July 12, 1990 |
Once there was a church built of bricks and steel where the faithful worshipped on sunny afternoons when the weather was warm and the beer was cold. There the congregants lifted their voices to the artful ministries of Ruth and Gehrig, Roberts and Mays, in a place where salvation came from the bullpen rather than heaven. But as the years passed, the sanctuary on Lehigh Avenue grew old and its ministers came no more. Then, fire plus the wrecking ball left clover and dandelions where once had trod the prophets of baseball.
March 17, 1990 |
Well, irony fans, here's one for the books. A politician who has revealed more of her private life than any candidate in memory is now in a political pickle because she won't answer a question about her private life. Texas Treasurer Ann Richards finished first in the Democratic gubernatorial primary Tuesday, but she's now in a run-off with Attorney General Jim Mattox. And she's still facing the question that bedeviled her campaign in the closing days. The question she will not answer: Did she ever use illegal drugs?
November 9, 1988 |
Hubert H. Humphrey lost an election in Minnesota yesterday. Connie Mack was in a fight. And Gary Hart was trying to become President Reagan's man in Washington. The names may sound familiar, but these aren't the guys you may be thinking about. Humphrey, better known as "Skip," is the Minnesota state attorney general, son and namesake of the late senator and vice president. Humphrey tried to follow his father (and his mother, who held an interim appointment) into the U.S. Senate, but lost to Republican Sen. David Durenberger.
August 6, 1988 |
Moments occasionally arise when baseball owners are required to look not just at dollars but at sense, when immediate financial concerns have to be weighed against a club's long-term good. The Phillies' Bill Giles is in the midst of one these periods of angst now as he considers whether or not to renew Mike Schmidt's contract for 1989. And in the first week of July 1914, Philadelphia Athletics owner/manager Connie Mack was faced with such a decision. Unfortunately for Philadelphia, Mack was swayed by income instead of instinct.
August 7, 1987 |
They called the neighborhood Swampoodle. I never saw a poodle there and the spongy terrain was ancient history by the time I came along, the Cohocksink Creek having been rechanneled into a sewer and buried under miles of asphalt and two-story porch-front rowhouses. The name, actually, was a relic of American slang denoting a poor or low-lying section of a city. Some of the landmarks of Swampoodle were Schillings' bakery and ice cream parlor, St. Columba's Church and the greasy spoon at 22nd and Lehigh whose specialty was red-hot Texas wieners.
August 2, 1987 |
For 50 years and more than 7,500 regular-season games, Connie Mack managed the Philadelphia Athletics to widely varying levels of success on the baseball field. Few recall, however, that for one chilly autumn in 1902 - 18 years before the league that eventually became the National Football League was formed - the austere Mr. Mack managed a professional football team, also called the Philadelphia Athletics. And in the course of a season that lasted less than two months, Mack's team managed to make a lasting name for itself, featuring as it did a Hall of Fame pitcher on the line and playing in both the first night game and first indoor game in professional football history.