Word: breathing
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Gooden does know. His mildly sprained ankle this winter almost panicked Wall Street. "All pitchers hold their breath about arm injuries," he says. "Mostly, people hold their breath around pitchers, especially young fastball pitchers." And yet, says Mets Trainer Steve Garland, "of all the pitchers we have, Dwight's the one I least expect to get hurt." His motion is flexible and his fundamentals flowing; the really heavy work falls to his legs, which are as thick as the rest of him is lithe. "Some pitchers who are overpowering," Tom Seaver says, "you can see the clock is ticking down...
...still face a legal battle; the Jobes' request to remove the feeding tube goes to court this week. However helpful, the A.M.A.'s new ruling cannot ease the heartbreak for families weighing such a decision. It is one thing to shut off a machine that is forcing the breath of life into inert lungs. It is emotionally far harder to withdraw the staff of life, even if it is dripping through a tube...
...avail. Emack and Bolio's, Herrell's, Baskin Robbin's, and Brigham's all had mile-long queues. And by the time the bunch arrived at Store 24, there were only four minutes remaining in the recess, so the group returned to Emerson 105 empty-handed and out of breath...
With such novels as Wise Virgin (1983) and Scandal, or Priscilla's Kindness (1984), English Author A.N. Wilson has won increasing renown as a satirist in the classic mode, a chronicler of lofty ideals and comic, mortal diminutions. His name has been mentioned in the same breath with that of Evelyn Waugh; comparisons to Barbara Pym have not been lacking. Readers aware of Wilson's reputation will naturally turn to Gentlemen in England expecting some laughs and intelligent fun. They will not be disappointed, but they may be surprised by the range of humors that arise in the course...
...nervous silence fell over the audience as the General Secretary paused to catch his breath. Throughout the opening day of the 27th Soviet Communist Party Congress, Mikhail Gorbachev, standing behind a polished wood lectern emblazoned with a hammer and sickle, had hectored and preached with passion and zeal. Caught by a momentary fit of coughing, he inhaled deeply and scanned the thousands of faces that filled the plush red seats before him. Offhandedly, Gorbachev remarked, "I am coming to the end." Hesitantly at first, then in mounting waves, appreciative laughter swept through the cavernous Kremlin Palace of Congresses...