The pervading feeling was expressed shortly after the start of the season by a woman who struck up a beauty parlor conversation with the wife of Coach Arad McCutchan. "We're new in town," she informed Mrs. McCutchan, "and I really abhor basketball. But we're going to buy season tickets. There's nothing else to do on Saturday night, and we've become so lonely."
THE DOME TO DATE
The Houston Colts may starve for victories when they operate in their new $20-million domed stadium in 1965, but the customers will be well fed.
"We are going to feature restaurants serving the finest French and Chinese food," says Executive Vice-President George Kirksey. "People can come out to the dome, watch the game and send down for crepes suzette, souffl�s or egg foo yong. And for plain American fans, we'll have the hot dog."
The dome will have seven seating levels, each in a different color, and seats will be "soft rocking chairs," 46,000 of them. They cost $1 million, "the biggest individual purchase in the history of seat manufacturing."
And for $18,000 a season, a Colts' fan may buy a 14-seat box on the top level. It is equipped with bar, bedroom and closed-circuit television.
SPORT IN ART AGAIN
Scion of a circus family, Leo Jensen has been a rodeo performer. His attire leaves no doubt of this. From a pocket of a turquoise vest there dangles a cowboy- boot key chain. He wears an Indian-beaded red-and-white tie. His socks are navy blue, their drabness relieved by white polka dots. Graying sideburns extend below his ears, almost meeting a bushy mustache. He even stands like a cowboy. So when he says he once worked for Wild Bill Blomberg's Wild West Show you would not bet against it.
What you are not ready for is the discovery that he is an avant-garde sculptor, just winding up a most successful show at the Amel Gallery in New York, where his contrivances have become the darlings of the sophisticates and are selling for as much as 1,600 silver dollars apiece, though he will accept paper money, too. In his artistic aspect Jensen has gone so far as to take up residence in Old Lyme, Conn., which is very un-Western indeed.
At Old Lyme he turns out sculptures, of which the item illustrated herewith is a fine specimen. Many Jensen sculptures don't just stand there. They do something. With this one, called The Lure of the Turf, it is possible to bet win or place by spinning the dial in the center. Sport is one of his recurrent themes, in fact. In his Minnesota high school days he played football (two letters), track (two letters) and baseball (no letters). His hero of the current age is not Henry Moore, who does those statues with the holes in them, but Y. A. Tittle. Among his recent works are The Zipster (auto racing), Football Machine, King of Clubs (boxing) and Champion's Choice (baseball and breakfast food).