I am writing for NotGraphs now and this is my sentimental debut post. I’m not going to add every post I make over there to this blog so go ahead and add the site to your daily reads if you haven’t already. It’ll be worth your while and it is populated by writers much cooler than me. I will be doing some illustrated stuff for them as well! FUN. TIMES.
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.
(can you tell who I’m researching/drawing tonight for a project?)
WOW. I just stumbled upon the work of Feg Murray while looking up pictures of Kiki Cuyler on google image search. I am blown away. I was just telling Lei-Leen yesterday about how I wish I was born 80 years earlier so I could have been a newspaper comic artist, which is what I really feel like Every Hall of Famer is at it’s heart. And then today, I find this. Feg was primarily known for his “Seeing Stars” series, which featured Hollywood celebrities in a format similar to Ripley’s Believe It Or Not. I can’t find much more info on these baseball drawings, but I am so inspired right now! I just want to draw for days.
Baseball bigwigs, eager to round up all forgotten heroes for next year’s centennial, decided that Dan Casey had valid claim to baseball immortality. This spring Oldster Casey, now 76, was rewarded with a lifetime pass to all ball parks, was introduced to the U. S. public on a radio program. Last week, the Baltimore Orioles, whose feats have been almost as integral a part of baseball folklore as Casey’s, invited the latest Maryland celebrity to stage a revival of Casey-at-the-bat as a prologue to a night game with the Jersey City Giants. It rained on “Casey Night.” Dan Casey, neatly garbed in a business suit and Oriole cap, stepped gingerly to the plate, wrapped his gnarled fingers round a bat for the first time in 40 years. From 2,000 throats or more there rose a lusty yell as Oriole Coach Rogers Hornsby, recent manager of the St. Louis Browns, wound up for the special strikeout.
In Bellevue, where Chris still gets up each day for work at 5:30 a.m., the phone doesn’t ring quite as often with the happy promise of his son’s voice. “I used to hear from him every night, even when he played in the Cape Cod League,” Chris says. “As soon as he got to the majors, I [started to] hear from him about once a week. But I understand.
“Timmy’s kind of like my soul mate. I pray for only one thing, and it’s for my sons, and it’s not about the most wins or getting rich. I pray my kids are safe and healthy.”
And suddenly Chris, who is to elocution what Tim is to velocity, actually pauses. There is silence for one beat. When he resumes talking, his voice is much softer, as if now he were speaking only to himself.
“I miss the hell out of him.”
…via the reliably awesome Justin Cox, who said “I am in love with this photo” — & I share his feelings! Also sharing in his upset that A League of Their Own is no longer streaming on netflix. I had it stashed in my queue for a night when it would be needed.
[noted in the comments, but to make it official: this was snagged from the entertaining uniwatch flickr page]
Lincecum doesn’t watch a lot of pregame film, as many pitchers do, to look for vulnerabilities in the hitters he’s about to face. “I stick to my strengths as opposed to going after everyone’s weaknesses,” he told me. “If you can hit it, come hit it.”
I’d like to think that I have the same attitude about life as Timmeh does about pitching.