In many ways, 18-year-old Raymond Patterson is much like his brother Floyd. He has the same sad-eyed look, the same slightly apprehensive expression, the same reticence. Like Floyd, he is currently training for a championship bout—in this week's finals of the New York Golden Gloves heavyweight division. Ray Patterson fights from a peekaboo crouch, like Floyd, and he occasionally springs forward with the patented Patterson lunge. He has wide shoulders and solid hips, his legs are perhaps too solid to permit nimbleness and he rolls like a sailor when he walks.
"Floyd handles my training," he says proudly, "when he's not in training himself." Sometimes the brothers spar together. "But Floyd doesn't try to hurt me, he tries to teach me." Would Ray ever get in the ring with Floyd—say, for the world heavyweight title? "I wouldn't fight Floyd serious," he says. "He taught me what I know. I'd be using it against him."
Last week the National Broadcasting Company presented a one-hour television show which may in time win an Emmy award as "the worst 60-minute show utilizing video tape and special effects to be presented in prime evening time and dealing with the subject of sports." Billed as The Bob Hope Buick Show and widely advertised as "starring Bob Hope and the outstanding athletes of 1960," it turned out to be a procession of spoken and photographic clich�s. Examples: Hope (to 7-foot 2-inch Wilt Chamberlain): "How's the weather up there?" Navy's Joe Bellino to teenage actress Tuesday Weld: "How would you like to go out to the Coliseum and see a football game?" Hope (interrupting): "There's no football game out there tonight." Bellino: "Don't worry, Bob, we'll think of something."
Aside from this, NBC used film clips of Chamberlain and Jerry Lucas making baskets in which all the activity centered about people waving their hats and hands aloft. It tried to make the viewer believe that Joe Bellino scored three touchdowns against Army in the 1960 game (by using a film segment from the 1959 Army-Navy game). Instead of using Patterson's comeback victory of 1960, it reran his 1959 flogging of incompetent Brian London.
Perhaps the whole show was summed up by Hope himself in his opening monologue in which he said, "This is a sweaty spectacular." But there wasn't enough sweat put into it.
'A GREAT LOSS OF TALENT AND GRACE'
The jet crash near Brussels that took the lives of all members of the U.S. figure skating team was a tragedy at once wildly improbable and starkly appalling. Of it, President Kennedy said: "Our country has sustained a great loss of talent and grace which had brought pleasure to people all over the world." Our regard for the athletes involved was expressed in Barbara Heilman's story on Laurence Owen and her family in our Feb. 13 issue. There is little we can add that would give a better measure of our shock and grief.