Here is a list of why Price needs to be bludgeoned with a heavy object:
- "Nice area, great folks!" Price says this about every area that comes up. Upon learning that the opposing team's interim third base coach hails from Slag Heap, Michigan, Price will invariably chirp, with Jaycee-like enthusiasm, "Nice area, great folks!" in hopes of one day receiving complimentary tickets to the annual Slag Heap Nuclear Fall-Out Festival. At this point, Price seems to think this phrase is a charming personal trademark. Blatant, indiscriminate sucking up isn't that charming.
- "He really put the buggy whip on that one!" When any Tigers batter hits any ball hard, at any time, Price trots out this tired old chestnut of his. It only makes me want to take a buggy whip to him.
- "Wow!" This one is reserved for things that happen that amaze Jim Price, and that he does not wish to share with the radio audience. "Wow!" is normally followed by a long silence during which the frustrated listener will normally be screaming "Wow WHAT!?" at their innocent radio. This leads us to
- "You can see that he might have been safe on that play." No, Jim, we can't see anything because this is radio. We can't see the replay that you are obviously watching. Please describe what happened. Des-cribe. Deeeeescriiiiiiibe. Oh, forget it.
- "That's the art of pitching, folks!" See "buggy whip" except for pitching.
- Yellow Hammer. In the bizarre world of Jim Price, curve balls are "yellow hammers." In case you missed it the first four thousand times he recounted it, he and former Tiger Pat Dobson supposedly came up with the term in the late 60's. So, unfortunately, a yellow hammer isn't something you can stave in his stupid skull with.
- Catcher ego trips. According to Jim Price, catchers run the game, figure all the angles, eat all the sandwiches, and sing Yankee Doodle while jumping through flaming hoops riding on the backs of giant, winged hippopotami.
- Jim Price, hero of 1968. Although Price was probably an adequate back-up catcher, that's all he was. To hear him rattle on...and on...and on about it, however, one is left wondering how he is not enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame with his own special wing. Too bad he is not aboard an airplane, at great height, with no wings.
- His friendships with notables. Price is constantly recounting his recent encounter with his good friend Al Kaline, or Boog Powell, or John Glenn, or Abraham Lincoln, or Jesus Horatio Christ on a hand car. He taught Mariano Rivera his signature pitch while playing catch. Babe Ruth to slug homers and eat hot dogs. The sun to rise and the world to revolve around it. Moreover, these notables always "look great!", even the alcohol-ravaged wrecks who weigh 92 or 455 pounds and get around on Amigos.