Baseball’s peripatetic scribe, the New Yorker’s Roger Angell in the November 30, 2009 description of the Damned Yankee’s 2009 World Series Championship describes pitcher C.C. Sabathia thusly:
“Too bad, but I’m not going to get around to C.C. Sabathia’s sunny looks and pavilion-sized pants and weird, white-toed spikes, or ask batters how they feel about his fastball-cutter-changeup assortment that arrives (he’s six-seven and two hundred and ninety pounds) like a loaded tea tray coming down an airshaft.”
That boys and girls, is a simile.