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Robinson was a skinny, bookish man with the intimidation rating of a snail.
Like sharks scenting blood, the Scum Bunch smelled it.
It was Carter’s typical style of retort (lame),
GARY CARTER IS A GEEK. This sounds strange, doesn’t it? How many major league Hall of Famers with bulging muscles and boyish good looks have been grouped with Screech, Steve Urkel, and Potsie Webber on the all-time uncool list? The facts, however, are indisputable. Carter is the anti-Fonzie, as koolamundo as a pair of neon pink leg warmers and the L.A. Gears to match. He doesn’t:
also known as “speed,” “up,” “fast,” “louee,” “goey,” “whiz,” “pep pills,” “uppers,” and “greenies,” and illegally distributed by an in-clubhouse employee of the club—
Mets’ second rhubarb had begun.
were beating Atlanta like an old bag of potatoes.
rush of adrenaline that equaled a thousand black coffees.
King Kong Bundy–sized hangover,
As dozens of cops wore the shirts, dozens of cops looked like buffoons.
against the wishes of every breathing humanoid who had seen the couple together.
like a mitten on a porcupine.
one of the Book of Busts.
whose name changed from “George Foster” to “George Foster, the $10 million bum.”
ring the cowbell about.
high jinks
Hall of Hysteria.
deadliest fart since the days of Genghis Khan.
By day’s end a settlement was reached. For their participation each Met would be paid $1,000 and given a VCR and a copy of the videotape Dick Clark’s Best of Bandstand(supplied by Vestron, the company that financed the project). Palmer breathed a deep sigh of relief. But over the course of the next five days, he received one ludicrous request after another. The self-importance of professional athletes is generally off the charts, but this was insane. The Mets wanted everything. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Upon asking a star to, say, film a sequence of mock home run swings, Palmer was met with “Oh, he
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a cloud of arms and legs.
major league grim reaper
Ryan was born during the Civil War.
routinely mammoth shots that cleared three or four boroughs—
pizzazz and personality of a cardboard warehouse.
forever be derided as the Dred Scott Decision,
Feistiness and intelligence do not always coincide.
both hamstrings, both quads, and both groins.
thousand times the burn (and odor) of Ben-Gay.
The left ankle he had injured eleven years earlier now throbbed like a transplanted heart.
Jim Rice and Jerry Rice or a bowl of Rice-A-Roni.
Those who live baseball 24-7-365 don’t live very long.
every entry from the Book of Insults.
It was R&B versus country music.
Boyd a mediocre arm with a few loose screws.
All Kohl had to do was turn his minimal English comprehension skills
I am as intimidating as Snoopy.
No city has uglier fans than Boston,
(curveballs?)
compact word: weenies.
Somehow, in a world where dogs guide the blind and paraplegics finish marathons, a two-out double to a wall 360 feet away failed to score Rice,
Like Nolan Ryan before him, he was Texas born and raised, which in the world of pitching means unstoppable strength is your birthright.
the baseball did not just depart from his son’s hand, it exploded like a torpedo from a submarine.
Within the small fraternity that is the team’s clubhouse staff, Strawberry goes down as one of New York’s all-time great guys.
nervous-as-a-cat-in-a-wavepool rookie.
To be a member of baseball’s print media is to be a selfish SOB. You root for one thing: simplicity. The earlier the outcome is sealed, the more time you have to write a masterpiece.
This will go down as the greatest managerial screwup in baseball history.
Charlie Sheen proved that his accepting the starring role in Grizzly II: The Predator was no fluke in judgment.
the ’86 Amazin’s.
