Since kings these days are granted less freedom to act than athletes, it probably will not affect Greek politics. Nevertheless, it seems fit and proper that the new King of the Hellenes, Constantine II, should have been the first man in 48 years to bring an Olympic gold medal home to Greece. As Crown Prince Constantine, the King sailed his Dragon class yacht to victory in 1960.
The man who led the Bounty mutineers was at it again, this time in aid of a tribe of resentful anglers challenging an ordinance of the State of Washington that forbids local redmen to fish in rivers outside their reservations. Actor Marlon Brando and a Puyallup Indian chum named Bob Satiacum cast their drift nets into an off-limits river. They promptly were confronted by an irate game department official. "Are you here for the purpose of defying state law?" asked the officer. "I am here," said the Mr. Christian of the Northwest, netting his second steelhead, "to help the Indians fish, and if that is a violation of the law, then I am."
While other executive lunchers are stuffing themselves with crab Newburg and Martinis in midtown Manhattan, 63-year-old Grant Keehn generally is working out in a local gym. Some kind of nut? Not exactly; he is the new president of Equitable Life Assurance, a company that pays out several millions a year to the widows of businessmen who ate too much and exercised too little.
Those fine old Kentucky gentlemen, Hillerich & Bradsby, did not exactly say "How dare you, suh?" when Blue Grass Governor Edward T. Breathitt tried to buy a supply of Louisville Sluggers for Peace Corpsmen in Venezuela, but that was the general idea. "Take your money, suh, and buy baseballs with it," said the world's first firm of bat-makers. "We will supply the bats for free."
Alaskan Magistrate Robert M. LaFollette, whose grandfather, "Fighting Bob," was one of the "little group of willful men" that knocked Woodrow Wilson's League of Nations right out of the ring back in 1919, made his own debut as a fighter at the age of 37. Heavily pounded in the first two rounds as a novice heavyweight in the Anchorage Golden Gloves, he came on strong in the third, but—unlike his grandfather—lost the decision.
The Wilkinson that used to head the nation's fitness program is Bud, but another of the same name—President Ernest Wilkinson of Utah's Brigham Young University—has proved himself equally vigorous. Resigning his job—like Bud—to run for the U.S. Senate, Prexy Wilkinson, 64, refused to accept the gift of a letterman's Y blanket until he had proved his worthiness by stripping off coat and shoes and doing 47 pushups on the spot (right).
"I suppose," admitted Secretary of State Dean Rusk sadly as he gaped at the towering young basketball players of the Southern Conference, "that I was the last of the midget centers. I was only 6 feet tall." But the onetime star of Davidson College's 1931 quintet has not let his stature discourage him. Even now, he admits, he sometimes slips on that old Big D sweater and tries a few layups on his son's backyard court.
After zooming his plane under 15 Thames River bridges in a zesty moment 10 years ago, Christopher Draper, England's famed "Mad Major" of World War I, somehow managed to survive the fuss and regain his flying license. Now, alas, the exuberant fly-boy has been grounded for good—but not for youthful excess. A strong-minded female bureaucrat in the British capital simply decided that at 72 the Mad Major is too old.
Experts may argue the question of how Cassius Marcellus Clay beat Sonny Liston, but quiet little 45-year-old Miss Coretta Clay thinks she really knows. Every day when Cassius was a boy he pedaled his bicycle over to his Aunt Coretta's house and picked up four or five pieces of her secret-formula fudge. "He always claimed it gave him quick energy," says the champion's aunt shyly.
Doubling as a sportswriter for Moscow's Red Star, Russia's " Golden Eagle," Pavel Popovich, was proud to report that cosmonauts make better hockey players than ideologists do. A team of his fellow spacemen, wrote Popovich, blasted a sextet from the Young Communist League right off the ice with a blistering 10 goals to 2.