” just about everywhere else.

Pop

Order a “pop” in the Midwest and everyone’s nodding. Switch to “soda” in the Northeast and West, and you’ll fit right in. Down South, if you ask for a Coke, the answer will be: “What kind?”

Florida-Speak

But once you make it to Florida, forget everything you thought you knew about regional speech. Florida’s got its own blend. Some phrases are classic, others borrowed and twisted from up north, and a bunch are just pure Florida inventions. 

Southwest Florida (SWFL) is especially interesting; it’s part Southern, part tropical, with a whole lot of Miami-Dade Spanish layered in. It shows up in the words for food, slang for weather, and even how they poke at tourists.

Here’s a taste of Southwest Florida’s language:

Pub Sub—If you’re local, you’ll never skip a good sandwich from the Publix deli. People take their Pub Subs pretty seriously.

Snowbirds—Northerners who flee the cold and fill up Florida from November to April.

No-See-Ums—If you’ve spent an evening outside, you know these nearly invisible little gnats are more annoying than mosquitoes. Literally, you cannot see ‘em.

Jit—Kids or teens (short for “jitterbug”).

Gator—Every local has an alligator story. Enough said. 

Love Bugs—Those pesky mating flies that cover your car each spring.

Alligator Alley—The stretch of I-75 that slices right through the Everglades.

Down South—In SWFL, this usually means “headed to the Keys,” not just geography.

Florida Man—Thanks to the infamous meme, this just means someone did something wild enough to make the news.

“It’ll Pass”—What people say when the daily 15-minute summer monsoon rolls in. Wait it out; it’s gone before you find your umbrella.

Florida Bath—Jumping in the pool instead of hitting the shower. Works if you’re a kid, maybe not so much if you’re late for work.

Parked in Goofy—When you leave your car at the farthest corner of the theme park, way out in “Goofy” lot.

Jiffy Feet—That black crust you get on your feet from walking barefoot on hot Florida pavement.

Wicked Up—Seriously hung over.

“Going to the Bay”—Believe it or not, in some parts, this is how you say you’re heading to Publix.

Flip-Flop Formal—In SWFL, you can throw on flip-flops for just about any occasion and still look presentable for that luncheon.

Florida Cracker—Here, it’s all about pride. If someone calls themselves a Florida Cracker, their family’s been here for generations.

Gone Fishin’—The simplest way to say you’re off duty. “The boss isn’t in. He’s gone fishin’.”

Jorts—Those jean shorts you see everywhere. Blame the heat, not the fashion.

Lanai—The absolute must-have screened-in porch. Keeps the bugs out, lets the breeze in.

Florida Room—Often confused with the lanai (close, but no cigar), every kid who grew up in Florida had one. It’s a bonus living room with jalousie windows; the place where the TV always seemed to be stuck on cartoons.

SoFlo—The local nickname for the whole South Florida stretch, from Miami through Naples and Venice. Think palm trees, Latin beats, and never-ending summer.

South Florida has a lot of Cuban influence, too. Words like “acere” (buddy), “dale” (hurry up), “oye” (hey), and “cafecito” (the strong, sweet espresso that powers Miami).

And, of course, hurricane and weather talk deserves its own category:

Hurricane Party—Gathering with neighbors to ride out a storm.

“Anything under a Category 3 isn’t worth waking up for.” Sounds crazy and not recommended, but longtime locals used to say it all the time until recently. 

Florida only has four seasons: Hurricane Season, Love Bug Season, Tourist Season, and Summer.

Sure, we missed a few. But that’s the thing about language: it changes as fast as Florida’s weather. Got a word to add? Tell us. We’ll put it in next time.

The post Lost in Translation? Welcome to the Wild World of Florida-Speak appeared first on Englewood Review.