Word: jude
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Your unique blend of Biblical history and baseball is refreshing but obviously apocryphal. St. Jude, patron of hopeless cases, is more likely to show an avid interest in the Mets. On that great come-and-get-it-day, you will find that your "little team that can"-couldn't! Blessed are the Chicago Cubs for they shall inherit the East...
Comeback Bid. Presley's backup sound is much fuller now than it used to be, and more electronic; he has a soulful quartet called the Sweet Inspirations, a 35-piece orchestra loud with drums and guitars and a couple of Beatles songs (Yesterday and Hey Jude) plus Ray Charles' What'd I Say. But the newest thing about the new Elvis is social consciousness. Recently released as a single, his version of In the Ghetto, a mawkish ditty about big-city slum life, came close to the top of the pop music charts...
...BEST ON RECORD: THE GRAMMY AWARDS SHOW (NBC, 8-9 p.m.). The announcement of Record of the Year will be made after competing Grammy winners-The Beatles (Hey Jude), Jeannie C. Riley (Harper Valley P.T.A.), Glen Campbell (Wichita Lineman), Jose Feliciano (Light My Fire), Mason Williams (Classical Gas), Simon and Garfunkel (Mrs. Robinson), Bobby Goldsboro (Honey) and the Los Angeles cast of Hair (Let the Sunshine In and Aquarius)-have done their stuff. A star-studded crowd of "presenters" will also be on hand...
Neither Tony nor his family would quit. His mother said novenas to St. Jude (patron saint of hopeless cases). His father offered his eyes for transplants. The experts sadly shook their heads. Tony was through, they said. The force of the blow had punched a tiny hole in his retina, thus causing a loss of depth perception, a hitter's most valuable asset. Tony still insisted on going to spring training last year, but his performance only confirmed the medical diagnosis. In batting practice he missed pitches by a full foot. In exhibition games he struck out constantly. Finally...
...regulars. Music from a tape-recorder on a table in the center of the room with a huge lampshade hanging right over, filled with a disturbingly weak bulb. The music was unmentionable top-40 staple. The girl in rapacious charge of the tape-recorder brutally cut short "Hey Jude" saying "I don't like that song at all" to a general chorus of approval. Walls covered with Gauguinesque posters and Peanuts homilies. The kids didn't dance but twitched spasmodically on their way to the bar--once three or four of them went out into the street in the comforting...