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- Faces in the CrowdJune 11, 2001
"I know that one should not look a gift horse in the mouth," said roly-poly old Nikita Khrushchev, bubbling with goodwill on a visit to Hungary. But the precept was promptly forgotten when Hungary's Communist Premier Janos Kadar presented him with a coach and five dashing stallions as a door prize. On the chance, presumably, that Mao Tse-tung might have gotten to Kadar first, the Russian dictator started to peer into the lead stallion's mouth with an old peasant's caution when the horse reared away. "I just wanted to see if they are young," K. explained.
"I'm never going to play baseball with your son again because he's a bad sport," said a strong-minded 10-year-old to former Ambassador to Finland Carl T. Rowan. "Why is he a bad sport?" asked the ex-diplomat who recently became the first Negro chief of the USIA. "Does he still want to pitch and umpire too?" "No," replied the white youngster. "Carl is not a good sport because he never lets me be Willie Mays."
"I couldn't stand that ugly cheesecloth thing," said the wife of famed Lexington, Ky. Horseman John H. Clark when a doctor some years ago suspended her broken arm in gauze, "so I decided to design a sling of my own." The result—a modish swatch of silk held together by silver rings—was such a success with her friends that Mabe Clark is now in the sling business for keeps. Damaged members belonging to nine-goal Polo Player Lewis Smith of Aiken, S.C. and Kentucky Horseman A. B. (Bull) Hancock Jr. have been fashionably slung by Mrs. Clark, and the latest to wear a Mabe sling is Texas Governor John Connolly, who returned to work with his arm resting tastefully in gray herringbone.
Pulling furiously at his oar in a Columbia University shell on New York's Harlem River, Heikki Hannikainen, son of the Finnish ambassador to Peru, suddenly spotted a damsel in distress. Leaping from the shell, the 21-year-old crewman swam over and grabbed 7-year-old Ann Cushin just in time. "Luck," said the modest Nordic hero. "I hit the right current and found myself right next to her." All right, but in 46� weather the Harlem River is no sauna bath.
Challenged to jump—"If you've got the guts, we've got the plane"—by some of his wartime friends, TV Writer Rod Serling took off into the Twilight Zone above Fort Bragg to conjure up some airborne memories. After 19 safe years on the ground, ex-paratrooper Serling (right) jumped out of the plane at 1,200 feet and plummeted to a perfect landing. "Just like landing on a Sealy mattress," he sighed, with a TV man's faith in sponsors.
"Throw your heart over the bar," Dr. Norman Vincent Peale once counseled a diffident high jumper, "and your body will follow." On the chance that such positive thinking might work with lagging hockey players, Toronto Coach Punch Imlach whipped his slumping Maple Leafs off to a showing of One Mans Way (the Norman Vincent Peale story on film) after a bitter loss to Montreal in the Stanley Cup semifinals. The positively charged Leafs won the next game to tie the series, but, alas, the Peale wore off and the negative Canadiens went ahead once again.
"When sailing one forgets all the cares that are usually on one's mind," says Gaston Defferre, the intrepid Mediterranean yachting champion whose major concern ashore is how to oust Charles de Gaulle from the presidency of France. "When I sail in a race," says the Socialist sailor, "I sail to win." And if Defferre fails to sink his opponent at the polls, it may be only that what held true for the yachtsman in an Easter race off Marseilles last week is true also of French politics. "The weather," as one Defferre crewman put it, "was very difficult, and the wind was against us."
Secret Agent James Bond gets his kicks by tracking down dangerous spies and beautiful women. But his alter ego, Actor Sean Connery, prefers soccer. A former pro player in England, Connery dashed out for a quick game in Turkey while filming From Russia with Love, ended up with a black eye and a stern command from the studio never again to put Bond in such jeopardy. "Anyway," said the battered Connery, "I was so out of practice that I kicked the Turks as often as the ball."
Queen Elizabeth's first cousin, Prince William of Gloucester, and nine Stanford classmates pushed off from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for a bit of fun in the sun in a beautiful chartered yacht. One hour out, the mainsail jammed halfway down the mast. Then the engine failed to start, and when the seagoing Indians and their royal chief tried to call for help the radio went kaput. With nothing to do but wait out the calamity, Prince William, or Just Plain Bill, as he likes to be called, decided to cook up some bacon and eggs. The stove blew up.