Faces and Figures Were Familiar, but the Week Brought Changes
CHANGE OF OCCUPATION: Hog-jowled Paul Anderson (at left), former weight lifter, moves in on Ben Sharpe in his pro wrestling debut at San Francisco. Cast as the good guy, the Georgia Strong Boy quietly suffered bites, gouges and insults from Villain Sharpe before winning as planned.
CHANGE OF DRESS: Looking exactly like a sporting parson in black-and-white turtle-neck sweater, golf's Old Soldier, Gene Sarazen, beams after winning $1,200 first prize money in the National PGA Seniors' Tournament at Dunedin, Fla. Sarazen showed his famous knickers to the rest of the field, sinking a final-round, 2-under-par 70 for a 72-hole total of 288.
CHANGE OF LUCK: After trying for eight years, without success, to win the Doherty Women's amateur golf tournament at Fort Lauderdale, Fla., Mary Ann Downey of Baltimore finally lucked out, beat Marlene Stewart Streit of Font Hills, Ontario 1 up in 37 holes. Below: she applies body English on the 15th green but failed to make the tricky 25-foot putt anyway.
CHANGE OF SKIES: This curve on Desoris Lane in Glen Cove, N.Y. cast a dark cloud over the future playing career of Roy Campanella, veteran catcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers (see page 23). Ironically, a caution sign is prominently displayed only a few feet away from the utility pole which caused Catcher Campanella's automobile to flip over, breaking his neck.
CHANGE OF STYLE: Just visible behind the wrecked hood of his Maserati racing car, World Champion Juan Manuel Fangio pulls into the pit for emergency repairs. Fangio smacked into a fence at the start of the 1,000-kilometer race in Buenos Aires Jan. 26. It was a bad day all around for the Argentine speed merchant, who after 24 laps had to pull out for good.
CHANGE OF DECOR: Leningrad's Winter Stadium, until recently a rundown arena for ice hockey and other winter exhibitions, got an over-all remodeling as an athletic plant, reopened with a blaze of pyrotechnics and a shimmering display of lady gymnasts. The dedication ceremonies pointed up the nationwide physical fitness program carried on by the Soviet Union.
The School of Hard Knocks: Mr. Patterson, Instructor
The Floyd Patterson Boxing Boys Club meets every day after school at Patterson's training camp in Greenwood Lake, N.Y. It has five members—one now on 30 days' suspension, as Floyd says, "for playing the harmonica while I was talking." The four in good standing are: President Russell (Satan) Pollero, 10; his twin, Raymond (Geronimo); Kevin (Something Wrong) Hennessy, 9; and Philip Williams, 10. The nicknames are of Floyd's invention. The main purpose of the club is to learn to box. But Patterson, a troublemaker when he was a boy, sees it as something more. "Since we started the club last year, not only have their marks in school improved, but the kids have become more polite and mature. As for their boxing, if I had started at their age, you know I'd really be something."
Geronimo Pollero listens to instructions before sparring. Patterson bought the boys' equipment with money from training camp admissions.
Something wrong Hennessy mimics Floyd in mirror. "Watch me," says Floyd. "When you jab keep this hand here, don't turn front."
Pooped Philip wants to be "atoms for peace" scientist when he grows up. "I want to invent new ways of heating houses, cooking foods," he says, "unless I go in the Golden Gloves and win a lot of medals. Then I might reconsider and become a professional fighter."
Shower-Room Lecture concludes the afternoon's workout. After dressing, boys are treated to fruit juice in Floyd's room before he drives them home. The club showed its appreciation at Christmas by giving the champ what one boy called "a great big, fancy $20 clock."
"WHEN YOU GOT YOUR MAN HURT, STOP," PATTERSON CAUTIONS HIS BOYS
GERONIMO BOBS UNDER PHILIP'S RIGHT CROSS. "ONLY A QUARTER SECOND LEFT," SAYS FLOYD