Thanks for posting

Gonna go buy this issue, I think

http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1157671/1/index.htm

“Oh my God!”

“Who the hell is pitching?”

Earl sounds like me watching an O’s game.

Pat Kelly was avery religious player and always expanding on the good book. Finally Earl told him to just shut up. “But Earl,” Pat said, “don’t you want me to walk with the Lord?” Earl responded, “No, I’d rather you walk with the bases loaded!”

Classic.

Earl Sidney Weaver desperately wants to have more of whatever is being counted than you have. What drove him absolutely crazy as a manager, or absolutely [bleeping] crazy in the Weaver patois, were all the messy obstacles to his simple desire to win. What stood maddeningly in his way, besides the guys on the other side of the field, were ballplayers of his who made outs on the base paths, umpires, people who thought the hit-and-run play was good baseball, sacrifice bunts, umpires, the five-man rotation, that smart-aleck Palmer, umpires, pitchers who didn’t throw strikes, fans who wanted the Orioles to run more and, well … those bleeping umpires.

The subject of cheating brings the conversation to another subject. The Steroid Era, I ask him, does it embarrass you?

“Oh, I don’t know.” The man who would do just about anything to win a ball game pauses for a moment, letting honesty bubble to the surface. “Not really,” he says quietly. “You’re always looking for an edge. And guys, that’s their living. And if a growth hormone helps you be better physically and able to do more things physically … but it just shatters the records.”

Weaver: [To little-used reliever Dave Leonhard before Game 6 of the 1971 World Series] How do you feel, Leonhard?

Leonhard: I feel good. But you never ask me [to pitch].

Weaver: I want you to be ready. Be ready to warm up around the eighth inning.

Leonhard: Earl, I’m honored you’re contemplating using me in a World Series game.

Weaver: I ain’t using you. I just want Palmer to see you warming up so he can pitch better.

“Earl used to have a meeting at the end of spring training every year, and he’d say, ’I’m taking the best 25. If we play together, we have a chance to win.’ It was pretty much the case. Well, one year we weren’t playing so well, and Earl had a meeting. He said, ‘I want to let you know something. I made a mistake.’ We all leaned forward on our stools. Earl was going to admit a mistake! And then he goes, ‘I picked the wrong 25 guys.’”

“I never had a hit-and-run. No sign,” Weaver says. “Here’s the deal. I hear it on the radio and Joe Morgan, for crissakes. Get a guy on first. He walked. The pitcher is 2 and 0 on the next batter. ‘Perfect time for a hit-and-run,’ the announcer says. If the pitcher could throw a strike, don’t you think he would have thrown it to the guy on first?”

None of it made sense to Weaver: asking the runner to get a late, conservative break and the batter to swing at anything when he’s ahead in the count—all against a pitcher who is wild and in trouble. “But the worst is making outs on the bases,” Weaver says. “Run yourself right out of a frickin’ inning.”

I love Earl Weaver.

On my tombstone just write, ‘The sorest loser that ever lived.’

“A manager’s job is simple. For one hundred sixty-two games you try not to screw up all that smart stuff your organization did last December.”

“The key to winning baseball games is pitching, fundamentals, and three run homers.”

“This ain’t a football game, we do this every day. "

" Don’t worry, the fans don’t start booing until July. "

Earl Weaver

of him getting tossed and cursing the ump out.

Absolutely hilarious!

a smile to my face.