THE TEAM THAT ISN'T THERE
Caught subsidizing football players last year, Indiana U. was put on trial by the Big Ten for doing more or less openly what almost everybody else was doing clandestinely. This week Indiana was found guilty by its peers, and a three-part sentence was imposed. First, the university was placed on one-year probation. Second, it was ordered to forfeit its share of conference TV revenues (about $75,000). Third, in accordance with football bureaucracy's unwritten law, "If you can't keep it clean keep it quiet," Indiana was told that for 1960-61 its games as well as its recruiting had better be clandestine. The Hoosiers may play out their schedule, but win, lose or tie, the results will not be listed (or counted) in conference standings.
ONE MAN'S MANNA
To the sponsors of the lawn fete at St. Philomena's Roman Catholic Church in Franklinville, N.Y. the slowly descending parachutists were like manna from heaven. They were part of a show that helped swell attendance to almost 4,000. To the fans at the Franklinville-Salamanca baseball game the selfsame parachutists were like rain from the sky. They forced the umpires to call time on three separate occasions. They were part of a show that helped swell attendance to almost 4,000. To the fans at the Franklinville-Salamanca baseball game the selfsame parachutists were like rain from the sky. They forced the umpires to call time on three separate occasions.
'COME ON-A MY HOUSE'...
John Buckley is a man who knows a good thing—and hangs onto it. Buckley is manager of Paul Pender, holder of [2/50] of the U.S. (and world) middleweight championship. The good thing for Buckley and Pender is fighting in Boston, the old home town. Buckley's boys seldom lose in Boston. They seldom win anywhere else.
A logical fight, of course, would be between Pender, titleholder in New York and Massachusetts, and Gene Fullmer, champion of the rest of the world. But Buckley will have no part of it. "We ain't going to fight Fullmer in Utah, where he's the home-town boy and would have everything going for him," he says.
What about Terry Downes, the British Empire champion who wants a title match in London? "They offered us $85,000 for a fight with Downes," Buckley observes, "but we'd get robbed there, too."
Finally, French Middleweight Marcel Pigou wants to meet Pender in Paris. "I don't know French, but I know the French," says Buckley. "Nine times I had fighters in Paris. Nine times we get guillotined."
Buckley has a simple solution to the problem. He says, "We'll fight anybody—in Boston."
Tommy Bolt, the Vesuvius of golf, has been quiescent since his eruption at the National Open last month, but the lava flow continues.