HEY, WILLIE!
Recently you mentioned Bill “Spaceman” Lee. He is still pitching at the age of 75.
He pitches for the Burlington Cardinals of the Vermont Senior Baseball League. My son plays on the team. I asked him if anyone calls him “Spaceman.” He said everyone calls him Mr. Lee.
Also, I’m from Indiana. The best breaded pork tenderloin sandwich is found only in Southern Indiana. Decades ago, listening to the Indy 500 was better than watching it. By the way, the Indy 500 is run in the town of Speedway, not Indianapolis.
HOOSIER
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HEY, HOOSIER!
I missed it, but apparently the old left-hander was in town a couple weeks back, throwing an inning during the Savannah Bananas’ highly successful visit to Jackie Robinson Ballpark.
I’ve watched some video of Lee’s recent efforts and gotta say, he didn’t throw much harder in the ’70s than he does in his 70s.
And thanks for the geography lesson and broadcast critique. By the way, recent back-and-forth has coerced me to make arrangements to attend my first Indianapolis 500 this year. The lengths a guy will strive in order to eat a proper tenderloin sammich.
HEY, WILLIE!
My hubby turned me on to your column in the Rochester (N.Y.) Democrat & Chronicle. It is now my favorite read of the week.
Thank you so much for your analysis and humor on the weekly NASCAR page. I find your rankings interesting and will start saving the paper to see how well you did on race day.
Anyway, thanks for making my week brighter (it’s still pretty gray weather here in Fairport, N.Y.).
KATIE
HEY, KATIE!
Over at the headquarters of our critically acclaimed NASCAR This Week page, the Boys in Diversity (I know, I know) have redoubled their efforts to rebuild our audience of wives, which began lagging when Jeff Gordon retired.
Good to see all the workshops (and your husband’s efforts) are paying off.
And while recognizing that everyone’s an editor, forget your idea of validating our picks and rankings. When you get into the pickin’ & rankin’ game, a key prerequisite is a short memory — non-existent, actually. We learn to self-validate as second-semester sophomores.
Meanwhile, my magic weather orb says you’re sneaking into the low 50s next week in Fairport. Time to hit Barranco’s and get some new flip-flops!
HEY, WILLIE!
Love your recent three-dot columns in the News-Journal. It’s always been a good journalistic concept.
However, in crediting past three-dot columnists, you haven’t recognized the late famed columnist from the San Francisco Chronicle, Herb Caen. Check out the anthology of his columns called “Baghdad-by-the Bay.”
JIM O
HEY, JIM!
An inherent issue with the three-dotter is you often get a big glob of gray type running together, without paragraph breaks . . . Human nature takes over and the eyeballs instinctively avert their gaze from such chunks of verbiage . . . Therefore, to do one properly, you should be pretty damn interesting . . . Yet I’ve done it, did it, and will do it again . . . Apologies to the Herb Caen Foundation.
HEY, WILLIE!
After their round, Bill and Ted were arguing about the rules of golf. It seems that Bill had taken one too many liberties in defeating Ted.
Feeling challenged, Bill said, “OK, tomorrow, we play the ball as you find it. No rolling the ball, no drops, no gimmes, nothing. You still can’t beat me.”
On the fifth hole, Ted’s ball came to rest on the cart path. “Surely I get to move it from here,” he said.
“Nope,” Bill said. “Play it as you find it.”
Miffed, Ted grabbed an iron and took six or seven practice swings, sparks flying everywhere. Then more sparks as he hit the ball, carving it around a tree and onto the green.
“Wow, nice shot,” Bill said. “What’d you hit there?”
“Your 6-iron,” Ted said.
BRAD H
HEY, BRAD!
Thanks(?) for accepting the invite to send along favorite golf jokes. Somewhere out there is a market for such things.
I’m poking around for that market, and while there are few guarantees in life, here’s one: If found, I won’t find a way to monetize it.
HEY, WILLIE!
Fred Sanford had more “big ones” than Daytona and Talladega combined.
TRIPP
HEY, TRIPP!
Good one.
And it’s Fred “G” Sanford. S-a-n-f-o-r-d, period. Good stuff.
— Reach Ken Willis at ken.willis@news-jrnl.com