Word: prez
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Teddy admitted he wants to be prez...
...listen to the stories, about Ruth earing an 18-egg omlet, and the time he bellied up to Warren Harding before a game with the Senators and said "Hot as hell, ain't it, Prez?" Or how about the time Don "Perfect Game" Larsen totalled his car during spring training and Casey Stengel, when asked what Larsen was doing out at five in the morning, replied, "He went out to mail a letter." Or the time in 1977 when the Yanks almost traded Ron Guidry to the White Sox for once-and-future mediocrity Bucky Dent. Or the moron reporter...
Nothing pussyfooted about the average gang or "click," as some kids like to call it. At the top of the heap is the "prez," who, if he wants to stay there, had better respond to every threat and challenge. The "veep" supervises internal affairs, especially dues and initiation rituals; the "war counselor" plans the "ripoffs" and "gang-hits" and commands the "gestapo" squads, which consist of the enforcers; the "armorer" keeps the weapons functioning in a safe place such as an abandoned building or a girl friend's apartment. Even automatic and semiautomatic firearms-like...
...Prez," as Jones is affectionately known by staff and students alike, is jovial and easygoing-given, as he says, to "talking up a breeze." A storyteller in the Southern tradition, he splashes his tales with emphatic "Oh, Lord's" and resounding laughs. As he drives around his 380-acre campus in a canvas-topped Oldsmobile 98, he waves to students and invites visits to his office. There, a small plaque on his desk proclaims LOVE YOUR ENEMIES; BLESS THEM THAT CURSE YOU. Says Jones: "I'm a front-row, 'amen' Baptist deacon...
...weekend. And. of course, he will always have his college. Right now, Jones is building a new house a mile away from his present residence on campus. He jokes that his faculty friends are planning "to beat a path to my door for dinner." If they don't, "Prez" will certainly beat one back to Grambling...