Terrell: I learned the guitar just sittin' around waiting for a fight. (At this point, he plays and sings a rock 'n' roll number, and is a big hit.)
Carson: What do you do now?
Terrell: Maybe I'll go back to Chicago and just play the guitar. Looks like I ain't gonna make no money boxing.
NOW, ABOUT THAT POLE
Craig Breedlove had just set a world land-speed record—526 miles an hour—on Utah's Bonneville Salt Flats last October when his car swerved from the course, sheared off a telephone pole, careened wildly and landed nose down in a canal. Miraculously, Breedlove escaped injury, though he almost drowned. Last week he got a letter from the Mountain States Telephone & Telegraph Co. offices in Salt Lake City. The letter explained what Breedlove's racer had really done: "Damage to telephone pole No. 4158 of the Salt Lake-Wendover toll line," the letter read. "Estimated cost of repairs: $200. Will you please furnish us with billing information?"
Every golfer likes to have a little something—or a someone—in reserve to alibi away that last dreadful round, but Professional Phil Krick would be the first to admit that enough is enough. Bad luck did not just follow him in the recent Cajun Classic, it took hold by the bag handle and led the way. The way it was, Krick was assigned this caddie for the qualifying round. On the first hole Phil hit a shot within inches of the flag-stick, but when he reached the green with his putter there was nothing there to putt.
"Where's my ball?" Krick asked.
"Heck, that's a gimme putt around here," said the caddie, and flipped him the ball. Two-stroke penalty.
On the 10th hole Phil sent a chip shot straight for the pin.
"Hey, yank out the flagstick," he yelled. The caddie, red-faced, struggled with the flag. Out it came—and the cup along with it. The ball caromed off the cup. Another two-stroke penalty.