Word: gardener
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...bizarre sequence of Hill murders in Houston-does two things very well. He picks great subjects. You keep having to remind yourself that Serpentine is, after all, non-fiction. In fact, after reading a couple of Thompson's quasi-novels, one might accuse him of choosing topics that any garden-variety journalist could fish a bestseller out of. Grisly, morbid, sick, perverse, psychotic--all this, and true...
...East. Once removed from the constant press of the wilderness, he becomes a standard of social stability. "In the midst of this epoch of disintegration, McKay's machinery stitched the uppers to the lowers." McKay lives on Arrow St., in a blue house with yellow trim. He keeps a garden whose products he shares with each year's graduates. A satisfied man, he at last encounters the bees with equanimity...
...mainly they kept returning because Celtics basketball is an organized religion, with 13 green-and-white icons hanging from the Garden roof and a list of saints, identified only by the kelly-green number that they once wore, dangling from the skylights. And in this dimlylit, age-crusted catacomb, the faithful wait for the NCAA to part with a titanic saviour, someone with arms long enough and stats big enough to rescue the team. After all, except for the last few years the Celtics have always been basketball's chosen people: you can forgive their fans for hoping...
Friday might, he stepped onto the puke-green floor-boards of Boston Garden for the first time. The few hundred fans on hand an hour before gametime cheered his first warmup jumper, and each arrival in Section 80 got the news...
...gametime, the Garden is packed for the first time since patron saint John Havlicek's number was retired in ceremonies last year. This year's rite is just as impressive. "And now, the starting lineup for the Boston Celtics. "From Indiana State"--ROAR--and for the next three minutes, Section 80 and the entire Garden stand up and yell. Someone rushes to the baseline and releases a pigeon, a real nice gesture except that the bird quickly disappears in the bowels of the scoreboard...