A short walk really isn't much exercise, so former West Point Trackman Edward White (below), who still holds the cadet record for the 400-meter hurdles, was running on the beach last week. After all, he was going to be spending all but 20 minutes of four days confined in a capsule with no sporting activity other than hearing a report of his son's Little League achievements. Young Eddie, he was bulletined, went one for three as the Dodgers—Eddie's team—beat the Yankees 11-10.
Duke Snider was a fine ballplayer, and he may become just as good a manager, but he will never make it as a psychologist. As his Spokane Indians were taking the field against Portland, Snider noticed that Beaver Pitcher Tommy Kelley was wearing a red belt. All the other Beavers wore black belts. Kelley, you see, had attended Cleveland's spring training camp and had brought back his belt. He had worn it in his first game, won and had continued wearing it through nine consecutive victories. But as Kelley prepared to face Spokane, Snider strode to the plate and, in a tone of command, barked to Portland Manager Johnny Lipon, "Get that man into uniform!" Off came the Pacific Coast League-leading pitcher's red belt. On went a black one. Kelley, de-individualized, wound up for the first pitch. Ball one. One hundred twenty-seven pitches later, it was clear that his luck had changed. Instead of merely winning, Kelley pitched a no-hitter.
Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were in Elmira, N.Y. over the Memorial Day weekend. They hiked and played croquet and agreed they had had "a real fine time." Then the couple, after a first date arranged by friends who thought it fitting that they should meet, separated and began their respective summer vacations from Atlantic Union College and Furman.
When Bear Bryant forsook Texas A&M to return to alma mater Alabama back in 1958, he explained that the offer to coach at 'Bama was "just like hearing Mama call." Well, Mama is calling again. This time she is offering the governorship of Alabama. The legislative movement to change a state law which prevents George Wallace from succeeding himself now seems likely to fail, and Wallace himself would probably prefer to run for the Senate. Political insiders say Bryant almost certainly will run for governor and almost certainly will be elected. Bear is reported to have a million dollars' financial support already. Bryant is even expected to carry the Auburn vote, on the premise that the Plainsmen will fare better with him in the governor's mansion than where he is now.
San Francisco Manager Herman Franks thinks the way some of his players have been teaching English to Masanori Murakami, his Japanese pitcher, is funny—but not that funny. "I don't think Murakami knows what he is saying," complains Franks. "Every time I speak to him he answers, 'Take a hike.' "
To the dismay and disgust of Texans, a Pennsylvania high school all-star football team beat a Texas team last fall (SI, Aug. 10, 1964), and Governor William Scranton has Governor John Connally's ten-gallon hat and spurs to prove it. Since an intrastate Texas all-star game was occurring at the same time, many Texans felt they had not sent their best to Pennsylvania. Well, Texas gets another chance this summer, and Scranton has already issued his challenge. He wants to bet Connally 1,061 apples—one for each college football player produced by Pennsylvania last year.
Former Middleweight Champion Sugar Ray Robinson, who says he wants one more try at Joey Glardello's title, may take over Sammy Davis' title role in Golden Boy instead. In Honolulu for an exhibition bout (which he lost), Robinson said he studied the musical's script in preparation for a possible Broadway debut in October.
Vacationing at Cancel Bay Plantation in the Virgin Islands, Mrs. Lyndon Johnson wasn't at all dismayed by lowering skies and high winds. Attired in a canary yellow bathing suit and a face mask, Lady Bird was busy snorkeling.
The Mets had sunk to new depths, as scores proved: Oberlin 10, Mets 5; Western Reserve 8, Mets 4; Emory University 10, Mets 0; Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity of the University of Minnesota 8, Mets 7. And, after those four losses, their fans were deserting them. If the touring Metropolitan Opera softball team couldn't even beat broken-down college faculty members, the ballet girls said, who could be expected to maintain interest? True, the Mets' red-and-gold uniforms were pretty. Admittedly, they had the most melodious voices shouting encouragement from the outfield and the most expensive fingers stopping grounders. But 10-0 to Emory? Player-manager-third-base-man-first-trombonist Keith Brown answered criticism the way most managers do: he shuffled his lineup. It now reads:
The real battle on Grand Prix tracks this season is not between Ferrari and Lotus or Surtees and Clark but between Steve McQueen and John Frankenheimer. Each is planning a film on auto racing and each wants to build up his supply of background footage at the big races. More than secondarily, each wants the other to get as little footage as possible. The two men spent a whole week glowering at each other across the lobby of the H√¥tel de Paris in Monaco and revving up their engines while they waited for the Monte Carlo Grand Prix to start. Frankenheimer claimed he had the film rights to the Monte Carlo, and Monte Carlo officials agreed. Steve McQueen? Well, he intimated he was just stopping off on his way back from signing up the N√ºrburgring and Reims races. Frankenheimer, not to be outdone, claimed exclusive contracts with all Grand Prix races in 1965 and 1966. Don't bet against a collision at the next curve.
"What I do after the game's over is my own business," said Houston Outfielder Lee Maye, and then lifted his splendid tenor voice in song for a nightclub that is suing the Astros. M. M. Stewart, owner of the Dome Shadows nightclub, admits that he contracted Maye with malice aforethought: the player's presence dramatizes Stewart's opposition to exclusive use of the word "Dome" by the Astros. But there was an added benefit: Lee's voice attracted an audience of 1,000. Or was it really the voice? Maybe it's just that any Dome packs 'em in.
Abe Marcus, percussion
Roger Hiller, first clarinet
Morley Meredith, baritone
Keith Brown, first trombone
Bill Weibel, asst. conductor
Earl Ringland, chorus
John Grande, asst. librarian
Leonard Hindell, bassoon
Herb Baker, percussion