Word: aw
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...jerk, ya"-a provincialism once reserved for the bumbling baseball players who inhabited Brooklyn's Ebbets Field. Last week, when the New Yorkers blew a 2-1 lead to the Toronto Maple Leafs, a sullen crowd clustered outside the Ranger dressing room to taunt their tarnished heroes. "Aw, go back to Montreal!" one fan yelled at Player-Coach Doug Harvey. "Whatsamatter, Gump, no guts?" somebody asked Goalie Lome Worsley, who answered with a brisk curse. But then Center Andy Bathgate stepped quietly onto the sidewalk, and the fans' mood changed abruptly. "Attaboy, Andy," they murmured. "Attaboy, Andy baby...
...suddenly in the depths of the font and the holy water bubbles to a rolling boil. The scriptwriters have also provided an unwittingly hilarious line. After slaughtering five sheep and draining them of blood, the werewolf, now a fat little boy, is called to lunch by his fond stepmother. "Aw, mother," he pouts, just like any other little boy called in from play, "I'm not hungry...
...crisis since the election. Newsmen had been filled in minute by minute as they flew back to Washington, but one inevitably sought detail was missing from the intimate picture. What did the baby look like? Pierre Emil Salinger. Kennedy's press secretary, seemed slightly flustered, could only stammer: "Aw, it looks like a baby ... It has some hair . . . The hair is dark . . . I'm very poor at descriptions of children...
...This Is Humphrey (Doubleday; $3.95), The Real Nixon (Rand McNally; $3.95), and Nelson Rockefeller (Harper; $5.50). All four are tender love letters that would do credit to Elizabeth ("Let me count the ways") Barrett Browning. The Rockefeller book is an attempt to bring a glittering millionaire down to the aw-shucks level, e.g., he got a niggardly 25?-a-week allowance as a boy, didn't go to "any exclusive preparatory school," but to Manhattan's progressive Lincoln. It also contains some odd facts about the Governor; e.g., one eye is bluer than the other; he is ambidextrous...
...blonde, since she has been separated from her head as well as her limbs. Spying out her falsehearted lover is an even tougher problem. Clever readers may spot the lady killer a few pages before the end, but the author has marked a fine trail of misdirection aw?ay from his quite visible murderer, and recognition will come with a shock...