Just say no hitter
Garfield Ridge has a great post up on one of Baseball's true greats: Dock Ellis.
Thirty-five years ago, on June 12, 1970, Pittsburgh Pirate and future Texas Rangers pitcher Dock Ellis found himself in the Los Angeles home of a childhood friend named Al Rambo. Two days earlier, he'd flown with the Pirates to San Diego for a four-game series with the Padres. He immediately rented a car and drove to L.A. to see Rambo and his girlfriend Mitzi. The next 12 hours were a fog of conversation, screwdrivers, marijuana, and, for Ellis, amphetamines. He went to sleep in the early morning, woke up sometime after noon and immediately took a dose of Purple Haze acid.
A bit later, how long exactly he can't recall, he came across Mitzi flipping through a newspaper. She scanned for a moment, then noticed something.
"Dock," she said. "You're supposed to pitch today."
Ellis focused his mind. No. Friday. He wasn't pitching until Friday. He was sure.
"Baby," she replied. "It is Friday. You slept through Thursday."
Dock went on to pitch a no-hitter.
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Yeah... and sometimes the
Yeah... and sometimes the ball felt like a grapefruit and sometimes he couldn't see the hitter.
Just shows to go ya... baseball ain't a game of brains.
I keep thinking of the old
I keep thinking of the old SNL, with Belushi as the track star; he has a smoke going in one hand while pitching "little chocolate donuts".