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Titel: Slouching Toward Fargo:: A Two-Year Saga Of ...
Verlag: William Morrow
Zustand: Very Good
Zustand des Schutzumschlags: Dust Jacket Included
Auflage: 1st Edition
0380974843 Very good in Very good nicked dust jacket. First Edition. Quality, Value, Experience. Media Shipped in New Boxes. For further information or scans please call or email. Buchnummer des Verkäufers BING90514525
Inhaltsangabe: In this era of spoiled millionaire athletes and Big Business baseball, the pure, honest spirit of the Game is alive and well in America's heartland--if also a bit deranged.
In Slouching Toward Fargo, Neal Karlen describes his two-year journey with the St. Paul Saints--the most audacious bush-league ballclub ever to plumb the bottom of the pro sports barrel. A motley collection of has-beens, hopefuls, rejects and mutts who've all been ignored or banished by the majors, "Da Saints" have become a national phenomenon for playing with as much gust off the field as on, while proudly adhering to the timeless sports credo that it takes heart, skill and cheap theatrics to plant devoted butts in stadium seats.
Where else but in St. Paul could you find a 300-pound pig playing the role of a ball boy? Where else can otherwise normal fans do battle during the 7th-Inning Stretch while wearing giant sumo suits? Where else but in the Saints' ever-sold-out Midway Stadium can 6,329 die-hard fans get a back rub from a nun for $5 a pop? No gimmick is too weird for the Saints as long as it's fun--just what you'd expect from a club co-owned by comedian and team Czar Bill Murray and run by Mike Veeck, son of legendary promoter Bill Veeck and organizer of the biggest promotional disaster in the history of organized ball, Disco Demolition Night. With a small team in a small town, they've shown America that all the Bud Seligs in baseball aren't worth one pre-game Bar Mitzvah on the field.
And where but in St. Paul, just down the road from the rehab clinics of Hazelden, would you find so many second chances and even more last or only chances? Neal takes you into the dugout with the infamous Darryl Strawberry as he starts his comeback to the majors and World Series glory, and into the locker room with Jack Morris, baseball's biggest bastard and winningest pitcher in the '80s, who would one day vanish from the team without a trace. In this era of spoiled millionaire athletes and Big Business baseball, the pure, honest spirit of the Game is alive and well in America's heartland--if also a bit deranged.
Rezension: Any baseball book beginning with a descriptive list of characters that includes a Benedictine nun, the hold-out college player of the year, a woman pitcher, a 300-pound pig, a seemingly washed-up Darryl Strawberry, a blind announcer, comedian Bill Murray, Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner, and the spirit of Bill Veeck--the game's greatest showman--hovering over it all as the holy ghost, is a book that swings for the fences. Slouching Toward Fargo does go deep, even off the deep end at times. The really amazing thing is that it's all true.
A resourceful veteran writer, Karlen spends the summers of 1996 and 1997 following the mismatched misfits who mold themselves into the St. Paul Saints of the unaffiliated A-level Northern League, one of the strangest clubs in one of the oddest leagues in the history of organized baseball. On one level, his chronicle is a certified hoot; the presence of team owners Murray and Mike Veeck, who inherited his father's gene for baseball theatrics, ensures that Fargo flirts with the unpredictable. But this is also a circumspect tale filled with second chances--not the least of which is Karlen's own redemption as a journalist, which resonates in counterpoint throughout. His adventure begins at a personal crisis point when he accepts an assignment from Wenner, who's had a longstanding grudge against Murray, to follow the comedian and do a hatchet-job on him for Rolling Stone. Karlen needs the check, sure, but he needs a reality check too. "It was time to put my scorecard in order," he admits; after all, this isn't his grudge. Can you hear the bass chord of conscience beginning to thrum? "As I followed the team, I would be searching for some clue to my own battered spirit." By the end of his journey, both the clues and the Saints entertainingly add up to a winning volume and a winning team. --Jeff Silverman
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