Skip to main content
Original Issue


Dave Edwards is the least publicized of the Dallas Cowboy linebackers, and a writer for the Dallas News decided to do something about it. He called the Edwards home and Edwards' wife Gail took down his number, promising that her husband would call back. A couple of weeks later the writer asked Edwards why he had not returned the call. "My wife wrote down your number on a piece of Kleenex," Edwards sighed. "Then, a little later, she blew her nose."

Three starters on the Montclair State College of New Jersey basketball squad are named Henley Black, Calvin Blue and Ricky Brown. Blue comes from East Orange, N.J.

When a Dallas radio station broadcast a simulated football game between the Cowboys and a team of alltime all-stars, reaction was so favorable that it did a follow-up: a halftime report in which an unsimulated Coach Tom Landry and various Cowboys were asked their reactions to playing the stars of yesteryear. All went smoothly until the interviewer stuck a microphone in the face of Cornerback Charlie Waters. "Charlie, would you tell us just what you thought of Jim Thorpe and playing against him?" the interviewer asked breathlessly. "Well," Charlie answered solemnly, "he's not bad for a 75-year-old Indian."

A group of sportswriters touring Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City was told that Chief Owner Lamar Hunt had bedrooms in his private stadium apartment. "What kind of bedrooms are they?" a team official was asked. The man shrugged and said, "The same kind of bedrooms you'd find in any stadium."

After a hair-raising overtime victory, Ohio State's basketball team found that its chartered airplane couldn't get off the ground. A hastily hired bus got the Buckeyes to Columbus 6½ sleepless hours later, but when the team unloaded at five a.m. one man was missing. Closer inspection found 6'7", 220-pound sophomore Bill Andreas soundly asleep in a luggage rack above the seats. Seems that comfortably stretched out and nestled atop everybody else's hats and coats, he was the only one who enjoyed the ride.

Well, it happened. Just as prophesied (SI, Oct. 2), Duke Wayne, the actor, met Wayne Duke, the Big Ten commissioner. The two men attended the same Rose Bowl luncheon and an alert toastmaster made the historic introduction. John Wayne broke into a huge grin. "I can't believe it," Duke said, exposing himself as just another Californian who does not follow the Big Ten very closely.

Then again, certain fans may be deficient in their scanning of the silver screen, too. Ted Kluszewski, the Cincinnati Reds' muscular batting coach, has been sporting around in a wide-brimmed Western hat. After wearing it to a Cincinnati Bengal football game, he reported hearing this conversation behind him:

First party: "You know who that is in front of us, don't you?"

Second party: "Sure I know. That's John Wayne."

Johnny Unitas, who probably has played his last season as a Colt, has been asked to submit his equipment to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Unitas agreed, with one exception: the ripple-sole, high-top shoes he used on artificial surfaces. "They're great for wearing around the yard," he said.

Mrs. Ida Griese, better known as the mother of Miami Dolphin Quarterback Bob Griese, will appear with her son in a new commercial for Fletcher's Castoria. In it she attributes some of her success in raising such a healthy, vigorous and talented son to the sponsor's nostrum, an oldtime laxative for children. Others participating in the ad are Mrs. Olivia Chamberlain and Mrs. Margaret Boone. They say their sons, Wilt and Pat, took the same easy road to stardom.

A Miami pastor who thought it might be as important to attend Christmas Eve services as the Dec. 24 Dolphins-Cleveland Browns playoff game was whistled offsides by his church council. The Rev. Carsten Ludder printed $11.50 tickets for "50-yard-line" seats at "the game of a lifetime" between the Superstars and the Devils, and in a letter couched in football terms peddled them, tongue in cheek, to parishioners of Christ the King Lutheran Church. Football, Rev. Ludder intimated, was too high on some people's priority list, but, lo, in almost no time he had raked in some $300 and the council was calling a halt. Upper deck in the Orange Bowl may cost $10, it said, but you can still get into church on a freebie.

Vic Janowicz, a Heisman Trophy winner at Ohio State and one of the biggest sports figures of the '50s, does part of the play-by-play announcing of Buckeye games. An old football hero coming back as sportscaster is hardly unusual, but Janowicz has one other little specialty. He makes predictions on his pregame show. Of 61 Big Ten and pro games this season he was wrong only five times.