2005 dodge neon headlights

Jackie Jensen, "The Golden Boy", was a superstar athlete in the 1940s who seemed destined for greatness as the heir to Joe DiMaggio... only to be supplanted by a different golden boy, the great Mickey Mantle.
Jensen would eventually live up to the hype, but with the Red Sox -- but his career prematurely because, as baseball expanded to the west coast, his fear of flying made road games unbearable!
The Yankees between 1947 and 1964 were utterly dominant, winning 15 pennants and 10 World Series. And it wasn't just the major league team that was successful. The Yankees of this era were loaded up and down the system, from Rookie ball to their two Triple-A teams!
With such a loaded major league roster, the Yankees had many talented players stuck either on the end of the bench or in the minors who would eventually find an opportunity with other teams, including Bob Cerv, Vic Power, Gus Triandos, Lew Burdette, Jerry Lumpe, Bob Porterfield, and Bob Keegan, who would all be All-Stars with other teams. Clint Courtney would be the 1952 A.L. Rookie of the Year runner-up after the Yankees traded him to the Browns, and Bill Virdon was the 1955 N.L. Rookie of the Year with the Cardinals (and then Yankee manager from 1974 to 1975!).
But the most talented player who just couldn't find the playing time in New York was Jack Eugene Jensen, born March 9, 1927, in San Francisco. His parents divorced when he was 5, and he grew up poor, his mother working six days a week, 12 hours a day. Jensen said the family moved 16 times between kindergarten and eighth grade -- "every time the rent came due."
After serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II, Jensen went to the University of California in 1946 on the G.I. Bill. There he became one of the most famous college players in the country, leading Cal to the Rose Bowl. In 1947, he was the starting fullback as well as the team's top defensive back, and in 1948, he rushed for 1,000 yards and was an All-American.
He also was a tremendous two-way baseball player, pitching and hitting for the Golden Bears in 1947 as the won the very first College World Series, beating a Yale team that had George H.W. Bush playing first base. In 1949, he was an All-American in baseball, too.
His blond hair, good looks, and athletic accomplishments earned him the nickname "The Golden Boy."
Halfway through his junior year, Jensen left Berkeley to turn pro. Jensen would later say he couldn't risk playing a career-ending injury playing for free while teams -- baseball and football -- were trying to sign him to big-money contracts.

"There was a money tree growing in my backyard. Why shouldn't I pluck off the dollars when I wanted to?"

Jensen considered a number of offers, including from the Yankees, before signing a three-year, $75,000 contract with the Oakland Oaks of the Pacific Coast League. Jensen said he thought he'd face better competition in the Pacific Coast League, the top minor league of the era, than he would at the bottom of the Yankee farm system. He was right about it being more of a challenge -- he hit an unimpressive .261/.317/.394 in 510 plate appearances with the Oaks.
At the end of the year, the Oaks sold his contract (and that of Billy Martin, another Northern California kid) to the Yankees.
That same year, Jensen married his high school sweetheart, Zoe Ann Olsen, an Olympic diver. (By age 18, she had won 14 national diving championships and a silver medal in the 1948 Olympics.) "Together they looked like a Nordic god and goddess," Sports Illustrated reported. Nicknamed "the sweethearts of sports," they were the Dansby Swanson and Mallory Pugh of their era. More than 1,000 people attended their wedding.
Jensen would start the 1950 season not in the minors but in the Bronx. He joined the Yankees in a time of flux. They though they'd won the 1949 World Series, the Yankees knew they had to make some changes, with 35-year-old Joe DiMaggio nearing the end of his career. And their heir apparent was not Mickey Mantle -- at the time an 18-year-old shortstop playing in the Class C league, the equivalent of A-ball today -- but the 23-year-old Jensen.
But Jensen disappointed, hitting just .171/.247/.300 in 70 at-bats, and only starting in 13 games. Watching from the bench most of the season, Jensen would later lament the lost year of development, saying he'd have been better off playing every day in the Pacific Coast League.
The Yankees won the pennant for a second straight year, and in the World Series he once again was left on the bench. His only action was as a pinch runner in Game 3 as the Yankees swept the Phillies. That "Moonlight Graham" appearance would be his only taste of the post-season in an 11-year career.
The following year would be DiMaggio's last, and Mantle's first. Jensen began the year as the Yankees' starting left fielder and proved he belonged, hitting .296/.371/.509 through the end of July... and then, shockingly, was demoted to Triple-A and replaced with previously forgotten Yankee Bob Cerv.
I can see why they called up Cerv -- the University of Nebraska stand-out was tearing up Triple-A, leading the American Association in batting average (.349), home runs (26), triples (21), RBIs (101), and total bases (261) -- but why demote Jensen, who had a 140 OPS+ in the majors? Maybe the Yankees felt the brash 23-year-old needed to be taken down a peg. In any event, Cerv hit just .214/.333/.250 in August and was sent back to Triple-A, but Jensen also was left down there. He hit .263/.344/.469 and was recalled after the Triple-A season ended, only getting into three games (he went 3-for-9).
Mantle, too, had started the season with the Yankees, and after hitting .260/.341/.423 through the middle of July, was sent down to Triple-A. But he hit .361/.445/.651 in 166 at-bats, and unlike Jensen was back in the bigs by August 24. He would play pretty much every game the rest of the season, hitting .284/.370/.495 in 95 at-bats.
The torch had clearly been passed -- Jensen was no longer the heir apparent to DiMaggio. In the World Series that year, Mantle was the starting right fielder, and Jensen wasn't even on the post-season roster.
Jensen was so disappointed with how the Yankees had treated him in 1951 that he talked to the San Francisco 49ers about switching to pro football, but ultimately decided to stick with baseball.
Never shy about what he said to reporters, Jensen told The Sporting News on October 24, 1951:

"I felt so badly about the treatment that I received from the Yankees that, although I was in New York at the end of the season, I didn't feel like sticking around to even watch the club play in any of the World's Series games."
"I do not feel the Yankees were justified in sending me to the minor leagues. When I was shipped to Kansas City, I was doing as good a job as any Yankee outfielder and better than some of them. I was hitting .296, which was ten points better than Hank Bauer and 30 points better than Joe DiMaggio, Gene Woodling and Mickey Mantle. Yet Casey Stengel didn't give me the chance I felt I deserved."

Despite blasting his manager in the press, Jensen was still the property of the Yankees. That off-season, teams were circling, hoping to pry away the talented but disgruntled outfielder. There were newspaper reports of offers from the St. Louis Browns, the Detroit Tigers, the Philadelphia Athletics, the Washington Senators, the Cleveland Indians, and the Boston Red Sox -- with one rumor being Ted Williams to the Bronx in exchange for Jensen and several other players. (A Red Sox scout called the rumored deal "a lot of hogwash.")
Sportswriters spent the off-season speculating whether DiMaggio would retire, and if he did, whether Jensen or Mantle would take over as the center fielder, as there were still concerns that Mantle, who had hurt his knee in the 1951 World Series, wouldn't be fully recovered by the start of the season.
On Opening Day, April 16, 1952, it was Jackie Jensen in center and Mickey Mantle in right. Jensen went 0-for-5 with a GIDP; Mantle, 3-for-4 with a double, a walk, and a stolen base! Seven games into the season, Jensen was 2-for-17 (.118) and found himself on the bench. He'd never play for the Yankees again. On May 3, the Golden Boy was traded to the Washington Senators along with Spec Shea, Jerry Snyder, and Archie Wilson in exchange for Irv Noren and Tom Upton.
In two years with the Senators, Jensen hit an impressive .276/.359/.407 (112 OPS+), but the team was terrible, and Jensen wasn't happy. Still just 26 years old, he later said he had almost quit after the 1953 season... particularly after a harrowing flight to Japan for a series of exhibition games with a squad of All-Stars that included Yankees Yogi Berra, Eddie Lopat, and Billy Martin. That experience gave Jensen a lifelong fear of flying, a phobia that became so intense eventually he could only fly with the help of sleeping pills... and a hypnotist!
He might have quit if not for the trade on December 9, 1953, that sent him to the Boston Red Sox for pitcher Mickey McDermott and outfielder Tom Umphlett. He was homesick, he hated flying, and he now had two little kids at home. Red Sox general manager Joe Cronin convinced Jensen to come to the Red Sox, telling him that Fenway Park was tailor made for his swing. Cronin was right: Jensen was a career .279/.369/.460 hitter, but .298/.400/.514 at Fenway.
It was in Boston that Jensen finally lived up to the hype, becoming a two-time All-Star and winning the A.L. MVP Award in 1958 and a Gold Glove in 1959. During his seven seasons in Boston, he hit .282/.374/.478 in 4,519 plate appearances. In his MVP season, Jensen hit .286/.396/.535 (148 OPS+) with 31 doubles, 35 home runs, and a league-leading 122 RBIs. During his peak with the Red Sox, 1954 to 1959, Jensen's average season was .285/.378/.490 (127 OPS+) with 28 doubles, 26 home runs, 111 RBIs, 14 stolen bases, and 3.6 bWAR. During those six seasons, no one in the American League -- not Mickey Mantle, not Ted Williams, not Al Kaline -- had more runs batted in than Jackie Jensen.
Of course, Mantle was the far better player -- even in Jensen's MVP season, Mantle had more runs, hits, home runs, walks, and a 188 OPS+ -- but Jensen's 127 OPS+ between 1954 and 1959 would have been an upgrade over the aging Hank Bauer's 110 OPS+ in right or the left field merry-go-round of Norm Siebern (113 OPS+), Irv Noren (107 OPS+), Enos Slaughter (103 OPS+), and previously forgotten Yankee Hector Lopez (101 OPS+). Casey Stengel would later say the Jensen trade was the worst one the Yankees had made while he was manager.
Despite his success, Jensen was sometimes booed by the Boston fans, just as they sometimes booed Ted Williams. There even was an article in Sport magazine, "What Do They Want From Jackie Jensen?", taking Red Sox fans to task for their unreasonably high demands from the Golden Boy. In 1956, in a game at Fenway Park against the Yankees, the hometown fans were razzing Jensen so much that teammates had to restrain him from going into the stands after a fan. Later that same game, Williams misplayed a wind-blown fly ball from Mantle, and the fans booed lustily. The very next play, Williams made a leaping catch at the scoreboard to rob Yogi Berra of a double. But Williams, still furious, spit into the crowd. He was later fined $5,000.
And Jackie was unhappy to be away from home. He and Zoe Ann had bought a house near Lake Tahoe, where they could both ski and golf year-round, as well as hit the casinos. They also had a home in Oakland, and a restaurant there, and each year Jensen hosted a pro-am golf tournament. But the marriage was struggling. Zoe Ann, once nationally known for her Olympic exploits, was frustrated to be a stay-at-home mom in the shadow of her famous husband, and Jackie became angry if she engaged in her favorite outdoor hobbies, suspecting there were men around.
Jensen's fear of flying also had become even more intense. Sometimes he was so drugged up that he had to be carried on and off the plane, fueling rumors that he was a drunk. Other times he took trains or even drove while his teammates flew.
Once again Jensen was talking about retirement, and in Spring Training 1957, the Red Sox allowed him to train with the San Francisco Seals, Boston's Triple-A team, rather than having to go to Florida. But he was still miserable. That year, he told Sports Illustrated:

“In baseball you get to the point where you don’t think you have a family. It just looks like I’m not built for this life like some ballplayers. You are always away from home and you’re lonesome, and as soon as I can, I intend to get out.”

The 32-year-old Jensen announced his retirement after the 1959 season, and he spent 1960 home with Zoe Ann and their children and running his restaurant. But he returned in 1961. After hitting just .130 in April, Jensen took a train from Detroit home to Reno, determined to quit once again. After a week away, he rejoined the team and had six hits in his next 10 at-bats. By the end of the season he was at .263/.350/.392, and this time he quit for good.
After leaving baseball, Jensen invested in real estate and a golf course, but lost most of his money. He then got a job working for a Lake Tahoe casino, was a national spokesman for Camel cigarettes, Wonder Bread, and Gillette, and even tried selling cars. Ironically, Jackie found himself on the road almost as much as he had been as a ballplayer. In 1963, he and Zoe Ann divorced, remarried, and then divorced again.
In 1967, Jensen became a TV sportscaster, married his producer Katharine Cortesi, and eventually teamed up with Keith Jackson calling college football games for ABC and a college baseball coach, first at the University of Nevada-Reno and then at the University of California, and he managed the Red Sox team in the New York Penn League in 1970. In 1977, Jackie and Katharine moved to Virginia and started a Christmas tree farm while he coached baseball at a military academy. About five years later, on July 14, 1982, he died of a heart attack at age 55.
You Don't Know Jack(ie):

• How good would Jackie Jensen have been as a Yankee? Maybe not great. He was a career .279/.369/.460 hitter, but just .238/.326/.398 at Yankee Stadium, which -- especially in that era -- was famously death on right-handed batters. Fenway Park was much more to his liking!
  
• Born in San Francisco in 1927, it's no surprise Jensen's favorite player as a kid was Joe DiMaggio, who made his debut with the San Francisco Seals when Jensen was a 5 years old. When Jensen made his major league debut, on April 18, 1950, DiMaggio went 3-for-6 with a triple in a 15-10 win over the Red Sox. Two weeks later, on May 3, Jensen made his first start, playing left field and batting second, and DiMaggio was in center and batting fourth.
  
• Jensen wore #36 at Cal. When he came up with the Yankees, he was first issued #40, then switched to #27, and finally to #25. (With the Senators, he wore #8, then #4; in Boston, he first wore #30 but primarily wore #4.) Currently, #40 is worn by Luis Severino. Other famous 40's include Chien-Ming Wang (2005-2009), Andy Hawkins (1989-1991), and Lindy McDaniel (1968-1973). #27 has been worn by Giancarlo Stanton since 2018; prior to him, it was worn by Austin Romine (2016-2017). It also was the number worn by Bob Wickman (1993-1996), Butch Wynegar (1982-1986), and Woodie Held (1954-1957). Gleyber Torres has worn #25 since 2018; it also was worn by Mark Teixeira (2009-2016), Jason Giambi (2002-2008), Joe Girardi (1996-1999), Jim Abbott (1993-1994), Tommy John (1979-1989), and Joe Pepitone (1962-1969).
  
• Jensen is one of six major leaguers to graduate from Oakland High School, but the only Yankee. Cal has sent 83 players to the majors, including twenty Yankees -- most notably, early 1990s pitcher Chuck Cary, 1930s infielder Lyn Lary, and 1990 A.L. ROY runner-up Kevin Maas.
  
• The Yankees during spring training in 1951 tinkered with the idea of using Jensen into a pitcher. Jensen had been a star pitcher at Cal, including pitching in the 1947 College World Series, and had pitched in a winter league that off-season. But he was bombed in a handful of spring training innings -- while crushing as a hitter -- and the Yankees decided to leave him in the outfield.
  
• College teammates said Jensen wasn't afraid of flying at Cal. His second wife Katharine said the phobia came from a near-miss experience on a flight early in his baseball career -- he looked out the window and saw another plane coming straight at him! The two planes managed to avoid each other, but he was never comfortable on a plane again.
  
• Billy Martin, who also had grown up in Northern California and was Jensen's teammate on both the Oakland Oaks and the Yankees, was merciless when it came to teasing Jensen about his fear of flying. In 1953, on a flight from Okinawa to Honshu to play a series of exhibition games in Japan, the plane ran into a bad storm and was bouncing pretty hard. Jensen, who wouldn't get on a plane without the help of tranquilizers, was blissfully sleeping through the turbulence. Martin found a lifejacket and put it on, then stood over Jensen and shouted "We're going down!"
  
• Arthur Ellen, a hypnotist that Jensen had used to try to cure his fear of flying, believed Jackie wasn't aerophobic at all. It was really a fear of losing his family. "Subconsciously, it developed as a good reason to leave the Red Sox and go home," the hypnotist said.
  
• Jensen is featured prominently in Norman Rockwell's famous 1957 painting, The Rookie. Jensen is the one seated on the bench tying his shoe in the middle of the painting. Standing behind him is Ted Williams, and sitting on the bench next to him is pitcher Frank Sullivan (#18). Wearing the catcher's mitt in the foreground is Sammy White, and the player with his hand over his mouth to the far right is Billy Goodman. Jensen, Sullivan, and White had gone to Rockwell's studio in Massachusetts to pose for the painting; the images of Williams and Goodman were based on photos. The shirtless player was one of Rockwell's assistants, and "the rookie" holding the suitcase was a local high school student!
  
• Boston sportswriters named Jensen the team's MVP in 1954, when he hit .276/.359/.472 with 25 home runs and 117 RBIs. I guess they were tired of giving the award to Ted Williams, who hit .345/.513/.635 that year, albeit in just 117 games as he had broken his collarbone in spring training. Williams didn't qualify for the batting title that year because he had only 386 at-bats... mostly due to his league-leading 136 walks. The rule was subsequently changed from at-bats to plate appearances.
  
• After Jensen was acquired by the Washington Senators, manager Bucky Harris -- who managed the Yankees when they won the 1947 World Series -- pulled him aside and told him he was the right fielder and he'd hit third. "No pep talk, no nothing, but he made it sound like I was the right fielder and third place hitter for a long time to come," Jensen later recalled. "It made me feel good." The 1950s Senators had a number of ex-Yankees and several of them told reporters that Harris was a much more low-key, hands-off manager than Casey Stengel, and Jensen agreed. "With Stengel it was always 'watch for that curve ball' or 'watch for that change up'," Jensen said. "Bucky leaves you on your own up there." But Jensen would later say Stengel was the smartest manager he'd ever had.
  
• Stengel obliquely mentioned Jensen in his famously long, rambling testimony before the Senate Anti-Trust and Monopoly Subcommittee on July 8, 1958. Asked about legislation that would exempt baseball from federal anti-trust laws, Stengel said about 7,000 words without really saying anything. The hearing was held the day after the All-Star Game -- the Stengel-managed A.L. All-Stars won, 4-3 -- and in the American League starting lineup were Jensen and two other ex-Yankees, Bob Cerv and Gus Triandos. Stengel was asked if the Yankees were going to continue to "monopolize" the World Series, and his confusing answer: "Well, I will tell you. I got a little concerned yesterday in the first three innings when I saw the three players I had gotten rid of [Jensen, Cerv, and Triandos] and I said when I lost nine what am I going to do? And when I had a couple of my players I thought so great of that did not do so good up to the sixth inning I was more confused but I finally had to go and call on a young man in Baltimore that we don't own and the Yankees don't own him and he is doing pretty well and I would actually have to to tell you that we are more the Greta Garbo-type now from success. We are being hated. I mean from the ownership and all we are being hated. Every sport that gets too great or one individual -- but if we made twenty-seven cents and it pays to have a winner at home why would you have a good winner in your park if you were an owner? That is the result of baseball. An owner gets most of the money at home, and it is up to him and his staff to do better or they ought to be discharged." After befuddling the committee with answers like that for 45 minutes, Stengel was excused and Mickey Mantle called upon. His opening statement: "My views are just about the same as Casey's."
  
• Casey Stengel later said Jensen plus Spec Shea, Jerry Snyder, and Archie Wilson to the Senators for Irv Noren and Tom Upton was the worst trade the Yankees made during his tenure. But in reality it was pretty much a wash for the Yankees. Jensen, in two seasons, would be worth 4.9 bWAR for the Senators before being traded. Shea, a right-handed pitcher who had been an All-Star with the Yankees as a rookie, pitched four years in Washington and was worth 2.9 bWAR. Snyder was a good-glove, no-hit infielder worth -0.1 bWAR in seven seasons with the Senators. (You must have a really good glove to last seven seasons with a 55 OPS+!) Wilson, at one point seen as a good prospect but now a 28-year-old minor league journeyman, only played 26 games in Washington before being traded. In exchange, the Yankees received the 27-year-old Irv Noren, an outfieldefirst baseman who played five years in New York and was an All-Star in 1954; he was worth 7.9 bWAR, making the trade essentially even by bWAR. (The other player the Yankees received, minor league infielder Tom Upton, never made it back to the bigs.) Prior to the 1957 season, Noren was traded to the Kansas City Athletics as part of a monster 13-player trade that included Clete Boyer, third baseman of the early 1960s dynasty!
  
• The two players Washington got from Boston for Jensen, Mickey McDermott and Tom Upton, were both future Yankees. McDermott was a left-handed pitcher whose father, Maurice McDermott, had played in the minors with Lou Gehrig. Mickey was just 25 years old at the time of the trade but had been in the majors for six seasons, going 48-34 with a 3.80 ERA (114 ERA+). In two years with the Senators, McDermott went 17-25 (but with a 3.58 ERA), then prior to the 1957 season was traded to the Yankees as part of a seven-player deal; he went 2-6 with a 4.24 ERA as a swingman, and closed out the Game 2 win in the 1956 World Series. After that one season in New York, he was part of the trade with the A's that brought back Clete Boyer.
  
• Umphlett, a 22-year-old infielder, was traded back to the Red Sox in 1955, and then the Red Sox traded him to the Yankees in 1962 for infielder Billy Gardner. He would spend 1962 and 1963 in Triple-A for the Yankees, then ended his career in the minors with the Minnesota Twins -- the team that had been the Senators until 1961.
  
• In 1956, the anthology television show Cavalcade of America had an episode called The Jackie Jensen Story. Jackie had a cameo as the adult version of himself, but the 30-minute episode was focused on Jackie's teenage years and the influence of his middle high school coach, a man named Ralph Kerchum who became a father figure. The coach was played by Ross Elliott, a Bronx native whose most memorable role might have been as the director in the Vitameatavegamin episode of I Love Lucy.
  
• Jensen's MVP in 1958 broke a string of four straight MVP awards for Yankees -- Yogi Berra in 1954 and 1955 followed by Mickey Mantle in 1956 and 1957. Nellie Fox of the White Sox won it in 1959, and then the Yankees won it four years in a row again -- Roger Maris in 1960 and 1961, Mantle in 1962, and Elston Howard in 1963. Then a long drought -- the next Yankee to win it would be Thurman Munson in 1976.
  
• Going by bWAR, Mantle should have won it a third straight year in 1958 -- his 8.7 bWAR led the league, followed by Frank Lary at 6.7 and Al Kaline at 6.5. Jensen's 4.9 was 10th that year. Of course, they didn't have bWAR back then!
  
• Jackie won a Gold Glove in 1959; it was just the third year of the award's existence, or he might have won more. "Right field in Boston is a bitch, the sun field, and few play it well," Ted Williams said. "Jackie Jensen was the best I saw at it." Jensen was renowned for his throwing arm -- he twice led the league in assists, and twice led the league in double plays as an outfielder. One Yankee scout said he had the best arm he'd seen since previously forgotten Yankee Bob Meusel, usually said to have the best cannon in baseball history until Roberto Clemente came along.
  
• Jensen was well known for his brashness, especially compared to Mantle's aw shucks attitude. Mantle, asked if he thought he could beat out Jensen to replace DiMaggio in center field, humbly replied that there were three positions in the outfield and he hoped to win any one of them. Jensen, on the other hand, vowed he'd "out-run, out-hit, and out-throw" Mantle, an arrogant answer that didn't go over well with teammates. Joe DiMaggio, asked what he thought of the duel for his old job, quipped that Mantle was "out-quoting" Jensen.
  
• When Mantle was asked what he thought about Jensen's quote, he replied: "I don't know what to make of that guy." Jensen would later say he was misquoted, but reports of his cockiness would follow him throughout his Yankee years. Later in life, Jensen said people mistook his shyness and anxiety for arrogance and rudeness.
  
• According to Sports Illustrated, Jensen is the only player to have played in the East-West football game, the Rose Bowl, the World Series, and the Major League All-Star Game. I'll take their word for it!
  
• As a freshman at Cal, the first time Jensen touched the ball -- on a punt return -- he ran it back for a 56-yard touchdown. Cal quarterback Charles Erb said they'd never seen anything like it. "He was all over the field, dodging and leaping over guys. The rest of us just stood there on the sidelines with our mouths open. Finally somebody said, 'Who in the hell is that guy?' "
  
• Jensen is one of two "forgotten" Yankees in the College Football Hall of Fame -- the other is 1960s catcher Jake Gibbs. (Other Yankees in the College Football Hall of Fame include John Elway, who was in the Yankee minor league system before joining the Denver Broncos, and Deion Sanders, who was on the Yankees in 1989 and 1990.) Jensen also is a member of the Cal Hall of Fame, the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame, and... ugh... the Boston Red Sox Hall of Fame.
  
• Despite his speed -- Jensen led the league in triples in 1956 and in stolen bases in 1954, and was in the top five in stolen bases in six seasons -- Jackie also was prone to grounding into double plays, leading the league in 1954, 1956, and 1957. His 32 GIDPs in 1954 was the major league record until Boston's Jim Rice hit into 36 in 1984, which is still the single-season record. Rice also had 35 in 1985. Jensen's 32 is tied for third with four others. The most by a Yankee? Dave Winfield with 30 in 1983, which is tied for 14th.
  
• Jensen lost most of his baseball earnings through a series of bad investments. His ex-wife, former Olympian Zoe Ann, later became a blackjack dealer in Reno to pay the bills.
  
• Jensen had four appearances on the popular show Home Run Derby, and set a record for most home runs in one match when he defeated Ernie Banks, 14-11, in Episode 24. The 25 combined home runs also was a record. He took on Mickey Mantle in Episode 3, with Mantle winning, 9-2, then defeated Rocky Colavito, 3-2, in Episode 25. He rematched against Mantle in Episode 26, with Mantle winning again, 13-10. Jensen set another record in that contest when he became the only player to hit four home runs in a row, and then a fifth home run in a row. That episode was supposed to be the season one finale, but it turned out to be the last episode of the series: The show's host and producer, Mark Scott, died of a heart attack at age 45, shortly after the last episode aired, and two months later the show's 64-year-old director Benjamin Stoloff also died. Rather than replacing them, the show was cancelled.
  
• Jensen's last game came against the Yankees, on October 1st, 1961, at Yankee Stadium. He appeared as a pinch hitter and popped out to shortstop Tony Kubek. In the 4th inning of that game, Roger Maris hit his 61st home run, breaking Babe Ruth's single-season record!
  
• Jackie and Zoe Ann had two sons, Jon and Jay, and a daughter, Jan. Jay's son, Tucker Jensen, was a pitcher in the Blue Jays farm system in 2011 and 2012.
  

In 1958, Jensen told Sports Illustrated that the biggest thrill of his career wasn't being an All-American or an All-Star, it wasn't winning an MVP or a World Series. "The biggest is having played in the same outfield with both DiMaggio and Williams."

my car, my ladybird, my 95 dodge neon, my first car. she was much more than a car to me and i had her all decorated with so many bumper stickers and trinkets from places i travelled and things i liked. i had been decorating her since august. i have taken perfect care of her.
then this friday, i was t boned by a guy going at least 30 over the speed limit down a massive hill as i was making a left turn to go home, 5 minutes from my house.
thankfully, my uncle who’s a mechanic and my great uncle who loves dodge neons said that the parts were cheap and it was fixable, just a control arm issue and a bit of reshaping the metal. it would cost me a lot, but significantly less than a new car or going elsewhere. however because that friday was the start of memorial day weekend, we weren’t able to get a tow truck to tow her to our house till today.
she arrived and was parked in front of my house today at 3:00. then at 4:30, my severely mentally ill and probably demented neighbour who should have had her drivers license taken years ago, backs out of her driveway and crushes my car. in the initial crash she was hit on the side, so only the side was damaged. when she backed into me she crumpled my hood, knocked off my entire front bumper, shattered my radiator, and bent the frame. she’s basically unfixable now.
and my dad is mad at me for “acting like a victim” and having a “shitty attitude” like how else should i react to this? i don’t have the money to fix this? i don’t have money for a new car? and i have a job i need to drive to? he somehow is acting like i wanted to get into a car crash and then have my batshit neighbour total it. yeah. sure.
also polite advice/input are welcome and if you have any recommendations for cheap but good cars in the southeast missouri area/adjacent i’m all ears. ladybird was a great find, 4,000 entirely rebuilt even a brand new coat of paint and only 129 thousand miles on her which for a 28 year old car is incredible.

my car, my ladybird, my 95 dodge neon, my first car. she was much more than a car to me and i had her all decorated with so many bumper stickers and trinkets from places i travelled and things i liked. i had been decorating her since august. i have taken perfect care of her.
then this friday, i was t boned by a guy going at least 30 over the speed limit down a massive hill as i was making a left turn to go home, 5 minutes from my house.
thankfully, my uncle who’s a mechanic and my great uncle who loves dodge neons said that the parts were cheap and it was fixable, just a control arm issue and a bit of reshaping the metal. it would cost me a lot, but significantly less than a new car or going elsewhere. however because that friday was the start of memorial day weekend, we weren’t able to get a tow truck to tow her to our house till today.
she arrived and was parked in front of my house today at 3:00. then at 4:30, my severely mentally ill and probably demented neighbour who should have had her drivers license taken years ago, backs out of her driveway and crushes my car. in the initial crash she was hit on the side, so only the side was damaged. when she backed into me she crumpled my hood, knocked off my entire front bumper, shattered my radiator, and bent the frame. she’s basically unfixable now.
and my dad is mad at me for “acting like a victim” and having a “shitty attitude” like how else should i react to this? i don’t have the money to fix this? i don’t have money for a new car? and i have a job i need to drive to? he somehow is acting like i wanted to get into a car crash and then have my batshit neighbour total it. yeah. sure.
also polite advice/input are welcome and if you have any recommendations for cheap but good cars in the southeast missouri area/adjacent i’m all ears. ladybird was a great find, 4,000 entirely rebuilt even a brand new coat of paint and only 129 thousand miles on her which for a 28 year old car is incredible.

Can't figure out what the problem is

Before I start, I’d like to point out that I’ve met adolescents with more knowledge about cars than myself. I’m about as dumb as they get at my age.
Anyways, I have a 2005 Dodge Caravan. It’s something of a beater, but most of the problems are aesthetic despite the fact it rarely gets tune-ups (seems like a quality vehicle, but maybe I’m just lucky). The seam along my catalytic converter rusted open (the seam along the chassis, not the seams around the caps on either end), so I applied rust dissolver around ten times before I started seeing bare metal (though I’m sure a little remained undein between the seam). After cleaning it off & letting it dry, I applied some QuikSteel Xtreme Heat epoxy putty & it’s worked like a charm.
My problem arises whenever I hop on the highway & get up over 50-60mph , I can smell something… burning, I think. It doesn’t smell like oil, though. This may sound weird, but it smells kind of like exhaust that almost smells good (dunno if anyone ever had that thought, but sometimes is smells good to me lol). I’m going to sound really dumb here, but it’s almost like the catalytic converter has a blockage & the excess exhaust in finding it’s way inside my car. I HAVE to roll the windows down on the highway. My car does leak oil, but I’ve never smelled it inside the car prior to patching, only sometimes after I park it in the garage after a long-ish drive (30+ mins) or driving on the highway. It’s also worth noting that I rarely drive on the highway & when I do, it’s for 5-10 mins, so it’s tolerable, but I got a 2-hour drive coming up & I’m a bit worried about what it is & if it could worsen during such a long drive.
Anyone have any idea what the smell might be? Like I said, it doesn’t smell like burning oil, but more like less offensive exhaust fumes.

Before I start, I’d like to point out that I’ve met adolescents with more knowledge about cars than myself. I’m about as dumb as they get at my age.
Anyways, I have a 2005 Dodge Caravan. It’s something of a beater, but most of the problems are aesthetic despite the fact it rarely gets tune-ups (seems like a quality vehicle, but maybe I’m just lucky). The seam along my catalytic converter rusted open (the seam along the chassis, not the seams around the caps on either end), so I applied rust dissolver around ten times before I started seeing bare metal (though I’m sure a little remained undein between the seam). After cleaning it off & letting it dry, I applied some QuikSteel Xtreme Heat epoxy putty & it’s worked like a charm.
My problem arises whenever I hop on the highway & get up over 50-60mph , I can smell something… burning, I think. It doesn’t smell like oil, though. This may sound weird, but it smells kind of like exhaust that almost smells good (dunno if anyone ever had that thought, but sometimes is smells good to me lol). I’m going to sound really dumb here, but it’s almost like the catalytic converter has a blockage & the excess exhaust in finding it’s way inside my car. I HAVE to roll the windows down on the highway. My car does leak oil, but I’ve never smelled it inside the car prior to patching, only sometimes after I park it in the garage after a long-ish drive (30+ mins) or driving on the highway. It’s also worth noting that I rarely drive on the highway & when I do, it’s for 5-10 mins, so it’s tolerable, but I got a 2-hour drive coming up & I’m a bit worried about what it is & if it could worsen during such a long drive.
Anyone have any idea what the smell might be? Like I said, it doesn’t smell like burning oil, but more like less offensive exhaust fumes.
Edit: grammar

I fly out in the 2nd of August ‘23 and I thought I’d share my experience about landing my first international teaching job through a timeline.
2020 - COVID hit, lost job, got fat. Applied for a scholarship to teach Computer Science from the British Computer Society (BCS). Bursary of £2000 less if not awarded. UK teaching industry desperate for Computer Science teachers since Michael Gove made the subject compulsory in 2014. Other subjects also have Bursary/Scholarships available. (Please don’t use Teach First, comment below and I’ll give you my rant.)
2020/21 - Awarded scholarship of £28,000 tax free, maintenance loan and student loan granted. PGCE started. Lived on a shoestring, drove a reliable 2005 German made banger. Enjoyed my first placement.
2021 - 8 job applications to UK schools, 4 interviews offered. Didn’t fit for school no1. Intimidated by the ECT mentor for job no2. Lost to a fellow PGCE student for job no3. 2nd placement started. Interviewed for job no4 at my 2nd placement on the 2nd day of placement. Job offered, job taken. Informed that NQT & RQT will be replaced with a 2 year ECT. ECT year 1 started. Survived the COVID pandemic.
2022 - Purchased a flat with scholarship money. Average savings of £2000 a month from living frugally and depositing money into a lifetime ISA. Year 1 of ECT completed. ECT subject mentor that was also head of department decided to move schools. I moved with him. Successfully negotiated a TLR2a for my troubles and government pay rise implemented.
2022/2023 - ECT year 2 started (UK). Dodged a bullet after learning that my old department fell like a house of cards with the new Head of Computing constantly calling in sick. My favourite photocopier lady had informed me that she could hear lots of toxic arguments on a daily basis. 8 International school applications sent, 3 interviews offered. 1 interview was in London (expenses paid), 1 one-way video interview and the third rejected.
2022 October - Applied on TES, Search Associates, Schrole, Teacher Horizon.
December 2022 - I had a surprising email from the school that once rejected me. It read “We were impressed with your CV and cover letter and would like to invite you in for an interview”. The head of schools would fly into London and pay for your expenses just to interview you. Either somebody was trigger happy and accidentally rejected my online application or someone had changed their mind about me. So I was super excited and prepared myself mentally. Listening to podcasts about international school interviews and watching promotional videos about that international school on youtube to get a feel for the personalities of the head of schools.
2023 January - Attended interview in London. The interview came around very quick. Dusting of my suit that I once purchased for a wedding, I was suited and booted for the interview. The nerves kicked in, but the interview panel was so supportive and did everything they could to put me at ease. The irony behind the interview was that they was trying to sell Thailand to me. On further research, this school would pay me an extra 50% more than what I would earn in the UK (even after a national pay rise of 9% ). They would give me an accommodation allowance of 36,000 bahts as they often assume you’re bringing a wife and two kids across. The accomodation allowance is enough to live on by itself.
2023, 4 days later - Accepted 1st job offer at an International School in Thailand with a salary of £3389,90 (approx £2883 after tax). Flights included. Sacrificed my relocation allowance to fly Business Class. Planning to sell my possessions, rent out my flat.
Current NEU teachers strike over pay and working conditions.
A great time to opt out of my pension and leave.
Currently researching pension alternatives from the Millionaire Expat. Looking to live the remainder of my life teaching a subject I love in a country that never stops making me smile.
2023 April, flights booked.
2023 May, given a school email and access to materials. Zoom call with my new department. Timetable allocation agreed.
2023 Today, DBS applied for. Visa Application applied. Added to a new starter WhatsApp group.
I hope this is helpful to someone. Ask me anything.

A lot of things have happened since 2005, a lot of information has come out about this case but I've not seen anyone close to Teresa say exactly what here plans were for the evening she went missing? Blaa, blaa see grandad on Sunday, Ryan was round, she had a cowboy dress?.......etc, etc.
Here's the thing; either her family and friends didn't love her or they are, VERY MUCH, helping with this cover up. We know Scott B, was a pig? And Dodge Ryan H, an ex but the girl who never stays out for a nigh, would for sure have told her sisters the options she had to go to a party? Go out to have a drink or even if she was going to stay in on her own or have someone round?
The point of this post is; I don't for one minute think that the cops and prosecutors are very smart and that their little brains could get it together very quickly to kick off the frame up, they made so many mistakes! And I'm 100% sure Weedick couldn't have got into the perverts office on afternoon 1 with a story ken himself has lied about in writing! So, for me, she was missed and reported missing on most probably, the 1st to some cop station, somewhere, then the family was convinced to call in again on the 3rd. It may have been the second that she was reported missing but I doubt this.
I think that SA's whole conviction could be overturned with one honest family member or cop admitting that this missing persons case was opened earlier. And I think the key to this is to know Teresa's planned movements after her phone went off? She could of made it home and all those lines of enquiry are possible and right to follow but I just want to know what her plans were and why she was not missed because of these movements? And why after all that has come out that there are very few honest people living around Teresa?

Got a 2019 Dodge Charger SXT , need to replace a headlight but can’t get a straight answer about which one I need. I know very little about cars and headlights in general so forgive the lack of detail.
The car came with Halogen headlights , but I’m looking to put in LED or HID. Would this require any extra work beyond simply just swapping the bulbs? If not , I’d like some suggestions on which HID/LED’s , but if so I’ll save that for a later date and just replace with another halogen. Just need to get it replaced asap so I stop getting pulled over
Also need to know exactly what type of halogen is compatible. Thank y’all in advance 🙏🏽

I have a 2000 Dodge neon Es I’m using as a little beater car, I have come to switch out the front speakers as well as the radio, the front speakers work great with no issues and hit amazing, however I have absolutely no power to the rear speakers, I know this because I’ve positioned the radio all the way to the rear, heard nothing, and then cut the wire to test it, upon testing the wire, theres no power, what do I do????

Found the origin of the power steering leak on my 2009 dodge caliber. (Yes I’m aware I shouldn’t be putting anything into this car but I’m riding off my stupidity on this one.) the picture below was taken under the right headlight and right beside the right tire (had to take off the splash guard to see it. Question is what sort of replacement is this going to entail? I know there are patches available and I could just use a hose and clamps around it but is that even worth it? I couldn’t find these lines on all of the diagrams I looked up for the power steering so I could also be wrong about thinking this is a low pressure / return line. Thoughts on repair?

Just had one of my low beams go out, and my turn signal has been out for awhile. Do I need to get new assemblies for both headlights or can I just replace the bulbs? New assembly is about 350 for one, so about 700 for 2. Any help is appreciated. Thanks!

"You did WHAT?!" The half-completed apartment building was a dangerous ribcage affair of a building, wind easily guiding itself thru it at higher floors, of which there were four total. The entrance office was enclosed and hard to notice, so they'd parked in the nearby crew lot and walked before talking business, which Fennel was already regretting. "Hey, it's a fullproof way to do this stuff without attracting attention, like you said." Her contact with the Syracuse Runners was this wiry albino fox, red eyes and piercings adding to the shock of his white pelt and various tattoos, like the tiger stripes on his burly arms. Fennel thought an 80s action movie was missing an antagonist somewhere, but that was the point of this whole venture; to maintain attention. "She'll come here, we beat her near to death in the ensuing ambush, then we split that reward money fifty-fifty, it's easy as that." "Yeah? Well, genius, what if she decides to just show up now?" He held up a finger as his phone suddenly beeped a phone call, which he answered with a hands-free. "Talk to me... uh huh, did you pay him? Alright cool, once you get the go-ahead from D&D, tell 'em to sit tight at their hotel room until I call 'em, then we can get everyone paid and leave town, alright? Okay, good, set up at the look-out spot once you're here, we'll be waiting. Right, see ya." He hung up the phone and gestured purposefully with both arms. "You see? Everything's coming up roses, all we gotta do now is take her down." "WITHOUT killing her." Fennel said firmly, crossing her arms. "Without killing her, yeah sure." and the gang leader turned to meet his men outside. Fennel's bodyguards came down from upstairs, putting their suit jackets back on. "We checked it out, the real party's ready to go and the last of the extra team is about 10 minutes from here." "Alright, good, some news I can count on. Has Fez sent any further information?" One of them nodded. "Yeah, apparently this red-haired cat was talking with some striper earlier, our guy on the streets saw them and figured to call it in, he said they seemed on complete speaking terms." Fennel's eyes narrowed. "Could be a possible proxy or old partner, do we got any further leads on this guy?" "Only that he's the only northern raccoon the guy's seen in town recently, should make finding him a cinch." The wolf nodded, heading onwards with her entourage in tow. "Alright, that simplifies things; you guys see him at any time before we head home, you pull him off the streets, take him into the woods and slice him, and not a trace left behind, capisce?" "You got it boss, this chick's gonna be our main concern until we break her down, then we just find this dude and ice him." "Right, Moe? Starting to like working out here after all, how 'bout that?" They chuckled maliciously and left the skeletal building, but from up on a pile of particle-board slabs, Tom's head poked out a little and he let out a huge breath, his eyes darting wildly all over the place in mind-crushing trepidation. A step went awry and he fell to land on two feet, skidding backwards a bit to crash into a stack of pallets. Fear stung his mind again as he got up quickly and headed up his escape path, making it to the trees and falling breathless behind a wide-trunked spruce, trying to calm his mind. He'd taken a detour through the woods, but there was still a good 300 paces between the route and the gas station next to the Door. "Fuck... holy fuck, they're gonna kill me... shit, this--" He sat in that one spot for a long time, feeling a terror in his chest even as he somehow fell asleep with thoughts of losing it all ringing in his mind.
Shank of night was approaching, and Karilara Sunkiller was readying herself for a real fight, one that she intended to survive. The point she'd been trained for, and trained in her own time for, was maximum movement, keep the vitals out of the fight, and shoot first. She'd gotten into her old worn-in black jeans and tank top, which she further covered with custom combat armor, meant to maintain ease of movement while covering a few more than the standard weak spots. She frowned a bit while inspecting the plates and weave, wishing she had a better alternative. Still, these fools had called her out, and leaving the engagement area wide open was a mistake... a slightly obvious mistake, but maybe that was for the best. She unrolled an old weapons satchel and began to equip the blades. Throwing knives, a folding dagger she hid at the base of her tail, and then, a hunting knife with a dark crimson hue to the blade. She unsheated it and took a look over the finished sheen of it, putting the pommel to her eye to check the tang and tip, taking some copypaper and deftly slicing it in two with nary a hiss. It had been quenched and treated in special oils to allow a dangerous level of swiftness to its edge, and it was Kari's singular trophy she retained from her days as Death's Eyes. The scarlet color of the weapon shone blood red across her face from the light in her bathroom. The weapon went back into its sheath and the whole bargain was belted to her waist, along with her trusty K90 ten-mil pistol, taken apart and prepared for the occasion earlier. It wasn't the strongest pistol she owned, but the point was to wound and finish up close; if anything, she rarely used the weapon except for a few bad jobs and her escape from DEN. The monitor of her computer had an online map of the area in question, and the ingress/egress routes drawn in dry-erase marker, one of them leading off the road and into the wooded area. It was all in her mind now, and it was time to go. Kari took a while yet to braid her hair into a short bun at the back. Her armor and pride rode on keeping her back away from the enemy at all times, so she worried little about someone grabbing it. With one final tightening of straps and stares into the mirror, Karilara Sunkiller went to leave her room, looking over it for a moment, then headed downstairs and out to her car, leaving the darkened home behind as she crawled inside herself to unlock the chains of a killer that rested patiently there.
There wasn't much to describe of the surrounding area besides the road leading to the attack site. The evening sky was overcast and lent a spooky muted tone to anything he could see. Larry, the look-out spot was in a perfect spot with a long view down the main road, which would give him ample time to call it in, get back to the others, or just hit the dirt and remain quiet while the others got the work done. Equal shares, that's what their leader had said, so this would be easy. Any second now, the binoculars, the road, and his awareness would lead to a huge payout and easy street for the rest of the year, if not, more. Sure enough, a car's lights topped the small rise before heading into the slight downgrade before rising back up into view, only the car pulled off to the right and vanished. Larry blinked, checking the road again; there wasn't any other way to the site than this, maybe he was seeing things? Larry hastily returned to his watch, waiting quietly, breath fogging in slow sequence, his weapon loaded and phone fully charged, he was ready. A blade gently touched under his chin and throat, making him lock up completely. "How many." said a voice, not asking a question. "Fuck you." The blade slid faster than he could call out with a smooth, silent metallic ring in the air and a puff of red mist, the thicker liquid behind drooling from the thin slice across his throat, deep enough to sever vocals, and so wickedly fast. Larry was gone a second after he hit the ground and laid still. Kari wiped the blood off on his coat and hurried to the site down the way.
Tom gasped wildly, his memories tangled at the ankles in dreams before reality. It all came back to him, the site, the run back, the conversation at the site, the orders to find and kill him. He almost got up and ran in a random direction, better judgement holding him in place to plan first. The gradual bones of the building were still nearby, a couple hours had passed, and from a careful peek around the tree and immediate area, he could see the cars hidden behind the portable offices for the project site. Lights were on in the first floor area, the gangers from before were visible, but just as he leaned closer, he noticed some movement on the top floor. His ears turned and listened carefully... definitely voices and movement up there. Further movement caught his eye suddenly, from on top of the portables. A dark monster of some kind was crawling across the aluminum roof, but it took on a more real shape when the red hair and tail were spotted. "You've gotta be shitting me..." he whispered, watching Kari move like a spider, hopping off silently to move around to the sides and disappear thru a small doorway in the wall there. Somewhere between panic and preservation, perverse interest was beginning to mount and urge him on towards what might be something crazy. With his heart pumping a little faster, he hurried from the woods and across to a vantage point. He almost shouted in surprise at someone staring right at him in the window he looked into, only to recognize his reflection as he ducked back down in the throes of a micro-coronary. 'A clean window... I'd only ever heard stories.' he thought, wondering for the 33rd time if this was a good idea, only to hear a voice above him. "I'm just opening it to let the breeze in here." "Just get back over here, something doesn't feel right." Tom sank lower, his shoulders somewhere behind his ankles as he held still. Movement was heard now, up the stairs to the balcony overlooking the office. The raccoon slowly stood up to try and have a look around the office area. They were silent, looking around, guns drawn... there was a squawk, a noise, like when you bump into someone, heard from up high, then near-silent taps. Blood was on the air. "Jack! What's up there, dude, hey!" called their leader, with seven of his men closing ranks. A bouncing thud was heard and something had fallen into the first floor. One of them produced a flashlight and pointed it towards the sound. It was a severed head. Sounds of terror and surprise followed, clicking of hammers, more flashlights now. Tom felt his mouth go warm and wet, portending vomit, but he held in check, looking around for the red-haired woman... something hit the ground heavily to their right and the bullets went chasing after it, the biomancers eyes growing wider as he saw it happen. The headless body had gone in one direction, Kari went the other, landing at their backs now as they turned to shoot, and she attacked. Her movements were continuous, impactful, touch-and-go, almost a dancer's grace. A knife flashed in the dark, and arms went around where it sailed past before their owner fell to their knees and collapsed. Two or three entanglements got more of the group injured or killed outright, one especially for certain as she held him as a bullet shield as a volley of blasts went her way. Gunfire erupted again, chasing the blue-eyed shadow aside, a gagging sound following from the attacker feeling a thin metal needle go into their open mouth. The attacker drew her own gun and fired twice, two shots blowing a splatter of red against the wall. There was only one left now, and barely 23 seconds had passed. "Oh FUCK this!" the fox grunted, laying down more bullets rapidly to force Kari back behind cover as he ran up the unfinished access stairs which lacked walls. The snow leopard wiped her blade off on the sleeve of one of the dead men, exhaling for a moment to assess her body quickly. In the confusion, she'd actually been attacked a few times, but seemed unhurt. She got a thumb under her sweater and lifted it, making Tom feel like looking another direction, only to see one bullet had struck home on the armor. As adrenaline ebbed, he could actually see she was breathing a bit labored; the flattened bullet was low and to the left, definitely struck a rib. Kari dug the slug loose with her knife and sheathed it, hurrying to the stairs to finish the job, leaving Tom to consider how to follow for a bit. That was when he heard the shout of 'NOW!' and football-arena lights erupt from the third floor landing. "That can't be good!" he said under his breath, moving into the atrium gingerly to try and see up above. There were probably 14 of them, all too big and almost arm to large arm. Kari began marking off targets in her mind, but it would be a terrible squeeze. It would hurt, and she was fine with that, it would really hurt, and she was fine with that... but capture was tantamount to death, so that she was not fine with, and would prevent at all costs. The hallway 'ledge' might be her only shot, but two stories down without a minute to prepare could cause a broken leg or arm. Many variables, all of them pointing to a grim conclusion. No capture. "She's cut off, get her!" someone shouted, and they came at her and she came at them. A haymaker greeted her first, dodged, a second attack stopped in a spray of blood as she clawed at the exposed side, aiming a hard kick up at the third, but three more were already upon her. Kari raked out and hissed, putting her foot hard into the side of an exposed knee to extend in sideways. The owner shrieked in pain, but Kari felt two blows, and another begin hitting home, so she dove through the opening and tried to get clear from the four behind them. Another fist cut across her face, all the shouting and yelling from her and them was gathering into a fever pitch, she was throwing fists and kicks, but could barely see from the mob striking at her from all directions. Someone pulled her back, and the racket was muffled by bodies as she was kicked at from the left and right, her arms crossed over her face and chest to guard. One hand closed around something, a brick, and she managed to hold it hard and punch its dense weight into what shins she could, managing to make enough room to get back up and go on the attack again, putting two of them down hard with savage brick-slams to the head. Suddenly, an explosion went off behind her and she went down to barely stop on one knee: her back stung like it had been ripped off and replaced again, she'd been shot and it went thru the armor just behind her right shoulder. Winded and wounded, she collapsed to the floor, motionless, hair hanging from the tight braids. The assembled attackers stayed around her, out of breath and some clutching at hard injuries. "Fuck... aaahh-- fuck, the bleeding won't stop.." "Did we get her? Someone make sure she's still breathing." "Hold still, man, I think your skin is flapping off." "AAAAHH! DON'T TOUCH IT!" "Moe! Hey, someone get the med kit, he's not breathing!" The damage sustained from the attacks were enough to hopefully repair, but Kari was facedown and feeling her body alive with pain, wisely trying to breathe shallow to appear harmless. Hands suddenly grasped her from behind and hauled her around on her knees, bent before the doorway as her breathing came in low, labored gasps. It hadn't gone well, and there could be more in reserve. What the feline wasn't expecting to see was Fennel, who had flipped her off only two days ago now, stepping out of the shadowed doorway to close the distance. A zip-tie closed at Kari's wrists and her odds shrank significantly. Fennel put a finger under the snow leopards chin to meet her face-to-face. "Hey, bitch, guess you've been having a pretty nice fuckin' time of it, yeah?" Heavy breathing only responded, Kari's face contorted in anger. "Well, don't expect us to lose any sleep over those guys you killed or anyone in your career, no... we're here because one specific job." Kari felt inwardly lucky; this Fennel woman seemed to have a need to talk, a perfect way to buy time. It was a long time ago, but she had ways of escaping zip-ties. "You're gonna have to refresh my memory here, sweetheart," she managed, coughing only once, "I've killed a lot of people." Fennel's eyes narrowed and she began to pace, Kari barely resisting rolling her eyes at this move. "2005, it was," said the wolf, "an old villa house in a secluded area of Campigliano, the home of a very important old man, one Allesandro Gabriele Russo." Kari thought for a moment, her ears pointing up as she pretended to vaguely remember "Oh, him! Head of a rogue crime syndicate that was attempting to muscle in on the Cosa Nostra operations setting up in Salerno. Yeah, entire crew found dead on the scene, and apparent leader stabbed once and left burning in a hearth like the old trash bag he was, THAT Allesandro Gabriele Russo?" Fennel looked beyond enraged, and decided to let a hard kick to Kari's nose provide the rebuttal. Her face exploded in cold pain, she felt something crunch in her nose and she bent forward, nearly falling onto the poured concrete to cough again, blood pouring from her onto the floor. She laughed somehow and leaned back as she sat up, feeling her options shrinking and somehow, not minding so much, or so it appeared and sounded. "Ha ha, heh.. kffh hnhh... oh wow, I haven't been beaten like this since prom night. Look, if you're gonna kill me or take me back to them for the reward, let's hurry it up already, can we?" Composure managed to return to the wolf woman's attitude and she came closer again to hunker down with a psychotic glint in her eye. "Oh, it'd be easy and a better use of time, no doubt. But you see, you killed my great grandfather, ruined my family's wealth in the subsequent criminal charges and all, and broke my father's heart... so no, we're not going anywhere." She had cupped Kari's cheek here before patting it gently and getting up again. "You gotta understand two things I got to work with here: one, the contact from DEN just said alive, not necessarily intact, and two, when I put the word out for people interested in this gig, I made sure to find some scum, I mean real monsters here, the kind of people that can't be trusted with pictures of a playground." There was sinister chuckles and calls from behind Kari and she began to feel a sting of actual worry, trying to hurry up with her wrists. "Once these disgusting reprobates are done holding you down and violating your fucking brain to pieces, we're gonna take some of these here medical tools and cut you down to size by numbers. We even brought a doctor to make sure you're alive when we toss what's left at the feet of this Bear guy." 'Come on, hands...' Kari thought wildly, almost stuck in the zip-ties now. Fennel smiled viciously, her back teeth exposed in the killers grin. "Gotta admit, this'll be fun to watch. Alright, you sick fucks, she's all yours." As a foot was pressed to her shoulder, Kari opted to make a quiet, scared noise all of a sudden. The others were still coming closer, but Fennel held up a palm and they stopped. "What?" said Fennel. Kari shook and trembled, feeling the terrible visions the imagination produced of her damnable fate. "Oh god, it's the end... let me just say something fast." The wolf huffed a bark of laughter and crouched close, shaking her head. "Always such badasses until you clip those wings... what is it, bitch?" "The... oh god-" and she whined a little, her head hung and trying to breathe, "Just remember this next time you have to kill someone, please!" "What about it, cunt?" Kari's palm slid up the other and relocated into place, and she smiled a skull-like grin.
"Just kill them."
All at once, she sprung out onto Fennel's torso like a cobra, her free hands scratching and raking at whatever she could reach, the wolf's going berserk as she shouted in pain while clawing and kicking at the serpentine assailant. The others recovered from the stunning instant and moved to attack her, but faltered as Fennel's screams became a wild shriek of agony, rising in pitch as Kari's head pulled back, one blood-soaked paw holding her down. Clamped in her sharp teeth, at the end of a long, stretched line of viscera and optic nerve, was a dark brown eyeball, coming free with a snap. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHAAAAAAA!!" Kari looked coldly into Fennel's shocked face as the moment froze in aghast eternity, her jaws holding the little fleshy ball up before smiling again and chomping it with a wet splatter and taking off to run to the stairs to the third floor. The goons were coming, she had to hurry. Clamored voices from below; they'd cut off the stairwell. Kari lungs were working like bellows as she gained distance down a 3rd story hall. With a little luck, the scaffolding could be a way down, if she had one good jump in her. It was on the left side of the building, she was almost there as the footsteps neared from behind, but the incomplete walls vanished fast and the jump was before her. 'Jump, take the landing, roll with the impact.' she hurriedly thought before turning to get a sprinting start back. As she turned, it all happened in slow motion. The loading mechanism advanced a shell into the barrel, and the quiet clicking of the trigger pull barely registered before there was an explosion and an impact that knocked wind and mind from her. She flew backwards so suddenly, the snow leopard might've seen her own tail. She tried to turn in mid air, but only glanced her arm across an unseen fixed pipe. It was definitely broken, and the pain threatened to blur out her senses. She turned more now and felt a dull explosion at her back this time, and the limit was reached. Her autonomic system seemed to have shut her down for reboot, and when she fell with a thwack to the poured cement below, she barely felt anything. One weak attempt at rising proved nothing and the lights went out all at once, leaving her at the worlds' mercy.

I was listening to Reddit stories on YouTube, wondered about whether or not I had a story to share, and remembered this story of my old coworker.
For a bit of backstory: I manage a small restaurant under a larger company. Sometime in early 2022, one of my coworkers receives a company car, nearly crashes it into another car on the way from the dealership to the restaurant, and gets traumatized by the absolute chewing out he receives from the older lady he almost hit. It goes without saying that he currently avoids driving like the plague. So now, we just have a car sitting in our tiny parking lot. It's a shame, since it was a pretty nice looking car, a Hyundai Elantra I believe.
Around this time, I'm getting into basic car maintenance, such as changing oil, headlights, coolant, and spark plugs. Consequently, I also own one of those little bluetooth code readers that connect to my phone to tell me if there's something wrong with my vehicle.
Now to introduce the star of the story, Kevin. He describes himself as "street smart, not book smart." He's a nice guy to a fault, but lacks a great deal of common sense as it will be apparent later. Kevin longs to own and drive a car of his own, but has yet to make the steps towards getting his license. At this point, he's failed the written exam a couple times and has not progressed on to the actual road test. I give him rides from time to time, such as when he misses his bus.
After the whole debacle with the car, I decide that it'd be essential to install a rearview camera so that anyone driving it would at least feel safer doing so. I've done the installation job before on my own car, so how hard could it be? I buy an okay looking rearview camera kit off Amazon, wait a couple days for it to come in, and quick Google search, and I'm quickly removing panels and wiring the camera to the company car's brake lights in the restaurant's parking lot after work. While I'm at it, I figure that I should check this car for any trouble codes. It's a used car, so it's probably got some issues on it, right? I pop in my code reader into the car and wait for it to spit out data. I finish the camera job and check my phone for any issues. Two trouble codes catch my eye: low battery voltage and a misfiring cylinder. Cool, I can just drop by the nearest auto shop to have the battery recharged and grab a spark plug for the cylinder. Two birds with one stone, easy.
Kevin, done with the restaurant closing duties, steps out to check out what I'm doing. I explain that I'm just installing a rearview camera for the car and making sure it's running properly. I keep in mind that Kevin also wants to own his own car one day, so I go into more detail into car maintenance, quickly explaining about batteries and spark plugs. I give him a little demo of how the rearview camera works. He asks me if he could sit in the driver's seat, and I oblige.
"Man, this car is NICE! I want a car like this," Kevin says. He plays around with the controls on the dash for a little bit. "Can I take it for a little drive?"
I immediately shut this idea down. "Kevin, you don't even have your license. What makes you think you can drive it?" I scold him.
"I can drive," he shoots back. "I've seen you drive before. I think I can do it."
You just asked me the about dashboard controls. As if.
We get out of the car and we get ready to go home. I have the next two days off and I want to spend them relaxing. "Kevin, the car has faulty spark plugs and a dying battery. Under no circumstances, do NOT touch the car while I'm gone. I honestly this this car is unsafe." I repeat this several times before we go home. Satisfied by his confirmations, I throw the keys in the register head home. I feel like you could already tell where this is going.
Fast forward a couple days. I'm just chilling at home and aimlessly reading my emails. My parents borrow my car to get groceries. It's quiet, and I'm at peace. Until Kevin FaceTimes me. Usually, when I get a call from my staff, it's a question about food or where certain items are in the restaurant. It's not often that it's an emergency. I sigh and pick up the phone.
Immediately I see Kevin sitting in the driver's seat of a car. Before he could even say anything, I blurt out, "Kevin, are you in the company car right now?" A short pause and he purses his lips like he's eaten something really sour. "Kevin, I'm not going to ask you again. Are you in the company car right now?" More sternly this time.
Dodging my question, all he can manage to get out is "I messed up..."
One of my kitchen guys told Kevin that we're out of cabbage. Since there's a supermarket about a 10 minute walk away, he decides to go there during his break. He considers walking but realizes that bringing back cabbage would be heavy, so Kevin concludes that he should take the company car there since it would cut his time in two and it'd be more comfortable. Note, we also have a staff member who can drive. Apparently he didn't think about it at the time. He thinks, instead, about how this will get him points for being able to solve a problem at the restaurant without me being around.
Kevin grabbed the keys from the register, turns on the car, and drives off. He makes it about two blocks before the engine starts to sputter and subsequently dies due to the misfiring cylinder. To his credit, he manages to maneuver the car to the curb and turn on his hazards. He immediately calls me right after.
"Kevin, I thought I made myself very clear that the car was off limits," I said slowly. He proceeds to mimic a Mickey Mouse laugh and say, "I made a littly f*cky wucky."
Head in my hands, I sigh again. "Kevin, I have no way of getting to you. You're gonna have to call around to see if anyone can help you out." We hang up the phone and I make some phone calls of my own. The first phone call went to the senior manager (SM for short). It's his day off as well, but it can't be helped.
"What's up?" The SM seems to be spending time with his family, since I hear his kid laughing in the background.
"Kevin apparently took the company car to go shopping for ingredients, the car broke down, and now he's stuck," I explained.
There was a long pause. "What the f*ck? Is he dumb? I thought he didn't even have his license."
"I already told him that he's not to touch the car under any circumstances, and on top of that the car is in need of repairs," I continued.
The SM tells me to call the vice president (VP), since he's working today and he's in the area. Honestly, I don't want to have to escalate this issue that far, but I have no choice. I know that the VP has so much on his plate already, but I give him a call regardless. The call goes more or less the same as with the SM, but the VP says that he's on the way. He's about an hour away, however. God dammit.
In the meantime, I call my friends in the area, explain the situation, and ask them if they could do me a favor and save Kevin. I'm not really sure if it's actually the spark plug, but I think they'd at least be able to give him some extra support while the VP is on the way. Nobody's able to help out, so I give Kevin a follow-up call. Keep in mind it's been half an hour since he called.
"Hey Kevin, did you get into contact with anyone yet?" I ask.
"No, not yet," he responds.
"Uhh, any reason why?"
A long pause.
Fed up, I strongly recommend he call the VP to tell him what he did. We hang up again and I go straight into bed and nap, just completely drained from the entire interaction. I'll follow up later.
I wake up from my nap and call the VP to find out what ended up happening. The VP caught up with Kevin and started up the car with no issues. The VP makes Kevin sit in the passenger's seat and they drive back to the restaurant in awkward silence. He has no words for Kevin, and instead tasks SM and I with scolding him about it. Fair enough.
The next time SM, Kevin, and I are all working together is in a weeks' time. SM and I agree to mess with him a little bit. I tell Kevin that SM wants to have a meeting about what happened. I hype this up throughout the week, dropping hints such as "ooh Kevin, you're gonna get it!" A week passes by in the blink of an eye, but it probably feels like a drawn out hell for Kevin. We let him fester and reflect about his actions. The three of us sit down at a table before the restaurant opens and I open my mouth.
"Kevin, never do that again."
I end the meeting there. Kevin, who's as white as a sheet, has the color return to his face and appear to have a huge weight fall off his shoulders. "Is that it?" He shyly asks. I confirm that's it. He laughs in relief, since he believes he'd be fired. I add that he's young and bound to make really dumb, stupid mistakes. If I tell him something, he really needs to listen. On top of that, since he's working for a business, his actions, noticed or unnoticed, are representative of the business as a whole. "And Kevin, for the love of all that is good, get your license."
TL;DR Kevin drives a car in need of repairs to the store without his license and it breaks down en route. He calls me for help, but I send him my boss' boss to him. We make him think for a week that he'd be violently punished for his actions, but we gave him a life lesson instead.