PEOPLE
When those 19 Republican governors and governors-elect sat down to dinner in Colorado after trying to decide whether to declare open season on Dean Burch, there was only one thing to serve them: wild game. The game, or almost all of it, was shot or caught by Governor John Love himself. "We served duck, pheasant, goose, antelope and trout," boasted Mrs. Love. "The antelope was the only thing John didn't provide. We ground up the one he shot for hamburger and sausage."
The tiny Welsh village of Nantymoel hasn't gotten around to erecting a statue of its favorite son, Lynn Davies, winner of the Olympic broad jump, but it has the next best thing. Painted on the pavement of Commercial Street are two white lines placed exactly 26 feet 5½ inches apart—the span of Davies' winning jump. Naturally, all the village children—and even some grownups—are having a go at the record, and leaping figures have become commonplace on Nantymoel's main street (below). Not insensible to the implied tribute, Davies is also a mite apprehensive. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if somebody broke a leg," he says.
A kind man but a just one, Lefty Gomez didn't want to be mean, he just wanted to set the record straight about his old friend Joe DiMaggio. Joe, said Lefty in a reminiscent mood the other day, was a grand guy and deserving of every honor he ever got on the ball field but as a fisherman the Jolter was a complete fraud. DiMaggio—said Gomez—claimed to be the son of a fisherman and the descendant of generations of fishermen. He claimed to have been raised on Fisherman's Wharf and to own a seafood restaurant on the Wharf. Yet when he, Gomez, finally got DiMaggio to go fishing with him, the mighty Clipper turned out to be strictly from Mudville. He, Lefty Gomez, even had to bait his hook for him.
From now on, things won't be the same for the wild animals of Luxembourg and Saudi Arabia. The new rulers of these countries are both passionately fond of hunting. Jean-Benoît-Guillaume-Robert-Antoine-Louis-Marie-Adolphe-Marc d'Aviano, Prince of Bourbon de Parma, Duke of Nassau and Grand Duke of Luxembourg, is a shy man until he gets a gun in his hands. Then he is a terror. As for His Majesty Faisal ibn Abdul Aziz al Saud, new King of Arabia, he would rather hunt antelope than strike oil.
Harvey Haddix, Baltimore Oriole with a reputation as a trouble-shooting pitcher, shot himself another kind of trouble last month. The trouble, to be specific, was a buffalo. When a half-grown buffalo bull given to neighbor Gayle Locke by Arthur Godfrey went berserk near Springfield, Ohio, Locke did what many a panicked manager has done. He called in Haddix from the bullpen. Following a trail of gored cattle, Haddix cornered the bull near some woods and killed it with five shots—from a .22 caliber rifle.
Concert Pianist Sir Francis Cassel has a racehorse named Raphael—which would be all right except for the fact that Raphael thinks he's a sea horse. Three times Cassel has raced Raphael at the royal track at Windsor, and three times Raphael has dived off the track into the River Thames, which flows alongside. Each time Cassel thought seriously of selling Raphael down the river—any river. Finally he decided to give the horse one more chance to prove he likes racing as much as swimming. Cassel entered Raphael in a handicap hurdle event at Birmingham in which the odds, understandably, were 100 to 8 against him. Raphael won. There is, it should be noted, no water near the Birmingham track.
When he isn't busy writing bills on everything from wilderness conservation to atomic energy, New Mexico Senator Clinton Anderson is a football fan, a director of the Dallas Cowboys and an unofficial scout. Senator Anderson couldn't resist telling an Albuquerque football banquet that it was he who convinced Cowboy President Clint Murchison Jr. to sign New Mexico Fullback Don Perkins. As a scout, Director Anderson is unofficial, but the Cowboys are sorry when they ignore his recommendations. After he tried without success to interest them in New Mexico State's Charley Johnson, Johnson became a fine quarterback for the St. Louis Cardinals.
Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko made a bearlike attempt at humor while telling the U.N. General Assembly about the White House hot line. "To check the technical condition of the line," said Gromyko, "Soviet operators frequently transmit extracts from the Hunting Sketches by the 19th century Russian writer I. S. Turgenev. The Americans transmit the results of baseball games."
A fast wingback and hard-hitting center fielder in Chicago high schools, Amerigo Marino was a candidate for a football scholarship at Northwestern, but he ended up studying music. Now he has been named conductor of the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. "A conductor or coach can never get his orchestra or team to do any more than he himself is putting out," said Marino last week. "An orchestra, like a team, can easily spot a phony."
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