I can't throw a good curve ball, or really at all, and I was a good fucking baseball player. If I threw hard the ball would move, but it wasn't on purpose and it was more of a slider. Throwing from SS (of course I played SS - I'm Cuban) to first, the first basemen would sometimes complain "don't make the ball fucking move when you're throwing to me." But could never throw the curve.
OTOH, from the time I was around 13 or so I could throw the knuckle and even somewhat accurately, and I personally knew very few people who could do it. Every fourth or fifth try that fucking thing would move all over the place.
But alas I always wanted to be able to throw the breaking ball and couldn't get the right "snap" at the very end of the motion to make it happen.
One of my life's greater disappointments. The current state of the Hurricanes being another.
I can't throw a good curve ball, or really at all, and I was a good fucking baseball player. If I threw hard the ball would move, but it wasn't on purpose and it was more of a slider. Throwing from SS (of course I played SS - I'm Cuban) to first, the first basemen would sometimes complain "don't make the ball fucking move when you're throwing to me." But could never throw the curve.
OTOH, from the time I was around 13 or so I could throw the knuckle and even somewhat accurately, and I personally knew very few people who could do it. Every fourth or fifth try that fucking thing would move all over the place.
But alas I always wanted to be able to throw the breaking ball and couldn't get the right "snap" at the very end of the motion to make it happen.
One of my life's greater disappointments. The current state of the Hurricanes being another.
You could have been Mariano Rivera before there was Mariano Rivera...he was a shortstop that cut the ball as a kid in Panama...
I was there, too. My grandpa and Gaylord were pals. We sat with Gaylord's late wife and late son that night. I have a signed game ball inscribed #300. Awesome dude. I talk to him about once a year. My sister married one of GP's teammate's sons. CSB
This hangs in our hallway
Not-so-humble brag.
What about you, Mr. "I once ran into Bernie Kozar at a Circle K in Jacksonville, FL circa 1997"?
Over the years, I’ve had many pitchers want to throw knuckleballs, until I explain why it isn’t a good idea….if they are good, no one can hit them, but no one can catch them. If they are less than good, everyone can hit them, and no one can catch them…
I was there, too. My grandpa and Gaylord were pals. We sat with Gaylord's late wife and late son that night. I have a signed game ball inscribed #300. Awesome dude. I talk to him about once a year. My sister married one of GP's teammate's sons. CSB
This hangs in our hallway
Not-so-humble brag.
What about you, Mr. "I once ran into Bernie Kozar at a Circle K in Jacksonville, FL circa 1997"?
I think you have mistaken me for another poster. But if I did post that, it was a lie. Never met Kosar, but what a fucking player.
Plus, I have something WAY fucking cooler than that which actually did happen. My Two Dads used to take me to this great Cuban restaurant that was the proverbial hole in the wall in SW Miami. He went there all the time and one day brought home a napkin with, supposably, Ted Williams' auto on it. My Dad could be a bull shitter and it was legit 50/50 whether this was real. He insisted that he ate there all the time at the counter and that he got his auto. The owner, who my Dad knew, told him he was in there all the time, but not to ask for an auto because he was grumpy (much like Bill Russell is reputed to be). My Dad, being who he is, gave no fucks and, so the story went, asked for one anyway and got it. Sure Pops.
Anyway, several years later we go and eat there, and lo and behold, I see Teddy Ball Game sitting at the fucking counter. I'm in my mid-teens by now and at that stage at which you think you are more important than you'll ever actually be. Plus, Ted Williams was just a name and picture to me (I had all those sports history books when I was a kid), but well before my time. I'd have been 50x more star struck to see Dan Marino than TW at that point in my life. Anywho, I go up to him, introduce myself as if he'd give a flying fuck, and ask for an auto. Didn't smile, didn't talk much, but gave me an auto on the same kind of napkin my Dad had brought home.
So, to clear it up, any Kosar stories I've told are made up. This one isn't, and thankfully, I still have both napkins. Ted Fucking Williams bitches.
In a previous life as a scout, doing big league coverage, a colleague kept calling Johnny Damon “Shania”…when asked why, he sang “Man, he throws like a woman”…csb
I was there, too. My grandpa and Gaylord were pals. We sat with Gaylord's late wife and late son that night. I have a signed game ball inscribed #300. Awesome dude. I talk to him about once a year. My sister married one of GP's teammate's sons. CSB
This hangs in our hallway
Not-so-humble brag.
What about you, Mr. "I once ran into Bernie Kozar at a Circle K in Jacksonville, FL circa 1997"?
I think you have mistaken me for another poster. But if I did post that, it was a lie. Never met Kosar, but what a fucking player.
Plus, I have something WAY fucking cooler than that which actually did happen. My Two Dads used to take me to this great Cuban restaurant that was the proverbial hole in the wall in SW Miami. He went there all the time and one day brought home a napkin with, supposably, Ted Williams' auto on it. My Dad could be a bull shitter and it was legit 50/50 whether this was real. He insisted that he ate there all the time at the counter and that he got his auto. The owner, who my Dad knew, told him he was in there all the time, but not to ask for an auto because he was grumpy (much like Bill Russell is reputed to be). My Dad, being who he is, gave no fucks and, so the story went, asked for one anyway and got it. Sure Pops.
Anyway, several years later we go and eat there, and lo and behold, I see Teddy Ball Game sitting at the fucking counter. I'm in my mid-teens by now and at that stage at which you think you are more important than you'll ever actually be. Plus, Ted Williams was just a name and picture to me (I had all those sports history books when I was a kid), but well before my time. I'd have been 50x more star struck to see Dan Marino than TW at that point in my life. Anywho, I go up to him, introduce myself as if he'd give a flying fuck, and ask for an auto. Didn't smile, didn't talk much, but gave me an auto on the same kind of napkin my Dad had brought home.
So, to clear it up, any Kosar stories I've told are made up. This one isn't, and thankfully, I still have both napkins. Ted Fucking Williams bitches.
I made that up as a joke. I figured you and I are familar with each other enough that I could throw a jab like that and you'd laugh and counter. I know you never actually said that.
I once read an interview with Richard Ben Cramer and he talked about his epic piece on Ted Williams for Esquire in 1986. And he talked about how Williams always viewed fans as "gnats at his neck". His MO was to grab the nearest napkin and write his autograph and hand it to them.
I was there, too. My grandpa and Gaylord were pals. We sat with Gaylord's late wife and late son that night. I have a signed game ball inscribed #300. Awesome dude. I talk to him about once a year. My sister married one of GP's teammate's sons. CSB
This hangs in our hallway
Not-so-humble brag.
What about you, Mr. "I once ran into Bernie Kozar at a Circle K in Jacksonville, FL circa 1997"?
I think you have mistaken me for another poster. But if I did post that, it was a lie. Never met Kosar, but what a fucking player.
Plus, I have something WAY fucking cooler than that which actually did happen. My Two Dads used to take me to this great Cuban restaurant that was the proverbial hole in the wall in SW Miami. He went there all the time and one day brought home a napkin with, supposably, Ted Williams' auto on it. My Dad could be a bull shitter and it was legit 50/50 whether this was real. He insisted that he ate there all the time at the counter and that he got his auto. The owner, who my Dad knew, told him he was in there all the time, but not to ask for an auto because he was grumpy (much like Bill Russell is reputed to be). My Dad, being who he is, gave no fucks and, so the story went, asked for one anyway and got it. Sure Pops.
Anyway, several years later we go and eat there, and lo and behold, I see Teddy Ball Game sitting at the fucking counter. I'm in my mid-teens by now and at that stage at which you think you are more important than you'll ever actually be. Plus, Ted Williams was just a name and picture to me (I had all those sports history books when I was a kid), but well before my time. I'd have been 50x more star struck to see Dan Marino than TW at that point in my life. Anywho, I go up to him, introduce myself as if he'd give a flying fuck, and ask for an auto. Didn't smile, didn't talk much, but gave me an auto on the same kind of napkin my Dad had brought home.
So, to clear it up, any Kosar stories I've told are made up. This one isn't, and thankfully, I still have both napkins. Ted Fucking Williams bitches.
I made that up as a joke. I figured you and I are familar with each other enough that I could throw a jab like that and you'd laugh and counter. I know you never actually said that.
I once read an interview with Richard Ben Cramer and he talked about his epic piece on Ted Williams for Esquire in 1986. And he talked about how Williams always viewed fans as "gnats at his neck". His MO was to grab the nearest napkin and write his autograph and hand it to them.
Very cool story though, thank you. Teddy Ballgame
Never knew that. So he stayed true to form in our case. Napkin. What an asshole ... and great player.
I was there, too. My grandpa and Gaylord were pals. We sat with Gaylord's late wife and late son that night. I have a signed game ball inscribed #300. Awesome dude. I talk to him about once a year. My sister married one of GP's teammate's sons. CSB
This hangs in our hallway
Not-so-humble brag.
What about you, Mr. "I once ran into Bernie Kozar at a Circle K in Jacksonville, FL circa 1997"?
I think you have mistaken me for another poster. But if I did post that, it was a lie. Never met Kosar, but what a fucking player.
Plus, I have something WAY fucking cooler than that which actually did happen. My Two Dads used to take me to this great Cuban restaurant that was the proverbial hole in the wall in SW Miami. He went there all the time and one day brought home a napkin with, supposably, Ted Williams' auto on it. My Dad could be a bull shitter and it was legit 50/50 whether this was real. He insisted that he ate there all the time at the counter and that he got his auto. The owner, who my Dad knew, told him he was in there all the time, but not to ask for an auto because he was grumpy (much like Bill Russell is reputed to be). My Dad, being who he is, gave no fucks and, so the story went, asked for one anyway and got it. Sure Pops.
Anyway, several years later we go and eat there, and lo and behold, I see Teddy Ball Game sitting at the fucking counter. I'm in my mid-teens by now and at that stage at which you think you are more important than you'll ever actually be. Plus, Ted Williams was just a name and picture to me (I had all those sports history books when I was a kid), but well before my time. I'd have been 50x more star struck to see Dan Marino than TW at that point in my life. Anywho, I go up to him, introduce myself as if he'd give a flying fuck, and ask for an auto. Didn't smile, didn't talk much, but gave me an auto on the same kind of napkin my Dad had brought home.
So, to clear it up, any Kosar stories I've told are made up. This one isn't, and thankfully, I still have both napkins. Ted Fucking Williams bitches.
I made that up as a joke. I figured you and I are familar with each other enough that I could throw a jab like that and you'd laugh and counter. I know you never actually said that.
I once read an interview with Richard Ben Cramer and he talked about his epic piece on Ted Williams for Esquire in 1986. And he talked about how Williams always viewed fans as "gnats at his neck". His MO was to grab the nearest napkin and write his autograph and hand it to them.
Very cool story though, thank you. Teddy Ballgame
Never knew that. So he stayed true to form in our case. Napkin. What an asshole ... and great player.
True story... He would go to restaurants and pay for the meal with a check... knowing full well that they'd never cash it and hang it on their wall.
Comments
OTOH, from the time I was around 13 or so I could throw the knuckle and even somewhat accurately, and I personally knew very few people who could do it. Every fourth or fifth try that fucking thing would move all over the place.
But alas I always wanted to be able to throw the breaking ball and couldn't get the right "snap" at the very end of the motion to make it happen.
One of my life's greater disappointments. The current state of the Hurricanes being another.
Plus, I have something WAY fucking cooler than that which actually did happen. My Two Dads used to take me to this great Cuban restaurant that was the proverbial hole in the wall in SW Miami. He went there all the time and one day brought home a napkin with, supposably, Ted Williams' auto on it. My Dad could be a bull shitter and it was legit 50/50 whether this was real. He insisted that he ate there all the time at the counter and that he got his auto. The owner, who my Dad knew, told him he was in there all the time, but not to ask for an auto because he was grumpy (much like Bill Russell is reputed to be). My Dad, being who he is, gave no fucks and, so the story went, asked for one anyway and got it. Sure Pops.
Anyway, several years later we go and eat there, and lo and behold, I see Teddy Ball Game sitting at the fucking counter. I'm in my mid-teens by now and at that stage at which you think you are more important than you'll ever actually be. Plus, Ted Williams was just a name and picture to me (I had all those sports history books when I was a kid), but well before my time. I'd have been 50x more star struck to see Dan Marino than TW at that point in my life. Anywho, I go up to him, introduce myself as if he'd give a flying fuck, and ask for an auto. Didn't smile, didn't talk much, but gave me an auto on the same kind of napkin my Dad had brought home.
So, to clear it up, any Kosar stories I've told are made up. This one isn't, and thankfully, I still have both napkins. Ted Fucking Williams bitches.
I once read an interview with Richard Ben Cramer and he talked about his epic piece on Ted Williams for Esquire in 1986. And he talked about how Williams always viewed fans as "gnats at his neck". His MO was to grab the nearest napkin and write his autograph and hand it to them.
Very cool story though, thank you. Teddy Ballgame