Time to show these silly men why it’s worthwhile following baseball. I know they’ve been calling me Crazy Amy over there but that’s because they’re just scared of a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it.
My real name’s Amy Flora Gulliver, named after my great-grandmother Florence, and her heart was bigger and thicker than mine, that’s for sure. Why else would she drown herself in a creek over a ballplayer? Ever hear of Alex Gaston? Well, he was one of the New York Giants’ backup catchers in the 1920s, and Florence spent a night with him that must have been more romantic than anything because when he ditched her she just didn’t want to live anymore.
Then it was Grandma Esther sending about 3,000 love letters in two years to that California boy Harry Danning, the reserve catcher for the Giants in the mid-30s. See, it always makes sense to fall for the backup backstop, because the starting catcher has too many girls on his plate and just won’t make time for you. What’s the difference, right? They’re still catchers and have those cute pudgy butts you wanna bite a chunk out of when they get behind the plate.
My mom was a Johnny Orsino gal, as you might think. She had every one of his baseball cards from the Giants and later the Orioles with pasted-on kisses on each one and didn’t want anything to do with Tom Haller which was too bad because he was a lot better but I understand. The backup thing. Anyway, she died of cancer right before I got put here and I KNOW it was because Johnny wouldn’t pick up the phone and talk to her when she called him on the road.
So now it’s just me and Mike Sadek. He’s like 64 now and I have no clue where he lives, but I know I’ll track him down when I find him. He’s gotta fall for a hot 40-year-old like me. I tried to tell this to every cop who grabbed me outside his place that night but they wouldn’t listen. For God’s sake I didn’t even have the ladder half up.
I heard Buzz Gip had this weird 1977 replay going from Sweeper Sammy, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to get in on the act, because Mike’s on that Giants team and I was going to meet him once and for all. Why settle for some guy in his 60s when I can have the young version with wavy hair and gunslinger moustache? Wouldn’t you do the same thing, girls?
But I’m not going to tell you how I sneaked out of the woman’s wing, or seducted Buzz into lending me his dice for a night, because that’s private information. Some things are meant to stay under a lady’s pillow.
So I put on my brightest red lipstick and sexiest hospital gown, and now I’m shaking these dice babies just for you, Mike Sadek. I’ll be right behind your behind in no time…
Game of the Day
MONTREAL—What the hell is THIS place? Everyone’s talking French! You mean I can’t go to any game I want? And what do you mean the Giants aren’t even in this league?? They finished with the same record as Montreal!
They don’t want me to find Mike, that’s it. They don’t WANT me to enjoy himself. They don’t WANT me to be happy. And now I have to sit and watch the Astros and Expos and I’m not even…Actually…This smoked meat sandwich is pretty darn good…
Bannister against Stanhouse, who I hear through a translating fan next to me hasn’t won a game yet. But this time Parrish and Carter go back-to-back in the 3rd, Vaentine smashes a 3-run job in the 5th, and out goes Floyd B. for the day.
Terry Puhl triples back two of the runs in the 6th, and then Stanhouse has all kinds of grief. Cabell and Roger Metzger walk to start the 6th, pinch-hitter Wilbur Howard doubles, and lefty Schatzeder comes in to pitch. Big Cliff Johnson bats for Ferguson and doubles in two more. A Jose Cruz double two outs later unbelievably ties the game and has everyone swearing in French around me, which sounds kind of cute. Meantime McLaughlin and Ken Forsch start pitching great relief for Houston, maybe because they’re right-handed.
In the top of the 8th, Metzger bunts over Howe and Cabell but Crawford and Ed Herrmann can’t get anyone home. Top of the 9th, though? Different story. Cedeno leads with a double off Kerrigan. Cruz and Puhl walk with one out, and Art Howe skies one out to right, deep enough to score Cedeno easy, and the Astros take the lead.
Parrish singles to begin the Expo 9th, and here’s Carter. I knew girls who thought he was dreamy beyond belief, but he always seemed too stuck up for me and besides Barry Foote was six-foot-three and from North Carolina. Anyway, Gary hits into a force, Valentine grounds into a 6-4-3 and the Astros finish off one heroic comeback.
HOU 000 002 401 – 7 10 0
MTL 002 040 000 – 6 11 0
W-Forsch L-Kerrigan HRS: Parrish, Carter, Valentine GWRBI-Howe
DODGERS 11-16-0, at PHILLIES 2-9-0
Guess the Blue Boys finally got mad enough. Jim Kaat pitches like my great grandmother and the Phils can’t do a blessed thing with Doug Rau. Schmidt and Luzinski both homer, but they’re useless solo shots and very late to the party.
W-Rau L-Kaat HRS: Yeager, Luzinski, Schmidt GWRBI-Russell
CUBS 3-8-1, at REDS 2-5-1
What?? Two losses in a row to the Cubbie weenies?? They didn’t play Bill Plummer, my second favorite hunk, that’s why. Look at Bench here, zero-for-three with a whiff! Sparky is going to pay for this…
W-Renko L-Moskau (lousy Commie) SV-Sutter HR: Driessen GWRBI-Murcer
at PIRATES 4-9-1, CARDS 3-9-0
Duffy Dyer’s kind of a catch, except he has nothing to do with this latest Pirate ambush. Down 3-2 in the last of the 8th, Stargell pinch-hits a walk off lefty Buddy Schultz. Taveas singles with one out and Jim Freaking Fregosi bats for Kison and rips a two-run triple! Tekulve gets the save and the St. Louis boys are beside themselves. For their part, though, Templeton collects two more triples himself and now has an incredible seven!
W-Kison L-Schultz SV-Tekulve GWRBI-Fregosi
There’s no backstop in the American League that gets me going, so whoever does the writing in a couple days will give you all the scores from over there.
National League through Wednesday, April 30