Word: shoulder
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...more than four months of U.N.-Communist truce parleys in Korea, the Pentagon and the State Department looked avidly over Matt Ridgway's shoulder, but allowed the Supreme Commander free tactical management of the negotiations, so long as he stayed within broad lines of policy laid down in July. Recently, however, Washington has had a queasy feeling that Ridgway was being too stubborn, and Washington decided to intervene. Somewhere between Foggy Bottom and the thick-carpeted rookeries of Pentagonia, a plan to break the deadlock over a ceasefire line was cooked up and handed to Ridgway. Last week Ridgway...
...Lied? "Then I didn't say anything, I didn't say nothing. So later he snatched us, he shot me again in the shoulder, and still I didn't say anything at all, all that time. And I knew I was not dead...
...quarterback. This innovation of "line quarterbacking," according to Caldwell, insures efficient blocking for an opening, and counteracts any sudden defensive shift. And since the single-wing attack depends on the precision and effectiveness of two-on-one blocking, Princeton players are taught a bewildering variety, from the simple "shoulder" block to such ramifications as the cross-body, reverse cross-body and "peelback" blocks (i.e., blocks thrown behind the runner, "peeling" them off his back so that he has room to move laterally in his downfield progress...
...year 1951, it was Ike Eisenhower's destiny that the U.S. should look at him over the shoulder of a question mark. When his five-starred Constellation took off from Paris last week, the full-time business of running Europe's defenses may have been uppermost in his mind, but he landed, nonetheless, right in the middle of the biggest question of domestic politics: Is Ike a candidate for President in 1952? Reporters asked it as he landed at New York's Mitchel Field, asked it again when he greeted his grandchildren at Fort Knox...
...shrieking blonde ripped the big tackle's shirt from his shoulder and Charlestoned off through the crowded room, fan-dancing with a ragged sleeve. In her wake, shirts fell in shreds on the floor, until half the male guests roared around bare to the waist. Shouts and laughs rose above the full-volume records from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. The party, celebrating the departure of a University of Texas coed who had flunked out, had begun in midafternoon some three hours earlier. In one corner, four tipsily serious coeds tried to revive a passed-out couple with more salty...