Shoeless Joe or Charlie Hustle
Just a thought- shouldn't Joe Jackson get into the Hall of Fame if Pete Rose does? Shoeless Joe never had the chance to lobby for himself. Only Field of Dreams and Eight Men Out give him some publicity. I loved Pete Rose as a ball player. He was a catalyst, along with Tug McGraw, Mike Schmidt, Steve Carlton and others in the Phillies World Championship when I lived in Pennsylvania. He was remarkable. But I am not sure he hasn't used up all his good will and has probably hurt his own case with this shameless and ugly showboating with the Hall of Fame announcements and his book promotion.
Then There's Molitor
As far as we can tell, this is one classy ball player. Paul Molitor, in his first year of eligibility, is to enter the Hall of Fame. His wonderful years with the Brewers, the World Series MVP in Toronto (after Bud Selig felt he was too old to be used in Milwaukee), and a final run with the Twins. He and Dennis Eckersley are well-deserved recipients of this baseball honor. Congratulations!!
Groan!
Oxblog asked for some truly bad jokes- and they got them. I just can't resist re-posting this one:
A number of years ago, the Seattle Symphony was performing Beethoven's Ninth under the baton of Milton Katims. At this point you must understand two things: first, there's a long segment in this symphony where the bass violins don't have a single note to play. Not a single note for page after page. And second: there used to be a tavern called Dez's 400 right across the street from the Seattle Opera house, rather favored by local musicians. It had been decided that during this performance, after the bass players had played their parts in the opening of the Ninth, they were to quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage rather than sit on their stools looking and feeling silly for 20 minutes. Well, once they got back stage, someone suggested that they trot across the street and quaff a few brews. After they had downed the first couple rounds, one musician said, "Shouldn't we be getting back? It would be awfully embarrassing if we were late." Another, presumably the one who suggested this excursion in the first place, replied - "Oh, I anticipated we could use a little more time, so I tied a string around the last pages of the conductor's score. When he gets down there, Milton is going to have to slow the tempo way down while he waves the baton with one hand and fumbles with the string with the other." So the group had another round and finally returned to the Opera House, a little tipsy by now. However, as they came back on stage, one look at their conductor's face told them they were is serious trouble. Katims was furious! And why not?
After all......
It was the bottom of the Ninth, the score was tied, and the basses were loaded.
To which I will add this one:
Milt Famey pitched for the old St. Louis Browns. He was a different kind of pitcher as he was tremendous if he had one beer to drink. However, if he drank more than one beer he was terrible. Milt had his one beer and he stepped up to the mound. He pitched a perfect game. He went back to the dugout and downed two more beers. It was a double header and he didn't think he would pitch the second game but they called him to the mound. He took a half finished bottle of beer and put it in his coat pocket that hung in the dugout.
He walked the first four players and it cost them the game.
Disgusted, he returned to the dugout, ripped his coat off the hook and as he did the beer fell to the ground.
One of the players from the other team walked by and was going to give the bottle a kick when the other player stopped him and said,
"Don't kick that beer - that's the beer that made Milt Famey walk us!"
