Word: ballparks
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...than convincing with the noisy hilarity of a swinging singles bar audible in the background. Similarly, the hospital-visit-to-an-ailing-aunt ploy is apt to prove a dud with a boss whose receiver is also picking up the strains of a jukebox or the cries of a ballpark hot dog vendor. To prevent such pretexts from collapsing, help is finally at hand: alibi tapes...
...Arthur D. Little, Inc. (ADL) study last April devised a syllabus in which Cambridge police will play out scenarios such as rumbles at a ballpark, "hippie" gatherings, and marital fights...
What worked for the Baltimore women, though, was no help to the Cincinnati wives. They knew that nothing is worse than a losing outfit. Mrs. Jim McGlothlin polished her fingernails just before going to the ballpark, then proceeded to peel off the polish as an antidote to nail biting. It is a ploy that Merle Hendricks, wife of Oriole Catcher Elrod, could have used: she gnawed her nails throughout the Series. Oriole Pitcher Dave McNally got one kiss goodbye and one kiss for good luck on the day he pitched. Should McNally have felt more amorous, it would have been...
Last week Williams, 50, returned to Boston's Fenway Park as the rookie manager of the Washington Senators. It was in that ballpark that he became known as Terrible Ted, throwing bats, spitting in derision, cursing unfriendly sportswriters and refusing to tip his hat to the crowd. It was there, too, that he became the Splendid Splinter, forging a formidable lifetime batting average of .344 and hitting 521 home runs. Thus, as the familiar, slouching figure with the big No. 9 on his back stepped onto the field last week, the crowd of 28,972 gave him a long...
...rooftops, before Y. A. Tittle or Bart Starr or Jimmy Brown could create their instant mythology for the eyes of millions, a man often communed with his family or made a pilgrimage to nature to find solace for his workaday existence. Sometimes he went to a saloon or a ballpark. But now, each autumn Sunday, he turns to the TV set, and enjoys the drunken exhilaration of victories by Chargers, or Giants, or Packers. It is there, says First-Novelist Frederick Exley, 38, that contemporary man can find fantasy heroes to act out his own ineluctable dreams...