Word: pitching
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...offer opportunities for rewarding social service. For just that reason, Wyman-Kuchel not only treated Stan Sanders to some Hollywood glamour and an expensive meal last week but also offered to open an office in Watts that would enable him to provide free legal services to the poor. The pitch proved persuasive. A little more than an hour after leaving The Bistro, Sanders gave in and agreed to go to work for the firm...
After one pitch to McGlauglin, Whitney sped toward second before Dorwart had even started his motion. Dorwart quickly fired to second baseman John Ballantyne, but Whitney stopped, forcing Ballantyne to run him down while Medea broke for home. Ballantyne threw home to catcher Jack Turco, and the umpire ruled Medea safe in a close call...
...1700s the marble tournament had become an annual Good Friday ritual in Tinsley Green. The tourney began in the morning; at high noon (the hour Sussex taverns open), the referee cried "Smug!" and the tournament ended. The rules are wondrously simple: 49 marbles are placed in the "pitch" (ring) and each member of the competing teams takes his turn at trying to knock one out. Shooting is a thumbs-only proposition-a flick of the wrist constitutes a "fudge" (foul) and disqualifies the contestant for that round. As in pool, each successful shot merits another, and the team that picks...
...mettle could match Toucan porcelain. But the colonial question had unfortunately been resolved by default: the Americans failed to show. Still, the Toucans were presented an immediate threat by the Johnson Jets of nearby Langley Green, who "killed" Smith in the first round by slamming his tolley off the pitch. But Len's son Alan saved Toucan face by knuckling ten straight hits to lead the Terribles to a 25-20 victory and their 13th consecutive championship. The battle done, Terribles and challengers alike repaired to the Inn, presumably to quaff nut-brown ale and pinch lusty tavern wenches...
...first pitch came in tight. I jumped back and my helmet flew off. There was this tremendous ringing noise. I couldn't stand it. Just a loud shriek all over me. I was trying to find some place in my mouth where I could get air through, but I couldn't breathe. I kept saying to myself, "Oh, God, let me breathe." I didn't think about my future in baseball. I just wanted to stay alive...