Don Drysdale walked into the dugout and smiled at Maury Wills and rookie Charlie Neal, before throwing his mitt on the bench and giving everyone that smug smile.
The night before, a bunch of fellas from the team were out sucking down bourbans at Toot’s Shor’s joint in Manhattan and made a little bet about that bouncy little fan with the cute overbite.
Drysdale pulled out a torn cocktail napkin from his satin jacket and bragged, “You all owe me a finske because she gave me her phone number.”
Wills snatched it away to inspect and said, “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, I thought you owed me five bucks.”
Charlie Neal leaned over and piped in, dejected, “Whoa, whoa, whoa... she told me dark meat was her thing.”
After deciding which one would call her first, the boys from Ebbets Field looked at one another and decided where tonight's challenge would be.
0 comments from fellow 'Basement' dwellers:
Post a Comment
Say something... Anything...