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Upset over the All-India Tennis Federation's refusal to allow the Indian Davis Cup team to face racially segregated South Africa in the championship match, Anand and Vijay Amritraj said last week they would not play for India again. The Amritrajes, who got India where it was in the first place, felt they should have had a greater say in the decision.

Thus an already confused situation becomes further muddled. There is guarded hope, however. From three corners of the earth recently have come hints that the days of apartheid may be numbered.

In Australia, where he played through a heated demonstration by aborigines and their supporters, Gary Player said he thought that very soon now black pros would be competing against whites in South Africa, and Danie Craven, president of the South African Rugby Board, had similar news. Replying to a French suggestion that a team leaving for Europe a week later should include non-whites, Craven said that the time was too short for a change in government policy, but added, "We are, however, hopeful that they will do so for our next visit overseas. We are saying this because the government's sports policy is continually unfolding itself."

Putting it stronger, Alan Paton, the South African author of Cry, the Beloved Country, said in New York, "Our ruling politicians have come to the realization that the days of apartheid are over." He hoped the end would come peacefully, and not through revolution. Let us hope, too, that Player, Craven and Paton are accurately mirroring what is in fact occurring in their country and not merely what they fervently wish would happen there.


The 1960-61 Boston Celtics became known as the team of coaches. Bill Russell, Tom Heinsohn, Bill Sharman, K.C. Jones, Bob Cousy, Jim Loscutoff, Satch Sanders, Sam Jones, Frank Ramsey, Gene Guarilia and Gene Conley all coached at some level of basketball after their playing days were over. With the recent appointment of Oscar Robertson as color man on CBS basketball games, the 1962-63 Cincinnati Royals are making a play for the title of team of broadcasters. The Big O is the eighth Royal to go into the business. The others: Jack Twyman, Tom Hawkins, Arlen Bock-horn and Bob Boozer, all at one time or another color men on pro or college games. Dave Piontek is president of radio station WNOP in Newport, Ky.; Wayne Embry did color on Celtic and Milwaukee Bucks games before becoming general manager of the Bucks; and Coach Charley Wolf did the play-by-play for Thomas More College and occasional Philadelphia 76er games after quitting the sport.

The three other members of the team were not exactly strong, silent types, either. Bud Olsen became chief of officials in the ABA; Adrian Smith an assistant vice-president of the Central Trust Bank in Cincinnati; and Hub Reed a high school counselor.

A Rock Hill, S.C. restaurant believes in giving its patrons a sporting chance. Its French menu offers truite aux amendes, or "trout with apologies."


Now to clear up a little sports medicine that, frankly, has had us as confused as, we suspect, it has you.

First: sprains, muscle pulls and strains. Do you use heat or ice? Both, says Dr. Robert K. Kerlan, orthopedic consultant to seven major pro teams in Southern California (SI, Nov. 24,1969). They both offer relief, but they should not be used interchangeably. The best general rule: use heat before playing and ice immediately after. Heat relaxes and helps lubricate sore muscles; cold reduces swelling and inflammation.

Next: water. Do you drink it or not during competition? You drink it, moderately, and you need have no fears about losing your life for doing so, as was once believed. This advice comes from a five-person committee of the National Research Council. Its report says one should replace water loss by continuous fluid intake. Indeed, unless water is replaced at frequent intervals, heat exhaustion may result, leading to permanent damage or death.

Strongly criticized by the committee is the practice of drying out to meet specific weight requirements before boxing and wrestling matches. "Deliberate dehydration is never an acceptable method for control of body weight," the panel said, adding that such weight loss is only temporary anyhow and can cause kidney damage.


With the snows already falling, you people in the Rockies, watch out. Ray Finfer might be on the way.

Not counting the time Finfer just sat around the lodge in some neat-looking clothes, he has been skiing only three times. The first time, in Colorado two years ago, he schussed to the bottom—and kept going. Miraculously, he made it between two cars but halted, rather abruptly, against the side of a Volvo. Finfer, it should be mentioned, weighs 260 pounds. That cost Finfer, a Chamber of Commerce division manager in Fort Worth, Texas when he isn't startling people, only $250 in damages—to the Volvo, not him. It was a blessing.

The next time out Finfer totaled an entire ski class. It was like a perfect strike. Finfer unerringly got the head pin, and everybody else went flying. The third victim was a ticket booth. "The lady in it thought there had been an earthquake," Finfer says.

But Finfer does not even have to reach the slopes to be a menace. Trying on a pair of ski boots in a department store one day, he stepped up on a three-foot-high stand for a fitting. You guessed it: he fell off. He separated a shoulder—the only time he has been hurt—but that is not why everybody remembers the fall so clearly. He was on the mezzanine at the time, and as he fell he took a stool with him. It went over the side and landed on a stack of about 10,000 cans. Customers on the first floor thought they had been hit by an avalanche.

Finfer, enough is enough.

The Olympic torch that once took months to travel by relay from Greece to the site of the Games will be flashed between Athens and Ottawa in 1976 in less than a second by laser beam. Runners will carry it only from Olympia to Athens and Ottawa to Montreal.

If professional hockey is reluctant to rein in its unruly members, the Ontario Minor Hockey Association is not. Concerned at increased violence in the game, 899 delegates to the 41st annual meeting voted new penalties right where they will do the most good. A coach in the Pee Wee series and below (ages eight to 12) will draw a day's suspension every time his team incurs more than 26 penalty minutes during a game. Coaches of Minor Bantam and above teams (ages 13 to 18) will be allowed 36 minutes in penalties before getting the treatment. Said Vern McCallum, secretary-manager of the 142,286-member OMHA, "This is getting back to the coaches, where some of us think the unruly conduct begins."


In the long run, Father Paul Clarke, the new assistant priest at a Catholic church is Sleaford, England, probably would agree with the 11 theologians queried recently by the Chicago Daily News. They contended, for a variety of reasons, that there is no way a gambler can pray his way to the bank.

"Blasphemous," "magic," "perversion of the fundamental notion of prayer" were some of the objections. The most any of the 11 would say in favor of a gambler's prayers came from the Rev. Charles R. Meyer, professor of systematic theology at St. Mary of the Lake Roman Catholic Seminary. "It's not wrong to pray [to win]," said the Rev. Meyer, "but only if it be in accord with God's will, and that if it is against His will we don't want it." The majority agreed with the Rev. Dr. Kenneth Kantzer, dean of the Trinity Evangelical Divinity School of Deerfield, III., who thought God would be against anyone gambling, much less praying to win. He suggested that God's most likely answer to such a prayer would be to quit gambling.

Well, Father Clarke got into religion because of his wagering. As a young punter he found himself one day faced with £70 in debts. He went to church and prayed, then hied himself to the nearest betting office and backed two horses. They won £80. Later, faced with a bank overdraft, he sought guidance in another church. When he got outside he bought a racing form, and the name of a horse seemed to glare out at him. He bet on it and it won.

"That's when I started taking religion seriously," he said. "I believed I was being called to the church through my only interest, gambling."

Since taking holy orders, however, he has not placed a bet. "I sometimes try to pick a winner in my mind," Father Clarke says, "but the horse I choose never wins." His advice for unsuccessful gamblers: "Seek God's help, even though he might not give you the winner of the 2:30."


As fall ends, leaf jumping has not caught on, but that is because the rest of the world has not yet caught up to Justin Catanoso, who is not only the codifier of the sport but possibly one of the great leaf jumpers of our day.

Justin, who is 15 and lives in North Wildwood, N.J., began jumping into leaves last year when he decided there had to be something more rewarding in raking than sore shoulders, particularly now that burning is barred in most places. Ergo, leaf jumping, a not-so-simple game but a simply smashing way to get the neighborhood kids to help you rake your lawn.

The pile should be four to five feet deep and fluffed after each jump, says Justin. You need a runway of about 50 feet-there goes the old man's grass—and a foul line. Each jump is scored, up to a top of five, with points credited on form and the depth of entry. A flawless face-firster merits a point, a perfect Fosbury flop 1½, an impeccable single twist two and a super flip three. Sinking into the pile up to the neck is good for two points, waist-high one, and anywhere in the pile at all a half. A contestant who makes up his own dive can negotiate its worth with the judge, Justin says. You can hear those screams now, wafting out on the cool autumn air.

The London Sunday Express of Nov. 2. 1924 reported that Author P. G. Wodehouse was taking golf lessons in London. His professional? Chap named Jeeves.



•Red Grange on modern football: "I haven't seen a new play since I was in high school."

•Tony Mason, University of Cincinnati football coach, before facing Houston's defensive front four: "They come in at 6'8", 6'7", 6'4" and 6'5". If they stand up, we'll have to throw dirigibles."

•Teddy Brenner, Madison Square Garden boxing boss, asked if he was surprised at Muhammad Ali's demand for a $10 million purse to defend his newly won heavyweight crown: "Yes, I'm surprised. I'm surprised he didn't ask for $20 million."

•Gene Windham, Vanderbilt assistant football coach, advising freshmen: "If any of you have a problem of any kind—academic, tickets, girl friend—just come to me first, and I'll tell on you."

•Bobby Nichols, pro golfer: "If you have to remind yourself to concentrate during competition, you've got no chance to concentrate."

•Comedian Marty Allen: "The trouble with jogging is that by the time you realize you are in shape for it, it's too far to walk back."

•Tom Casanova, Cincinnati Bengals safety, explaining why he is not used on the kickoff return team: "Basically, I'm scared."