ON THIS SMORGASBORD, SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE

(Probably)

By Scott Ostler
Special to The Free Press

SAN FRANCISCO, Calif. Nov. 11, 1994 -- Welcome to the Saturday Smorgasbord, which is Swedish for ``hodgepodge of stale leftovers with no central theme.'' Bon appetite, amigos. Buss your own trays, please, and remember the house rule: Take all you want, but eat all you take.

My impeccable. (OK, semi-peccable) sources tell me that Chris Webber and the Warriors are close on a new contract, which will contain:

1. A no-holler clause. Coach Don Nelson cannot holler at Webber, except to warn the gifted power forward that he is about to be run over by a truck, and even then Nelson may not use the phrase ``big dummy.'' Any constructive criticism Nelson has in regards to Webber's basketball must be Faxed to Webber's agent, or his agent's agent, and the Fax will then be edited so as not to offend Webber, and forwarded to him via registered mail.

During games, of course, Nelson can holler at Webber, but only ``positive, constructive'' messages, i.e. ``You the man, Chris!''

2. An ``Advisory'' clause. The Warriors will be required to seek Webber's permission before even thinking about any kind of trade involving any Warrior. Webber was upset when the Warriors traded his good pal, Billy Owens, even though the trade meant Webber would no longer have to play center, which he whined about last year, and that the Warriors now have a shot at the NBA title, which is supposedly one of the main goals of a basketball player, and even though IT'S NONE OF WEBBER'S GODDAM CRYBABY BUSINESS WHO THE WARRIORS TRADE ... Excuse me, my evil twin briefly wrested control of my keyboard.

3. A day-to-day escape clause. Webber can leave the team at any time, physically or mentally, even in mid-game, for any reason, especially if Don Nelson glares at him really hard, or if the Gatorade isn't properly chilled.

***

Don't call yourself a true sports fan if you don't get misty- eyed at the retirement of one of the great ones. But enough about Richard Ravich.

No, a few more words of tribute to the man known as Big Dick:

The Ravich Era ended last week when the major league baseball owners decided their chief negotiator had lost his fastball. Or maybe they discovered that he never had a fastball in the first place, and that his screwball wasn't fooling anybody. But that doesn't really matter, does it?

What matters is that we're going to miss the big lug. (Or was he small? How come nobody is ever called a small lug?) He truly was one of a kind. I don't remember another person, ever, named Richard Ravich. He brought a unique brand of smug, self- righteous lawyer-ness to the game of baseball.

We'll always remember the nights gathered around the TV set, eating popcorn and drinking 150 proof straight vodka, waiting for the news, watching Ravich do his thing, hurling the empty Vodka bottle at the screen and shouling, ``SHUT UP YOU WHINY BASTARD!''

Of course there will be a ceremony, and we have advance excerpts from Ravich's speech: ``I consider myself .. the most useless man .. on the face of the earth ... ''

Ravich's necktie will be retired, and his gall gladder will be ripped out and char-broiled over a hibachi in an attempt to appease the gods of baseball, who are plenty pissed off.

***

San Antonio Spurs officials, who until late Friday were hunting for Dennis Rodman, received a tip from a caller who said he spotted Rodman in a laundromat in northern Florida.

Rodman and Elvis, tipster said, arrived at the laundromat separately and at first did not acknowledge one another. They were doing laundry in adjoining machines, when they got into a shouting match after Rodman accidentally dropped a green sock into Elvis's load and the color ran on Elvis' white jump suit, on which the large embroidered ``Elvis'' had been crossed out and the ``Ear Bob'' handwritten over it in Magic Marker.

The dispute quickly escalated, Rodman calling Elvis an ``overrated hick yodler'' and Elvis calling Rodman a ``fuschia- aired ball-plucker.''

The disturbance was quelled by the local sheriff, who stood outside the laundromat cleaning his ears and playing Tony Bennett records over his bullhorn, causing Elvis and Rodman to flee through the back door and escape in a white Bronco driven by Al Cowlings.

***

You just can't stay current in the sports world without your morning Chronicle, which has all the latest up-to-the-minute news. If you missed this morning's Unsporting Green, here's the big news:

The Giants are seriously considering a franchise move. Team owner Horace Stonehan is thinking of moving the club to San Francisco. Bulletins as they break.


This document is maintained by George Shirk (bean@well.com).