Word: gaming
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Before the game starts, they give an award to Carl Yastrzemski--a big trophy. Carl had his 3000th hit this year. Last November, Carl's boy, Ed "A Man Called Flintstone" King, made Governor. Carl's a winner. He mumbles a few words through incredible static. The crowd cheers. I've heard Carl has to tape up his Achilles tendons so tight that he has no feeling in his feet. I've also heard that Carl voted with his feet. Carl's a winner...
...centerfield that evokes DiMaggio, at least for those who remember that inspired Yankee Centurion. It's hard to capture the feeling of exaltation a player like Lynn can create, how he can--man versus ball--extend the horizons of human potential, at least during the brief span of a game. Lynn spent most of the year in pursuit of the Triple Crown, and he's a fair bet for the Most Valuable Player award, though it might go to either Ken Singleton of the Orioles or Don Baylor of the Angels. Lynn, meanwhile, whiffs--but what a great whiff...
...since my birthday's not too far away, I'd like to blow out all the candles and wish that someone would knock off the Orioles this year--California or maybe the Brobdingnagian Pittsburgh Pirates--with about 16 homeruns in a four-game sweep. The Orioles are the most boring team in baseball, a gaggle of colorless Holy Rollers. Around the league they tell this story about how Tippy Martinez, Baltimore's top bullpen twirler, invited Earl Weaver to a 7:30 a.m. Sunday prayer breakfast...
...double, Allenson a single. Sizemore hits what looks like a sure double-play ball, but Allenson comes into the keystone like a cruise missile. Dwyer scores. Bang. An inning later Butch Hobson hits his 28th homer over the Green Monster with Fisk on base. It looks like the game is on ice, except that Don Zimmer has decided to unleash the awesome firepower of the Red Sox bullpen. Soon somebody named Rick Bosetti is trotting around the circuit and the scoreboard reads Toronto 5, Red Sox 3. The crowd, of course, blames Zimmer. The scoreboard flashes...
That is a shame, because they miss Freddie Lynn's 39th homer of the year, a frozen rope to right-center in the eighth which brings home Sizemore and ties up the game. Nobody really wants to stay for extra innings against the Blue Jays at the end of the year, and Pudge Fisk complies by clubbing the first pitch of the bottom of the ninth somewhere near Kenmore Square. As Yogi Berra once said, "It ain't over 'til it's over." Well, it's all over: Red Sox 6, Blue Jays 5. They can let the grass grow...