SI Vault
October 23, 1961
Decrease font Decrease font
Enlarge font Enlarge font
October 23, 1961


View CoverRead All Articles View This Issue
1 2 3 4

Hill attended the U.S. Grand Prix at Watkins Glen, N.Y. as honorary chief steward, and intends to be on the sidelines in upcoming races. "I may enter the November 26 Formula I race at Mexico City," he said. "I hope Ferrari can be coaxed into assembling a Grand Prix car for me." Clearly, Phil Hill is not yet ready to entrust his reputation to any other manufacturer.

Consider Gary Miller. Bright, young, healthy, effervescent Gary Miller. Gary is, alas, one of those guys that start throwing the football around in April, begin to put oil on the old baseball glove in December and shoot hook shots at the hoop in the playground come August. Sure, Gary's a season-beater. On October. 10 at 2:30 p.m., Gary traveled 30 miles from his home in Salt Lake City, Utah to Brighton. There he found 20 inches of snow on the ground, took a practice run in preparation for his ski instructor's exam, twisted a ligament and wound up in an, elastic cast. Felicitations to Gary Miller, first reported ski casualty of the season.


The State Gaming Control Board of Nevada has completed a two-year survey which indicates that anyone who gambles in either Reno or Las Vegas has a better chance of winning than he thinks he does. Well, that's their story anyway. At twenty-one, or its variation, blackjack, the house has an edge of 2�% over the player, and a good player can often cut this down to 1% (the house rules in Nevada make the dealer stick with 17 or over). At roulette the odds favor the house by 5.26% on a double zero wheel and only 2.7% on a single zero wheel. The slot machine gives the operators a big edge, sometimes as high as 10% over the player.

The best bet for the gambler is craps, where the house take is a mere 1.4%. Worst bet? A game called blackout bingo. You put up a quarter. If you cover all 24 of your numbers in 52 calls, you can make $1,000. Odds against: 60,458 to 1. So when in doubt, roll the bones. Maybe you won't win, but at least you'll lose more slowly.


John D. Hertz, who died last week at 82, was a man capable of running a highly successful car rental business and a highly successful Thoroughbred racing stable without Letting the commercialism of the first corrupt the sportsmanship of the second. He came into racing as a jockey's valet, one of the most menial racing jobs, at the outlaw track in Roby, Ind. From then on he spent most of his spare time studying horses, and became one of racing's most astute breeders and buyers.

A typical Hertz move came in August 1927, at Saratoga. He showed up late for a 2-year-old race and didn't know the names of the starters. As the field entered the stretch, two horses pulled away and ran head and head through the stretch. Near the finish one horse turned his head and tried to bite the other. Hertz was a man who believed what he saw in racing and not what he heard. He told his stable agent to buy the horse that had savaged regardless of the cost. "The one who tried to bite interested me," Hertz said, "because he was the fighter." The next year that horse, Reigh Count, won the Kentucky Derby. Fifteen years later Reigh Count's son, Count Fleet, won the Triple Crown, and eight years later Count Fleet's son, Count Turf, also won the Derby.

Hertz ran all his horses in his wife's name and was the breeder of all his wife's winners. Thus far, no decision has been reached as to whether Mrs. Hertz will keep the "yellow silks, black circle on sleeves, yellow cap" flying on America's tracks. The world of Thoroughbred racing hopes she will.

1 2 3 4