Wouldn't you know that as soon as it became definite that the Dodgers really would locate way out West, where horses are TV stars, men are press agents and a calf is something just below the knee of some pretty girl, a set of pictures like this would turn up in SPORTS ILLUSTRATED'S mail? We give them to you for what they're worth, pausing only to note that, without intending to, the press agent and his Hollywood-conditioned photographer scooped all the sports-writers in expressing with eloquence the essential difference between the Dodgers of Brooklyn and the Dodgers of Los Angeles.
Oh yes, we almost forgot to mention that the press agent's subtler motive was the sale of automobiles—something about Miss 1958 Dodge for the Dodgers and, er...oh, well.
SHE'LL CATCH SOMETHING: A COLD?
GET READY NOW, SHE MIGHT PITCH IT
ALL RIGHT, MR. ALSTON, BUT WHAT DO I DO IF THE BALL COMES RIGHT AT ME?
IS IT A RHUBARB OR A RHUMBA?
NEWK'S CUTE, BUT THIS IS CUTER
ANYBODY SEE WHERE THE BALL WENT?
C'MON NOW, UMP, DON'T BE CROSS