Polo Quotes - page 2
I'm nostalgic for the future I knew as a kid. Back then, it was a lovely, bleepy, heavenly land populated by svelte men in white polo necks, who would lounge on big white sofas sipping blue wine from big glass globes, beside women like the ones on the covers of Hedkandi chill out compilations.
Peter Baynham
Nor was my attendance at the Polo Grounds limited to baseball games. I sat in the lower left field stands to watch the championship professional football game between the undefeated Chicago Bears led by Bronc Nagurski and the New York Giants. Because the field was so icy slick-the temperature dipped to four degrees above zero that Sunday afternoon-the Giants' owner Wellington Mara had a minion at halftime break into Manhattan College's gymnasium and steal the school's basketball sneakers. Clad in sneakers and suddenly able to keep from sliding all over the joint, the Giants turned a 13-3 deficit into a 30-13 victory. All this despite an advisory to his teammates from a former Chicago linebacker named George Halas, "Step on their toes! Step on their toes!"
Arnold Hano
He wanted to win so badly it killed him. But before it killed him, it elevated the game of baseball, at the Polo Grounds, to a grim spectacle of play-war. The analogy fits McGraw. He reminds you more of a battlefield general than he does a sportsman, and if he reminds you of a general, it would be a man who combined the fury of a Patton and the spectacular, yet knowledgeable, flair of MacArthur. Perhaps this desire to win occasionally overflowed its normal limits and became an obsession; perhaps the grimness darkened the sport at times. This was his weakness, for McGraw was not infallible; McGraw was not perfect. Perfection is lifeless, mechanical, uncaring. McGraw was never uncaring. If he was anything, he was a man who cared.
Arnold Hano
Sometimes in his last years they'd take him out after maybe seven innings and put in Sammy Byrd or some other right fielder for defensive purposes because he was getting pretty out of shape. And we kids, we knew better, we knew the rule, but we'd yell "We want the Babe! We want the Babe!” from the seventh inning until the ninth inning. Once in a while he'd come out of the dugout and he'd lift up his cap or do something like that. We knew he couldn't come back into the lineup, but that didn't stop us. That's the way we were. We loved him, and he loved us, which was very nice. A great combination. I'd see him in his great polo coat on Broadway sometimes, with his jaunty cap, and his wife and daughter walking along. He was just wonderful.
Arnold Hano
The impregnability of his stonewall defense rested on his ability to reach the ball, and then throw it. Now he could move less well; now he was not coming up with the ball with that "perfect technique" Eddie Brannick had once admired, his body beautifully balanced, the ball directly in front of him. Now it was a movement full of desperate lunges. Fortunately he had his great arm, so even off-balance, he was throwing out runners, and each time he'd throw-though it had happened hundreds of prior times-the fans at the Polo Grounds, or elsewhere around the league, would gasp at the low blur that streaked across the diamond, dead on target. But he had more than a powerful arm. He had courage. And on he played, in pain and out.
Arnold Hano
"I no play so gut yet," the Puerto Rican star tried to explain yesterday. "Me like hot weather, veree hot. I no run fast cold weather. No get warm in cold. No get warm, no play gut. You see." Clemente likes Forbes Field and Connie Mack Stadium the best of all the parks he's played in but has a strong dislike for Ebbets Field and the Polo Grounds because of the crazy bounces the balls take as they ricochet off the walls.
Roberto Clemente
Roberto Clemente's triple in the big seventh inning of the opener yesterday went far over Bell's head in dead center, landed on the warning track and hit the ball on one hop. Must have traveled 450 feet in the air and would have been a homer in any National League park except Forbes Field and the Polo Grounds.
Roberto Clemente