But Berst obviously felt it was the paper that should be embarrassed. Said Berst, "Once it printed a story which would lead people to believe that the school was guilty of violations, it retreated from any responsibility for determining whether the facts that it stated were correct. I object to that personally."
Objection overruled. The Herald-Leader had, in fact, determined to its satisfaction that its stories were correct, and it continued to stand by its reporting even after the NCAA came up empty. What the Herald-Leader retreated from was the NCAA's demand to see the newspaper's background documents. Berst failed to understand that newspapers conduct investigations not for the benefit of the NCAA or any other governing bodies, public or private, but for the benefit of their readers.
The NCAA's handling of the Kentucky case is only the latest evidence that its investigative techniques are ineffective. Said John Carroll, managing editor of the Herald-Leader, "My impression is that both the NCAA and the university approached this investigation without enthusiasm. I know there are sincere people who still can't believe that UK would violate the rules."
The New England Sports Network, which will telecast 83 Red Sox games this season, has signed former second baseman Jerry Remy to be longtime announcer Ned Martin's new—and natural—partner in the booth. Yes, on many a night, Red Sox fans will enjoy a snifter of Remy Martin.
JACK PLAYS SOME HEAVY METAL AT DORAL
At last week's Doral Open in Miami, Ben Crenshaw won with his old-fashioned boyhood putter and some obsolescent implements—wooden woods. In fact, Crenshaw used his time-tested putter to complete a 14-under-par 274 performance with an 18-foot birdie putt on the 72nd hole. It gave him the stroke he needed to beat Mark McCumber and Chip Beck.
But while Crenshaw was leaning on an old standard, New Wave technocrat Jack Nicklaus was playing heavy metal. That's right, golf's archtraditionalist came to Doral with the scourge of classic-club collectors—a metal-headed driver. But Nicklaus is pragmatic, above all else, and he used his new war club to good effect. Indeed, until his final-round 75, he had powered his way around Doral's Blue Monster course like the Golden—not Olden—Bear.
"All I know is, this driver makes my [persimmon] three-wood feel terrible," said Nicklaus, whose metal club was produced by the MacGregor golf equipment company he co-owns. "Very simply I hit the blasted thing straight."
Still it didn't seem right to see the man whose wood shots cracked like no one else's switching to the dull clink of metal. "It's like Eric Heiden wearing roller skates," said Lee Trevino.
Actually the new driver is an appropriate symbol of Nicklaus's apparently revived game. During 11 PGA tournament appearances last year and one this, during which his best finish was a tie for seventh, Nicklaus seemed resigned to playing less than his best, to being a ceremonial golfer. This winter, however, he has undergone a new conditioning program designed to alleviate the aches from 26 years of pro golf. And he went back to his old hunched-over style of putting after he saw a replay of a 1963 match between him and Sam Snead.