A WOMAN'S PLACE
In Benwood, W. Va. they called it the end of an era, and that was no overstatement. Herman Gongola, 240-pound fullback, played his last game for Union High School, which meant that next season, for the first time since 1942, no son of Mr. and Mrs. Andy Gongola will be on Union High's football team. Emil, Joe, Anthony, Vic, John, Pete, Tom, Ed, Fred, Stanley and Frank preceded Herman at Union, and in athletic competition the 12 of them won a total of 81 letters—an average of almost seven apiece. Before Herman's last game each of the boys—there are no Gongola daughters—was presented with a wallet, and Mr. and Mrs. Gongola were given a color television set.
The occasion was a great thrill for the elder Gongolas, and particularly so for Mrs. G. She was watching her first football game.
ONLY THE SPITBALL IS WET
The new stadium being built in St. Louis for the baseball and football Cardinals will include subterranean irrigation and heating systems. Underground drains will carry off excess water, and when electric soil-moisture sensors feel too dry, sprinkler heads will rise automatically and water the grass. To reassure those who fear that a sprinkler head might pop up in the home half of the ninth just in time to deflect a game-ending double-play ball, be it known that an electric timer will prevent casual watering during games.
Electric heating cables will melt snow and keep the turf unfrozen, and they will also provide a better playing surface by fostering a denser growth of grass: heat from the cables will inspire grass to keep on growing right through the winter.
It's all a little sad. Perfection always is. No more muddy, belly-whopping catches of fly balls like the one Bob Allison made in the World Series. No more desperately striving pass receivers disappearing into sideline snowdrifts. Unless—happy thought—there should be a power failure.
THROUGH IMPROPER CHANNELS
When a dedicated surfer sees water, he goes slightly off center. If he is a southern Californian and the water appears in all sorts of strange places—like coming straight down from the sky—he is likely to bust a mental grommet.
Take the case of Peter Talovich and John Tuck, two San Marino teen-agers who went surfing down the flooded Los Robles storm sewer. Twenty-five times they did it on everything from washboards to planks; on the 26th try they barely got out. Both lost their boards in sudden "wipe-outs," then couldn't climb up the washed-out walls of the storm drain. Police, who spent all day looking for the boys and fishing them out, said the surfers had gone down the drain for the last time.