Word: wilde
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Fighting for Life. Elaborate engineering works built over decades were disdainfully brushed aside by the rampaging Rio Grande-which is known to Mexicans as Rio Bravo, the Wild River. Flicking away a heavy, 200-ft. weir at the junction of a main emergency floodway and a small subordinate channel, the 44.3-ft. tide poured into Mercedes and Harlingen, where a Spanish-speaking radio station ominously warned: "Get the lame, blind and old people to high land." But there is no high land in Harlingen (pop. 41,100), a citrus-market city 36 ft. above sea level, and the pitifully inadequate...
...flocked to the colors by the thousands. Wealthy contributers gave yachts, and financed whole regiments to help relieve the beleaguered Cuban revolutionaries after decades of Spanish oppression. No matter that the President, all but one of his Cabinet, and much of the business community opposed a fight with Spain. Wild enthusiasm for war had been whipped up by the "yellow" journalism of the day, particularly by Pulitzer's New York World and Hearst's New York Journal. Letters calling for war came in from every part of the country. One angry Senator burst into Assistant Secretary of State...
Vargas went wild in the final quarter, singlehandedly making mincemeat out of the enemy defense to score two more goals. The international duo of Ahmed Yehia (Rolle, Switz.) and Lutz Hoeppner (Bombay, India) combined for the sixth and final Harvard goal. Yehia, the starting-center forward, drilled a pass to his right, and Hoeppner was there to get it, and kick a twenty-footer past the goalie...
...sound drove Harrelson's weak bouncer higher and higher until Versalles had no time to make the play. Chance was through, and the moment one saw Worthington, a relief pitcher burdened with a big belly, one was sure of victory. He threw two wild pitches. Another run scored. We leaned against each other, laughing, yelling, clapping strangers on the back and shoulders, Killebrew made an error. The fifth run came home, and we were close to our team, close to each other in this communion service...
...Petrocelli cupped a feeble pop-up for the final out, the crowd spilled on-to the field. The Fall had begun. It was a reckless, selfish attempt to prolong that wild earlier feeling. But delirium turned to confusion, and the unskilled, inexperienced teenagers seized on greed to disguise dismay. Love became violence. They tore at Lonborg's uniform, dug their fingers into the mound, striped the bases, raped the scoreboard...