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PEOPLE

England's Lord Langford, a racehorse breeder and ex-steeplechase jockey, has a part in a film about Robin Hood. He plays a Norman cavalryman and provides his own horse. "I'm being paid five pounds," his lordship reports. And the horse? Five pounds.

On location near Madrid for a role in a "satirical western" called Preferably Dead, Nino Benvenuti took time out from one unfamiliar activity for another—bullfighting. "He showed no special interest in fooling around with the bull more than once," one observer reported. Benvenuti's motto appears to be "Preferably Alive."

Harold Hays, 49er linebacker, has won the Texas National Bass Tournament, outfishing 91 anglers from 15 states under far from ideal conditions. It rained heavily on the third and final day, high winds made Sam Rayburn Reservoir unsafe (five boats had to be towed in and two others almost sank) and at one point there was some question as to whether a tornado was going to hit. It didn't, but for Hays the fish did. He caught 105 pounds 5 ounces of black bass, for which he won $2,200 worth of cash prizes and merchandise.

ABC claims to have invented the instant replay, CBS disagrees, claiming it invented the instant replay and NBC claims to have invented the term instant replay. Jerry Kramer's book Instant Replay has sold 170,000 copies. Now Willis Crenshaw of the Cardinals and Charlie Brown of the Saints have formed a musical group and named it the Instant Replays. Too much, as the saying goes, is plenty.

A new Rolls-Royce advertisement devotes two pages to limning the tasteful extravagances of the Silver Shadow convertible ("The most personal Rolls-Royce of all"), among them upholstery made from the hides of beasts that apparently lived and died standing up, so as not to scratch themselves, and wood veneers coded so that should they be marred they can be matched from the same logs. The reader also is informed that, if he happens to be "a very personal shape," Rolls-Royce will design a special seat for him, as they did recently for "a 6'10" basketball star." Since the Silver Shadow goes for $31,600, the basketball star of the appropriate height and affluence would seem to be Bill Russell or Nate Thurmond, but the former drives a 1968 Lamborghini and the latter a 1969 Cadillac. Upon inquiry a Rolls-Royce public-relations person said that he thought the player was Wilt Chamberlain. But Wilt's shape is even more personal (by 3") than 6'10" and he drives a 1967 Maserati and a 1962 Bentley. Finally the PR man admitted to a "bit of difficulty" about the identification and passed the ball to the agency responsible for the ad. A gentleman there recalled hearing the story from someone who had spoken to someone while visiting the Rolls-Royce factory in England. The ad says, "The performance of any Rolls-Royce is a silky mystery." So, it seems, is the advertising of it.

Henry M. Jackson and Warren G. Magnuson, Democratic Senators from the state of Washington, frequently receive mail addressed to the Washington Senators but intended for the baseball team rather than the legislators. Sometimes the confusion is not cleared up until a communication has been read right through because, says Senator Jackson, "most of the letters begin, 'You bums....' "

There was a girl in his party when Joe Namath was picked up in Miami for careless and drunken driving and driving without a valid license; in such circumstances the gentlemanly thing, of course, is to keep the young lady's name out of it. When asked who she was, Namath replied, "Who knows?" Exquisite tact? Or not? Who knows?

It was Paul Simon of Simon & Garfunkel (flanking Commissioner Bowie Kuhn) who got to throw out the first ball for the Yankees' home opener this season because he was the one who wrote, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you." Simon, 27, is a longtime Yankee fan, who preferred, as a boy, to root for winners. "I felt there was enough suffering in real life," he explains reasonably. "Why suffer with your team?" This determined optimism apparently just barely survived Joe DiMaggio's departure for wherever it was he metaphysically went, and now Mickey Mantle has gone, too. Fortunately, Paul Simon has been heard to murmur, "There's something about that Murcer...."

The night New York was eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs, a bunch of the Rangers and their wives went to Gallagher's 33, a steak house, for some cups of cheer. The wives wound up cheering for patron Jack Lemmon, who decided the time had come in his life to go a few playful rounds with Gallagher's host, Tony Zale. Reg Fleming refereed and Rod Gilbert kept time, banging on a pot. Then Zale accidentally connected, and Lemmon decided he didn't want to play anymore.

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