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PEOPLE
Pedaling his way into our hearts this week is tannery executive Norman Lezin of Santa Cruz, Calif. who donated $10 toward the purchase of a bicycle to any employee who would cycle to work and leave his car at home. Out of 230 tanners, 100 now pedal furiously up and down the hills of Santa Cruz on their 10-speed French Merciers or English Dawes. "When the whistle blows," said Lezin, "it looks like the Tour de France."
Scene: Opening bell of first round at Miami Beach—and here come middleweights Ed Brady and Mike Maret. They square off. Brady misses with a whistling right hook and falls to the canvas with a dislocated shoulder. Maret bends down and hits the fallen Brady in the stomach. Judges award Maret a TKO. You know what we award him.
All sorts of problems in Miami these days. Consider Dolores Caraballo, one of the jockeys riding at the new Calder Race Course. The name Dolores won't do, says Dolores, appealing to Steward Eb Pons to change his name on the programs to something more masculine like, say, Don Caraballo. "Not enough connection between Don and Dolores, and the bettors might become confused," says Pons. But he offers to list him as D. until someone can come up with a name that sounds like Dolores.
Well, there's always Dolly.
Word comes from Florida's Representative Robert Sikes' office in Washington that a bunch of his constituents along the Choctawhatchee River have just finished their second annual worm-fiddling contest. Worms are fiddled by driving stakes into the ground and rubbing the stakes with wood—the vibrations bring fat, swinging worms to the surface. Emmett Sellers and Charley Potter brought up 37 worms each, then got down to earth in a dramatic fiddleoff, with Sellers luring 13 more crawlers to the surface. Representative Sikes did not enter the contest. Probably doesn't want to be accused of fiddling while the worm turns.
This little item is accompanied by the clash of symbols: Woodsy Owl of the U.S. Forest Service and Johnny Horizon used by the Department of the Interior. Old Woodsy is given to snappy sayings like "Give a Hoot, Don't Pollute," and Johnny represents "a concerned citizen"—or he would if Woodsy Owl would just go away. The two campaigns just don't mesh, and "Woodsy Owl is an overlapping clement," growls Interior executive George Gurr. And while this high-level government squabble is going on, who is watching the store? Smokey the Bear, that's who.
Remember the item in last week's SCORECARD about the Ohio crow that stole golf balls? Well, this week we take you to the Royal Colwood Golf and Country Club in Victoria, British Columbia—where Thelma Cooper has just stroked a chip shot onto the 6th green. Suddenly, a big crow swoops down, grabs the ball and flies away. No penalty, the judges decide, so Thelma goes on to win the hole. But she lost the match, which was the—groan—Helen Crowe Championship.
Phillie Vice-President Bill Giles was only kidding when he advertised on his new $3 million scoreboard that Veterans Stadium would be a great place for a honeymoon, FREE CHAMPAGNE, NAME IN LIGHTS said the ad. So who should turn up but newlyweds Diane and Dick Swadley. Giles rose to the occasion with lights, champagne and all, but is still puzzled. "We never once suspected that a couple would rather come to the ball park instead of, well, you know...." Yeah, we know.
Then there is Minnesota Twin Pitcher Bert Blyleven about to be wed. The ceremony is very solemn. But the handiwork of Bert's pals becomes evident when the bride and groom kneel. There, printed on the soles of Bert's shoes, is "HELP."
It isn't often you see Joe Frazier floored, but top-notch voice trainer Carlo Menotti—who usually works with opera stars at New York's Carnegie Hall—thinks this is a super position for strengthening the diaphragm. Joe is training to improve his voice for his role as lead singer with Joe and The Knockouts. The group has been considerably less than successful on tour, but soon they're going to try again, possibly in Caracas. Hit it, Joe!
The Live Show vs. Tape Award goes this week to tennis star Cliff Richey, doing a slow burn recently in the Washington Star International Tennis Tournament. Wind, sun, bad calls, bad bounces and the steady play of Andres Gimeno got Richey a bit uptight—but it was that loose tape over which he tripped at a crucial moment that made him come apart. That wasn't the only thing that came apart. Down slammed Richey's racket. Then he grabbed the offending tape and pulled. Rrrrip! It took half an hour to put the court back together again so that Gimeno could go on and win. Love's labour lost.
On behalf of ecumenical movements everywhere, we cite the plight of C. E. Jackson Jr., who is trying to round up entries for the World Clergy Golf Championships to be held next October near Nashville. The 40 entries so far include Baptists. Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Disciples of Christ and a sprinkling of Catholics. "Not ecumenical enough yet," says Jackson. "We're short of rabbis."
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