"Stick a fork in him--he's done" (Dizzy Dean, 1944)

[Bapopik at AOL.COM]

"STICK A FORK IN HIM--HE'S DONE"

   A happy all-American phrase blend of baseball and barbecue.
   I had found 1953, but I re-checked on the newly digitized THE SPORTING
NEWS and on Ancestry ("stick" + "fork" + pitcher").  Once again, Ancestry beat
THE SPORTING NEWS, and by a lot.


   25 July 1944, BERKSHIRE EVENING EAGLE (Pittsfield, Berkshire,
Massachusetts), pg. 5, col. 2 (Sports Roundup by Fritz Howell of the AP in New York--ed.):
_Today's Jest Star_
   John P. Carmichael, Chicago Daily News: Dizzy Dean as a broadcaster is
tickling his listeners' ribs with this one: When a pitcher starts going haywire,
either through wildness or throwing base hits, Dean chirps over the mike: "You
can stick a fork in him folks--he's done."

(Also in THE HERALD PRESS, St. Joseph, Michigan, and THE MARION STAR, Marion,
Ohio, for the same date--ed.)

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OT:  BACK TO WORK IN THE BRONX

   I worked today from 8:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. (with a half-hour lunch) in the
Bronx Help Center.  It re-opened yesterday (Thursday).  On Tuesday, there had
been an explosion.
   How could it possibly re-open?  There are bars on the windows, no
emergency alarms, no sprinklers, etc.  Don't fire officials have to check?  Don't they
have eyes?  They would put out a fire in the Triangle Factory waste basket,
then invite everyone back in?
   Evidently so.
   About a week ago, I saw Al Sharpton host SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE.  Paris
Hilton was also on the show.  Al Sharpton's running for President of the United
States.  SNL gave him some soft-ball sketches to show that he's a great leader
for civil rights.     Yes, Al Sharpton and Paris Hilton, live from New York.
The best and brightest of American culture.
   Several years ago, I gave my "Big Apple" material to Al Sharpton and his
National Action Network.  I needed his help to honor the black men who called
New York City "the Big Apple."  I got no reply.
   And then I was reading the NEW YORK POST last week.  There was a
front-page story about Paris Hilton's farmboy.  Then there was a front-page story about
Trista's (THE BACHELORETTE) wedding.  Then there was a story about Michaerl
Jackson.  Then there was a front-page story about Gwyneth Paltrow (she's have a
baby).  (The front page of today's newspaper--both news and sports--is about
a Yankee pticher signing a multi-million-dollar baseball contract.)
   Then came this explosion and almost dying thing, and that was the last
straw.
   I wrote another letter to the New York City Council speaker and various
City Council Members.  I asked that "Big Apple Corner" be removed for the 80th
anniversary of the "Around the Big Apple" column.  I mentioned my pathetic
12-year fight to honor the  African-American stablehands.  No one has done
anything.  No one has been even kind.
   I said that I'd almost died for the City of New York that morning.  I'm
Barry Popik.  Aren't I part of New York?  Aren't I a human being?  Could someone
answer me?
   There has been no reply.