Ed Block, the
trainer, wipes the players' faces as they come off the field as long as the
game is going well for Baltimore. Dick Spasoff, Block's assistant, doesn't
budge from where he is standing if the Colts begin to move the ball, and he
stands there until the team bogs down or scores.
Don Kellett feels that victory is assured if, on his way to a game, he can spot
a truck carrying empty beer kegs. When a player has a run of bad luck,
Equipment Manager Fred Schubach gives him a sniff of ammonia to improve his
fortunes. Big Daddy Lipscomb, a defensive tackle, has the bandages removed from
his hands toward the end of a game—provided the Colts are leading—to indicate
that he doesn't expect to be sent in to play again.
The two defensive
ends work their magic with clothing: Gino Marchetti never turns anything inside
out, and Ordell Brasse puts his equipment on from the left, beginning with the
With a little
help from the Baltimore players (who happen to add up to one of the best pro
teams in the country) this dam of cobwebs and moonbeams has held off disaster
quite effectively. Things looked bad last Saturday afternoon, when Don Kellett
failed to see a beer truck on his way to the stadium. But everyone else's charm
was working, and the Colts beat Washington, 35-10.
Life in a
Our food page
last week described the sporting and gastronomical pleasures to be had over the
weekend at Amory Haskell's Woodland Farms during the running of the Monmouth
County Hunt Race Meet. Among the hospitable preparations made for more than
1,000 expected guests was the erection of a race meet members refreshment tent
overlooking the steeplechase course. As it happened, this tent turned out to be
the meet, because during Friday night 2½ inches of rain fell on New Jersey, and
on the Saturday of the meet itself rain continued to fall by the gallon. The
result was the most memorable and, unexpectedly, the most entertaining race
meet in the running of the Monmouth County Hunt. At least that is the way it
looked from inside the refreshment tent.
By post time
perhaps two-score cars had slithered up Mr. Haskell's drive and begun to settle
in the mud. Their occupants, men, women and children, bundled up in
foul-weather gear from a dozen sports, promptly made for the members'
refreshment tent, which began to take on the look and camaraderie of a
country-house weekend, a Red Cross disaster station and a lifeboat tossed on
the open seas. In the middle of the tent glowed a charcoal brazier and over it
huddled two young matrons taking turns toasting their shoes dry.
seen Mary since she's back from the West Coast? I think my inner sole just fell
in," one said to the other. Their own and other offspring meanwhile were
helping themselves to gargantuan quantities of the hot buffet planned for 10
times the number of people present.
ever seen so many fabulous things you could actually eat?" asked one
10-year-old of her older sister.
In a corner a
television set blared forth the progress of the Pitt-Army game, and in another
stood a bar, the reaching of which required some agility and a real thirst
since a formidable mud hole formed by a leak in the roof had to be forded.