Word: ran
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...handspring high toward the banner-draped rafters. She twisted, turned and landed without having to move so much as a toe to keep her balance. Neither Retton nor Karolyi nor the crowd needed a judge to tell them it was perfect. Without waiting for the 10 to flash, Retton ran to the barricades for a quick embrace with Karolyi, then, strutting the pigeon-toed linebacker's walk that more than anything else reveals her power, she hopped back on the runway to wave to the crowd and shake her fists overhead in triumph. For one long moment she looked...
...jumping up and down on the couch and breaking things," she says. In self-defense her parents sent her off to an acrobatics class. At first, she went to the gym just once a week, but, she says, "I just got better and better, and so the people who ran the acrobatics class decided to start a gymnastics club so I could train to see if I could keep improving." By 14, she knew she could strike for the first rank if she could find the right coach...
Even the flamboyant David Wolper (Roots, The Thorn Birds), producer of the more than $6 million extravaganza, ran afoul of an overweening zeal on the part of an employee well down the ladder of power. There were 300 placard bearers on the field trying to rehearse, and at the oddest moments an automatic sprinkler system would click on and reduce their practice to drippy disarray. At last the producer located a workman whose raiment included an enormous ring of jangling keys. The key holder was intractable at the start: "Watering that field is just as important...
...time you saw soft-drink vendors in the end zone of the home of the Los Angeles Raiders playing football with the only tossable item they had at hand, a rat-tailed pocket comb? This was a few days before the Olympics began. They huddled, faked, threw screen passes, ran broken-field, clutching that little comb as if it were a grail. "Man," said one, "I always wanted to play the Coliseum." You couldn't have counted the goose bumps...
...flatly. "It was great working with everybody, but I don't like the pressure. It's too much like modeling." 5, 38, 42, 18, 17, 1. No, it can't be. Check it again. It is. Clutching the New York State lottery ticket, Venero Pagano, 63, ran into the bedroom of his modest two-story Bronx home and woke his sleeping wife, "You're never going to believe this. I think we're millionaires." She did not believe it either. But 5, 38, 42, 18, 17, 1-a combination Pagano put together by chance, using...