Word: cowboying
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...race day, he is resting in the team motor home, driving shoes off, blue driving suit unzipped, the neck of his white Nomex long Johns showing. He is thin through the hips, and thinner through the shoulders than when he played the arrogant cowboy stud Hud in an undershirt. He has no belly, although he drinks several cans of Budweiser a day (he has not drunk hard liquor since a boozy period at the beginning of the '70s when he was shooting Sometimes a Great Notion). A daily sauna and a three-mile run seem to take care...
Fast Eddie, the pool shooter who told Jackie Gleason's Minnesota Fats, "I'm the best you've ever seen, Fats, I'm the best there is," is all speed and charm and thin-ice cockiness. Hud Bannon, the surly cowboy womanizer who is the turbulence at the center of Martin Ritt's 1963 film Hud, seems twice the size of Fast Eddie. He is a brawler with the looks of a fallen angel, and he sneers at emotion: "My mother loved me but she died." Hud is rotten. He is trying to have...
...black man dressed incongruously in a cowboy hat and a loud Hawaiian shirt was standing near the entrance, listening to the sounds coming from within. It was George ("Kid Sheik") Colar, 74, a veteran trumpet player with a ready grin and an infectious laugh. Would he recognize me after so long? "Sheik!" The face turned, the eyes looked puzzled for an instant behind their black-rimmed glasses. Then that wonderful laugh shattered the silence...
Even in El Paso, a rough Texas border town with a history of renegades and easy money, the Chagra family stood out. Lee, the eldest, was a flamboyant lawyer with a taste for cocaine who specialized in defending drug dealers. He carried thousands of dollars in his cowboy boots and handed out gold bracelets engraved with his motto, FREEDOM. When he bought a limousine equipped with a bar and television, he also ordered a special nook for the gun he always carried. In December 1978, the night after he picked up the car from the dealer, he was shot...
...with the Braves, and General Manager Joe McDonald, forced out the year before, frolicking with the St. Louis Cardinals, there seems to be little animosity now even for winners. Gene Autry bought the Angels' way into clover this year as surely as any owner ever did. But the cowboy has shown a grace by comparison that makes even wealth forgivable. "Oh, well," Autry comforted Reggie Jackson when Reggie slumped in September. "I made some pretty bad westerns too." Now that's the way to take...