Word: minority
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...even a quasi-major-league game. A surprised Warren Spahn, 61, the former Milwaukee Brave pitching ace who served up the gopher ball, confessed, "I didn't figure Appling could even hit that far." Said Appling, who these days coaches batting for the Atlanta Braves' minor league teams: "I guess these young fellows will listen...
...Smetana. And for devotees who must have their daily dose of Beethoven, the Minnesota Orchestra is staging an imaginative Sommerfest lasting through Aug. 14 that features all 16 of the composer's works for solo instruments and orchestra. The repertory includes such oddments as the Romance in E-Minor for flute, bassoon and piano and Beethoven's own piano arrangement of his violin concerto...
...back to first place under new Manager Pat Corrales. In the drill, Pete played first base. Looking around, he had to laugh. Corrales and Coach Deron Johnson, who was wielding the fungo bat, are his old Cincinnati teammates; another coach, Dave Bristol, managed him there and in the minors; Mets Pitcher Pat Zachry, kibitzing near by, was a painfully lanky teen-age pitcher Rose remembers in one of those hand-me-down Reds uniforms that signify the minorest minor league. So, all around there is evidence that Pete is old. "But age is meaningless with me," he says. By some...
...English critic Cyril Connolly once suggested: "Let us reflect whether there be any living writer whose silence we would consider a literary disaster." At work here may be the old harrumphing delusion of perspective: a Miniver Cheevy trick of eye and time Up close, most writers tend to look minor, to look like transient scribblers: aphids, small potatoes, twerps. One imagines a golden age long gone and a gray, leaden trivial present. effect is only heightened by the undiscriminating hype. One has to listen hard to hear any real thunder in the books...
...rarely those whom one simply loves. Great writers are often interminable bores. D.H Lawrence once said that reading Proust was like trying to till a field with knitting needles. Cyril Connolly would not have made his own list. He wrote his line about writers we might miss in a minor book called The Unquiet Grave (1944). He died in 1974. But open the book now, in 1982, and his mordant, elegant light pours out of the volume, alive, into the eye, the waiting, conscious mind...