Long before L.A. Dodger pitcher Brian Wilson, in his buzz-cut Mohawk and hillbilly beard, there was Dizzy. And Daffy. And Ducky, Goofy, Babe, Pepper and Yogi – not cartoon characters, but baseball players – great ones, who made America’s pastime playful and fun and sometimes outrageous. Before Peyton and Eli, there were the Mad Duck and Broadway Joe, the Tooz and Golden Boy. Football was not for sissies but for men who jarred loose a few brain cells and bloodied each other’s noses on a Sunday afternoon. Decades before pro golfer John Daly whacked a golf ball out of a stranger’s mouth, Walter Hagen barnstormed the world from Terra Haute to Timbuktu, and the Merry Mex with his army of Lee’s Fleas invaded venerable courses ruled over by the Lords of Golf. Before Lebron, before Shaq and Charles Barkley, even before Pistol Pete and Wilt the Stilt, there was Goose and Meadowlark and little boys with big dreams. Revisit Billie Jean King defending women against sexist pigs like Bobby Riggs, wrestling in its pre-TV heyday, the hilarious escapades, pranksters and jokesters of yester yore and more in this revised and updated collection of rollicking sports anecdotes. This book is very deserving of a 5 star rating. The authors have done an excellent job of portraying these characters and their antics. I ordered it for my Kindle after surfing the store and stumbling upon this gem. I remember parts of the stories from my past and the authors have obviously researched the individuals well. The book navigates well from the table of contents page, so that the reader can jump around to the chosen chapters.This is not the type of book that needs to read in any particular order. I read a large portion while travelling on an airplane. I hope there might be a second volume on the horizon, as we have sports crazies today as well. --Brian Hagen (no relation to Walter) So many hilarious stories. . .here is from chapter 1, close to home:      St. Louis Cardinal manager Gabby Street squinted across the infield to the opposing dugout. A slug-fest threesome to terrorize any pitcher was on-deck: Al Simmons who had hit .381 the previous season, the awesome Jimmy Foxx, and perhaps baseball's greatest catcher at the time -- Jimmy Cochrane. Street glanced down the bench to see which pitcher he'd send in for a sacrificial offering.      The lanky rookie on the end leaned forward and muttered, "Ah shore wish Ol' Diz was a-pitchin," just loud enough for everyone to hear.      "What's that?" Street snapped back.  "Ah wish ah could fog in a few against them fellers," the brash 19-year-old repeated.      Street spit in the dirt and turned back to the field. The Philadelphia batter had dropped his bat and was trotting to first on four balls. The Athletics had loaded the bases with no out.      "All right!" Street snarled at the kid's cockiness. "You want to pitch? So get in there and pitch, and I hope they beat your brains out!"      A big smile broke over the Arkansas farm boy's face as he ambled out to the mound.   Either he didn't know who he was about to face, or he didn't particularly care, because in less than a dozen pitches his fastball rocketed past for three straight strikeouts.      It was only March of 1931, and an exhibition game at that, but when Jerome Herman Dean strutted back to the bench he told Gabby Street, "You shore are lucky ah'm playin' on yo're side, skipper." Street exploded.      That night Dean was on a train, headed back to Houston and the Texas League.  Street reflected later that he could have kept Dean but, "He was too cocky for his own good. The way he was talking to the veterans, somebody was bound to punch him in the nose sooner or later. Maybe the whole team would have pounced on him."      Dean, who had been tagged "Dizzy" because of the way batters reacted to his fast ball, had already stirred the interests of sportswriters with his Minor League theatrics. His first contract was with the Cardinal's St. Joseph, Missouri team. In his debut game against Denver he fanned eight and started the Western League's first recorded triple play. Before his next game he telephoned the rival manager and warned he would pitch his club to victory and hold the enemy to two or three hits. And Dean, a man of his word, did hold the team to two.      But his madcap behavior was arousing attention  off  the field as well. Late one evening he barreled the wrong way down a one-way street and veered off to one side when a car turned in front of him. The car pursued him for several blocks and as it pulled alongside, Dean recognized St. Joseph's Chief of Police. When they next met, Diz greeted him with, "Hiya, Chiefy boy. How you doing?"      Dizzy was promoted to Houston where he seized the limelight by compiling an 8-2 record. After a 12-1 victory, a sheepish Dean walked into the club president's office to apologize for his performance. "What the heck for?" a stunned Fred Ankenman asked.      "What for? Can you imagine them bush lea