Every Picture Tells A Story



Rod Stewart’s Album

This is a game: simple, quick, easy –if you like movies. Two or three times I’ve seen a game like this on the internet. The rules are: you will see 6 pictures from 6 films. Can you guess the films’ names? To help you, I will give 3 clues from each film. Then I’ll give you the names of 3 films. Guess the name of the film that has the picture and clues from the 3 possibilities. The answers will come after the quiz is complete.



Clues: a straw man …. a tin man …. a cowardly lion.

Film choices: A Star Is Born …. Meet Me In St. Louis …. Wizard of Oz



Clues: baseball …. Shoeless Joe Jackson …. a corn field.

Film choices: Eight Men Out …. Field of Dreams …. The Natural



Clues: a snow globe …. a sled for snow …. big city newspaper.

Film Choices: Citizen Kane …. The Third Man …. Touch of Evil



Clues: bowling …. White Russians …. a ruined rug.

Film Choices: The Big Lebowski …. Hell or High Water …. Iron Man



Clues: World War II …. North Africa …. piano player in a bar.

Film Choices: The Caine Mutiny …. Casablanca …. Key Largo



Clues: email …. Bookstore(s) …. NYC’s Central Park.

Film Choices: Joe Versus the Volcano …. Sleepless in Seattle …. You’ve Got Mail




Answers: 1) Wizard of Oz; 2) Field of Dreams; 3) Citizen Kane; 4) The Big Lebowski; 5) Casablanca; 6) You’ve Got Mail



About rcarmean

Two things... First, why have I decided to establish this blog? I like to put essays together. I research an idea or topic looking for information, statistics, stories, quotes, pictures, etc. I enjoy the process and seeing a finished product. I’m told that as I get older, new activities can help maintain energy and keep my brain alert. In other words, I am not doing this for money or fame. Second, regarding the gentleman in the collage of pictures above...it's not me. Those are photos of Christy Mathewson. Why him? When I was young, my primary activity was being sick. It took up much of my time. Eczema (a case so bad I was written up in a medical journal showing doctors what their patients COULD look like), asthma, and allergies. You know allergies: don’t eat this, don’t wear that, and, for Heaven’s sake, don’t touch any of these things (eg, dogs, cats, horses --I only saw horses in cowboy movies and TV shows, dust, swimming pools, my brother --OK, that’s an exaggeration, Rick was a fine brother). In my spare time between doctors' appointments, pills, and ointments, baseball kept me sane. In the 1940s and 1950s, when I grew up, pro footballI and basketball had not yet become extremely popular. Baseball truly was “the national pastime.” I listened to games on the radio (remember it? TV without the picture). I read magazines, books, and newspaper accounts of games. I collected baseball cards. I learned about the game’s history, as well as present. The same with its stars. One man stood out: Christy Mathewson. He was a great pitcher for the New York Giants in the early 20th century. But there was much more to him. At a time when professional athletes made little money (yes, there was such a time) and ball players were considered on the same level as actors, artists, and prostitutes, Mathewson stood out. One of his nicknames was: “The Christian Gentleman.” Most men is baseball drank, smoked, cursed, and fought —with other players, umpires, and fans. The fights were physical, not just verbal. Mathewson did none of these things. But he earned the respect of other players who did them all. Even Ty Cobb and John McGraw. There’s more. He was a college graduate (Bucknell University) when most men were lucky to have a high school diploma. He played other sports, including pro football which you wouldn’t recognize. He was handsome. He played in New York City, then as now, the largest city in the country. Excellence and popularity there meant fame and money. He dressed well. Today, his commercials would rival LeBron’s. And, finally, a hero’s life must have tragedy. After his playing career ended, WWI arrived. He suffered from influenza and was exposed to mustard gas. Chemical warfare. His lungs were damaged and he required treatment for the rest of his life. (Like my Grandfather who also fought in The Great War.) He died in 1925. He was 45 years old. I have his picture here because you need to know more about him than me. He was what an athlete could be. Players like him and their accomplishments got me through a sickly, painful childhood and can still sustain me in difficult times. *****
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