Dictionary.com says the term "wop," an epithet for those of Italian descent, is derived from the Italian
guappo, meaning "swagger or pimp." Urbandictionary.com, however, posits the term is an initialization of "without papers," signifying that in earlier times many Italian immigrants arriving in the U.S. lacking identification papers.
A user comments on urbandictionary.com:
"F--k all those definitions that say wop is a drink. [See wapatui.] The only time I've heard someone use the word is as an ethnic slur, and usually at me."
Apparently that's how a patron named Gambino, recently relocated from "the East Coast," felt at The Blue Parrot in Louisville, Colorado, last month. He
insisted the restaurant take its popular "wopburger" off the menu. Owner Joe Colacci
told him to buzz off.
Remember some years back when a New Yorker came passing through St. Paul and made a big stink about finding a dago sandwich on a West Seventh restaurant menu? Local newspapers pounced on the guy; second- and third-generation Italian immigrants have been
serving dagos at the likes of DeGidio's and Yarrusso Bros. and Cossetta's for years.
When I was a boy, my father took me to the original Cossetta's market, a twelve-by-twelve corner store where capicola and soppressata hung from the ceiling like wind chimes and you could still hear Italian being spoken by the folks behind the counter. Dad also told me "wop" stood for "without papers."
I believed him, because Dad grew up down the street from Cossetta's, the only non-Italian for blocks around. That means he grew up in Nick Mancini's sphere, and indeed my dad played on one of Mancini's hockey teams when he returned from the navy. Dad can remember when about the only thing Mancini's restaurant served was a hot dago. Then it was not much more than a shack, and Nick's mom did most of the cooking.
Growing up, when we dined at Mancini's Nick would always come by the table, smile at my mother, mumble something familiar, and order the staff to bring a round of drinks. Of course, he did that for just about everybody, but it always made you feel like the most important table in the place.
Years later, after I hadn't been in Mancini's for some time, I was dining there without my folks. Nick looked at me from a few tables away and I could tell he was trying to place me. It was obvious he didn't know who I was and equally obvious that he connected me with someone he was accustomed to greeting personally. ("I don' know dat guy, but I know I always buy his mudder a manhattan.") Without walking over he signaled a waitress to bring me a drink and went on his way. I felt like the mayor of St. Paul.
R.I.P. Nick. Let's all agree with the poster at urbandictionary.com who suggests "wop" is simply the sound a pile of spaghetti makes when it hits your plate.
Please
let me know if you will or will not be playing hoops at St. John's this weekend. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual.