“Listen, everyone. I’d like to say a few words.”
“GO AHEAD, SPARKY! . . . DO IT! . . . Yo, man, pass the gravy. . . . “
“Well, we’re all here for our annual Detroit Sports Thanksgiving Dinner, and like I always say, it ain’t no Thanksgiving if there ain’t no thanks, ain’t it?”
“TELL ‘EM, SPARKY!”
“So why don’t we each take a turn and thank the big left- hander upstairs for our blessings.”
“YEAH! . . . Who’s upstairs? . . . DO IT!”
“Chuck, why don’t you and Isiah begin? The Pistons must have a thank-you list.”
“Well, we’d like to thank the Silverdome for being so big that we have to move elsewhere, and Kelly Tripucka for being so gracious in his departure, and Milwaukee for being kind enough to lose a few games while we figure out who we are.”
“And I want to thank my Mom.”
“OHHHH, ISIAH! . . . YUK, YUK.”
“That was very nice. Eric and Joe, you Lions quarterbacks probably have plenty to be thankful for, right?”
“Yeah, I’m thankful I can still walk.”
“And I’m thankful I can still throw.”
“And we’re both thankful Chuck Long is here so he can play against Charles Martin today.”
“SLAM, BAM, THANK YOU, MAN! . . . YUK, YUK . . . GOOD ONE. . . .
“Pipe down, boys. Now then, we have a new guest at our table this year. Jacques Demers, coach of the Red Wings. Jacques, I guess they don’t celebrate this back where you come from, but we ain’t picky. Welcome to our Thanksgiving.”
“Merci beaucoup.”
“HEY, BO! HE CALLED YOU A COO!”
“HE DID NOT. HE ASKED FOR MERCY!”
“Oh, heck, guys, I’m going to the Rose Bowl. I don’t get upset over little things like that anymore. Pass the potatoes, will ya? . . . NO, NO! MOVE BACK IN THE POCKET BEFORE YOU PASS!”
“Bo, calm down! It’s Thanksgiving. Don’t you have anyone to thank?”
“. . . Uh, sure. I’d like to thank the sports writers who were kind enough to tell me when to throw and when to run, and when I should go for it on fourth down, and when I shouldn’t. I don’t know where I’d be without you media guys.”
“THANKS BO!”
“Jerks.”
“OK, how about my Tigers. Hey, Kirk. You want to say thanks for anything?”
“Nah.”
“How about you, Lou?”
“………..
“How about Lance? . . . Lance? How about Jack? Is Jack here? . . . Larry? Larry? Hmm. They must be at their agent’s houses.”
“GO ON TO SOMEONE ELSE!”
“YEAH. THE FOOD’S GETTIN’ COLD.”
“Awright, awright. Let’s hear from someone new. Petr Klima? Your turn.”
“I very happy to be here and to celebrate my freedom in this great country.”
“That’s very nice, Petr.”
“And my Mercedes, and my VCR, and cellular telephone, and, how you say, Gucci? . . . “
“Thank you, Petr. Ernie, how about you?”
“Helloooo, everybody. Welcome to our table, and a special Tigers Thanksgiving greeting goes out to Rose from Livonia, and Thomas and Erma from Wyandotte, and Vivian and her grandchildren from Port Huron, and . . . “
“Uh, we’ll come back to you, Ernie. How about you, Bill Frieder?”
“I’m thankful to have the two most highly recruited algebra students in the country.”
“George Perles?”
“I’m just thankful this season is over. . . . It is over, isn’t it?”
“Tommy Hearns?”
“I’m thankful Sugar Ray Leonard gets to have his head bashed in by Marvin Hagler instead of me. I’m . . . so thankful . . . I . . . could . . . baaaaaaahhhhh!”
“Darryl Rogers?”
“I DON’T KNOW WHEN CHUCK LONG’S GONNA START! LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME–“
“Easy, Darryl. Easy.”
“Sorry. Maybe I better have some turkey.”
“The one shaped like Willie Hernandez?”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Uh, men, maybe that’s enough speeches for now. Let’s just sum up the Detroit sports year with a moment of silence, to say thanks for all the . . . all the . . . well, whatever we brought to Detroit this year — and let’s pray that next year ain’t the same, especially in the bullpen.”
“YEAH! . . . RIGHT! . . . QUIET, YOU DOPE!”
(One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand . . .
“HAPPY THANKSGIVING!”
“LET’S EAT!”
“Urp!”
“Hey. Who invited Ditka?”
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