Larry Csonka will receive a trophy as "the most beautiful player in the NFL" from the Bryna Cosmetic Company. Although the Miami-based firm usually presents its beauty trophy to one of its female consultants, this year it goes to the Dolphin running back by unanimous vote of its employees, who are mostly women. One of Csonka's qualifications, according to Bryna, is that he has broken his nose 10 times.
The most popular bookie in London often earns a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers from customers along with the cash. This bookmaker is a curvy, blue-eyed blonde ex-model named Shirley Anne Rawlings. She got her first betting shop as a 21st-birthday present from her father, a longtime bookie. While on her honeymoon, Mrs. Rawlings had the shop done over in pink and white and had a big pink neon sign made that reads SHIRLEY ANNE THE BOOKMAKER.
Her business is booming, Shirley Anne feels, because many people are discouraged by the traditional bookie joint, which is generally grimy, drab and gloomy. Her mother helps out in the shop, her husband is thinking of joining her, and she says that if they have children they will raise them in the business. On her form, that could be the start of a line of very good-looking bookies.
Maryland State Senator Joseph Staszak is a sporting man who loses some and wins some. On a recent hunting trip he sighted and hit a big buck from a tree stand. Knowing that downed deer sometimes get up and run away, he waited 45 minutes before clambering out of his tree—sans rifle—to check on his motionless prey. Suddenly the deer was up and bounding away with Staszak hot in pursuit. He caught up once and grabbed the tail, only to have the deer pull away. Again he closed with the same slippery results. Well, that one he lost.
Later Staszak found greener fields in poker, Polish poker to be exact. "You play it with only four cards instead of 52," he explained to a labor lobbyist, then dealt out two aces and two kings face up, as both anted up a quarter. "Now each player gets to pick a pair," Staszak explained. "You go first." The student went for the aces, the senator for the pair of quarters. That one he won.
At least Staszak knew what he was hunting. When four cows and a horse were shot by itchy-fingered gunners in the vicinity of Port Isabel, Texas, Justice of the Peace Bud Emmons flipped his judicial wig. "We're not going to put up with this stuff any longer," he warned. Any hunters found guilty of killing a farm animal in the future, the angry Emmons said, with a slight variation on an old theme, "had better commend their souls to God, because the rest of them belongs to me."
Babe Ruth's birthplace, a modest row house at 216 Emory St. in Baltimore, has finally been rescued from threatened demolition and will, after all, be restored as a monument. The city has agreed to pay the last necessary $60,000. Celebrating that announcement, the Babe's widow Claire and his daughter Mrs. Brent Ruth Stevens climbed the stairway, the banister of which is an ironic memento of past difficulties. Us 714 bat balusters, each commemorating a home run, were offered at $100 apiece to donors (their names are inscribed on the bats, which remain in place) to raise money. Only 320 were bought.
In Tampa, where 35 years ago he sprinted 100 yards against a thoroughbred horse and won, Jesse Owens finally confessed. "It was a cinch," Owens said. "The gimmick was that the start was signaled by a gunshot. Our starter always used a large caliber with an unusually loud noise and he was careful to stand beside the horse and jockey. By the time the two had recovered from the fright caused by the blast, I was 50 yards down the track. Never lost a race."
Joe Namath has joined the bandwagon of tobacco chewers. "My dentist says it shouldn't stain my teeth," Namath said, seeking to reassure worried womankind. "Anyway, I have a thing about brushing my teeth. I have toothbrushes in my locker and car and even take one on planes when I travel." Which leaves the question of the locker room, the car and the planes. Did the dentist say anything about not staining them?
Joe Martin operates the 21st Century Love Cinema in Toronto, which sounds something like a skin-flick theater—possibly because it is one. The profits from this enterprise subsidize a pretty kinky obsession Martin has: a five-team indoor soccer league. "Maybe 2,000 people a week see our films to be educated," Martin says. "That means maybe $12,000 a month for me. I'm investing that in a soccer league." The bare minimum he could do for the game.
Nate Thurmond, the Warrior center, opened a new restaurant in San Francisco recently. It is called The Beginning. Thurmond explains, "We hope it will be the first of several. But if we don't make money with this one, you can figure out another name."