Word: niners
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None of us can quite figure out when this obsession with the Forty-Niners began. It must have started some time this summer, though, because when we returned to school this fall, gone were the posters of California surfers, Hawaiian sunsets and her beloved golden retriever. In their place were Forty Niner team schedules, individual pictures of the players, and a monstrous poster of the team in its full splendor. Forty-Niner pennants decorated her bulletin board, and Sunday afternoons were devoted to tracking down the Forty-Niner results, preempting all other television shows if the team happened...
Recently, I am sorry to report, Susan's disease has escalated in severity. When the Forty-Niners were behind the Dallas Cowboys in the recent NFC playoff, Susan was as vocal as any of the men in the Kirkland House television room, screaming her directions to the oblivious coaches on the screen, and exultantly replaying every Forty-Niner first down verbally. When wide receiver Dwight Clark made the amazing catch in the final seconds of the game that lifted the Forty-Niners to victory, Susan was almost deranged in her delight. In fact, my normally frugal roommate called home...
With the Super Bowl fast approaching, Susan has lapsed into total Forty-Niner adoration. A record that recently arrived in the mail from home entitled, "Go Forty-Niners" blasts from our stereo system constantly. Although we tolerated almost any form of music--from opera to disco--this song has driven all of us away in despair. A cross between hokey Western nasal twanging and weak rock-and-roll, this particular fight song--coined especially for Sunday's big event--boasts cloying lyrics like, "Go Forty-Niners/Take it all the way/You can win the Super Bowl/And keep the trophy...
Gold prospecting ain't what it used to be. The old Forty-Niner went West to make a fortune all by himself. Today the new breed organizes, suits up in pinstripe, and tries to dig gold out of an obscure clause in 85-year-old bonds. This week the 300 members of the Gold Bondholders Protective Council plan to file a class-action suit in Anchorage, Alaska, that could force several companies and states to pay off $1 billion in long-term bond debt in gleaming gold...
This cotton-picker name of Red Vine from the Dirty Side was rolling a pregnant skate through Watergate town other day when he passed the home twenty of lady breaker First Mama. There was no city kitty so, mercysakes, Red hammered off, keyed his rig and called "Breaker one-niner for KUY-9532. "Negative copy. That foxy lady wasn 't hanging out, didn 't have her ears on. Good buddy told her anyway, "You truck 'em easy now, Apple Betty. Eighty-eights and ten, roger...