Word: hangers
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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With Yankee Veteran Allie Reynolds pitching brilliant, two-hit ball, the 66,222 fans had seen some of the tightest precision baseball since the days of Christy Mathewson and Chief Bender. But there was no delirium in the stands; coming as it did after cliff-hanger finales in both pennant races, this hitless brand of play was not the kind to inspire frenzied cheering. In the second game, the story was almost the same, in reverse. Brooklyn's skinny, curve-balling lefthander, Preacher Roe, gave up only six scattered hits while his teammates babied the one-run lead they...
...Good Clothes Hanger. Working with a less accomplished model, the photographer might spend hours trying to prod and push her into the proper pose. But not with Lisa. With a dancer's discipline and grace, she responds instantly to the photographer's every direction, almost before it is spoken. Her body (bust and hips 34 in.) is so supple that she can pull in her normally 23-inch waist to 18 inches. She has the gift of mimicry every good model needs, and a keen fashion sense. Once, she appeared 103 times in a single issue...
...years of pursuing the fast buck around the national capital, weedy Little John Maragon never seemed to be getting anywhere. He was an anxious glad-hander of big men, a hanger-on at the White House, a willing errand-runner and a great fellow for cadging free rides in official trains and limousines. But he lived in a middlebrow house in the suburbs, moaned about the cost of groceries, and looked like a part-time shoe clerk. Most of the capital was inclined to agree when his fellow countryman, Greek-born Promoter William G. Helis, said...
...Jersey Joe Walcott, never a dashing crowd-pleaser, was old (35) and tired. His opponent, thin-mustached Ezzard Charles of Cincinnati, was young enough (27), but he was a second-rater without punch or drive. Just before they squared off in Chicago's Comiskey Park last week, a hanger-on wriggled in to where Joe Louis sat in the fourth row and asked breathlessly: "Champ, have you got a last-minute pick?" Deadpan Joe, the front man for boxing's new promotional monopoly, mumbled forthrightly: "Ain't doin' any pickin' . . . I didn...
Last week, in the opulent gloom of movie theaters in Manhattan and Chicago, the lovely woman screamed & screamed. For a moment, the scene looked exactly like the old-fashioned thrill shot that moviemakers call a "cliff-hanger." But what moviegoers were actually getting was a breathtaking glimpse of an abyss in the infinite mountains of the mind...