Word: hay
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...York Rangers' new coach, John Muckler, 63, is an old NHL hand, yet, when reporters asked him about one of his more enigmatic young stars, his reply--"I don't know Alexei Kovalev from a bale of hay"--seemed cockamamie. So, to be helpful, we hereby offer the following guidance to the Stanley Cup-winning coach...
...Clinton a victim of malicious liars, sick partisanship, a savage press corps, an independent counsel gone hay-wire? Or are we the victims, those of us who voted for him and believed he was a good enough, if not perfect, man, prone to temptation but strong enough to lead without disgracing himself or the nation? Our questions may never be fully answered. But if we, as individuals and as a citizenry, lose our reason and dignity in the rush to crush this man, all of us will need to ask for forgiveness...
...closing, the lifts had stopped and the ski patrol was telling the lingering Kennedys and their friends that it was time to head down. Nevertheless, 36 members of the Kennedy party prepared to play. "Michael is the ringleader, without question," says New York City social columnist R. Couri Hay, who describes himself as a longtime Kennedy acquaintance, and whom the National Enquirer quickly made a special correspondent last week. Ethel, however, did not join the march to the slope. Sipping cocoa at the restaurant, she had announced that she did not want to ski alone and was taking the gondola...
...clan split into two teams: Michael was captain of one, his sister Rory the other, both wearing matching rust-colored ski suits. A game the previous day had left the score tied, Hay recalls, though there was amiable bickering over a goal. "Then they said, 'We'll play tomorrow--death to the loser...
...well-groomed but quickly narrowed as the trees closed in on either side. After the first goal Michael handed the camera off to a friend. "He skis off, he turns around to get a pass, he slams into a tree head first, he falls down unconscious," reports Hay, who says he was a few feet away. He heard someone say into a walkie-talkie, "Max, Max, it's an emergency! Ski patrol, ski patrol, it's an emergency!" A friend groped for a pulse. The children yelled, "It's my father! Please help my daddy...