GOODBY TO FRANK
One of the gentlest and most beloved of sportswriters, Frank Graham of the New York Journal—American died in his sleep last week at the age of 71. And so a sadness settled over every spring training camp and in boxers' grimy gyms and in the stables of the big racetracks. These were the sports Frank Graham loved and wrote about so well. Those who took part in them returned his affection, without exception. For, as Jimmy Breslin of the New York Herald Tribune put it: "The guy was kind of a church of his own."
DISASTER AT OCU
On their way to Provo, Utah for the NCAA basketball regionals, Coach Abe Lemons and his Oklahoma City University team lost a few players. Two were graduated, two flunked out and one broke an ankle. Even the student manager flunked out. "That's the only student manager I ever lost through ineligibility," said Abe.
That left OCU with only seven players, and two of these never get into games anyway. Abe turned for reinforcements to an unlikely source, the student body. He found Perry Hill, 6 feet 6, who never had played basketball in his life. Hill went to Utah with the team.
"We needed him," Abe explained, "because we had to have enough to form two lines for our warmup drills."
HARD WAY RECORD
The acknowledged master of carp fishermen in England, where the carp is respected, is Peter Hemingway, a fireman who quit a good job as manager of a tackle shop because fire fighting gave him more time for fishing. Now he is being inundated with letters from other English anglers asking for his "secret."
Hemingway's only secret is that he has been spending night after freezing night lying on a camp bed by the River Nene in the middle of Peterborough. "It's the most miserable place Eve ever fished," says Hemingway, but the catch—rather than a bucolic, Waltonian background—is what he finds important. Last month, after 1,200 angler-hours, Hemingway's single-mindedness was rewarded when he landed a 33-pound 12-ounce carp, equal to the biggest ever taken in Britain.
Normally, there is no more chance of catching a big carp in the depth of winter than picking strawberries. But where Hemingway fishes, the warm-water effluent from an electric power station convinces the fish that it is June in January. This one, taken on nine-pound test line, accepted a piece of boiled potato as bait.
Hemingway is not resting on his laurels. He is back fishing nightly, his eye on the all-waters record of 55 pounds 5 ounces, set at Clearwater Lake, Minn. in 1952.