Most intimidating fans in the kasaysayan ng pilipinas pagdating ng mga kastila
After he shot up to six-three he preferred basketball to baseball.Bonita High School’s coach, noticing that Ewell threw harder than anyone else on the team, made him a pitcher. And he didn’t mind hitting you; he said, “I was a mean pitcher.”1 Blackwell’s short career foundered on Murphy’s Law: Everything that could go wrong did. Ewell Blackwell was “The Whip,” a long, lanky sidearming right-hander who threw a heavy sinking fastball that just might bore a hole in you if it hit you.While working as a riveter at the Vultee Aircraft plant in 1941, he pitched for the company team. When the scouts came calling, Ewell and his father showed more interest in a quick path to the majors than in a big bonus.
Flugin, a sandlot third baseman, started his son at the same position.
Ewell was a scrawny boy, standing only five-foot-five at age 13.
The sportswriter Red Smith wrote that Blackwell was “built like a slouchy flyrod, being composed largely of arms and neck and ears.” Another writer, Joe Williams, thought his delivery looked like “a Picasso impression of an octopus in labor.”2 Hitters thought he was trouble.
Rarely is a pitcher so fearsome that he can’t be ignored. For a single shining season, 1947, he was the most dominant pitcher on the planet, but he pitched for one losing Cincinnati team after another while fighting poor health and chronic shoulder pain.
Dad built a wooden box the size of the strike zone in the backyard, and the boy threw baseballs and tennis balls at the target to develop control.
He won a scholarship to La Verne Teachers College in Los Angeles County, but stayed only one semester.