Jack Olsen's story about our big bridge tournament was simply superb (The Dogmeat Was Hard to Swallow, Nov. 14). This is the unanimous opinion of the 32 players assembled here in Pittsburgh for the International Team Trials. Having read several of Mr. Olsen's previous efforts, on many varied subjects, I would have to rank him among the great writers of this or any time.
IVAN E. ERDOS
I have never at any time in my life played bridge, nor do I ever expect to. Nevertheless, I thought that Jack Olsen's Dogmeat was the funniest, and best, article that has appeared in your magazine since John Steinbeck's Then My Arm Glassed Up (Dec. 20, 1965). Mr. Olsen has somehow captured in print the kind of moment that happens to us all: the thrill, panic and heartbreak that accompanies a wild scheme. In doing so, he has proved emphatically that he is the Max Shulman of sportswriters. May he continue to trump—or whatever.
ANDREW C. CRAIG
Thank you, thank you, thank you. Jack Olsen's story had me doubling up and trying to read through tear-smeared glasses. I nearly strangled with laughter.
Speaking of dogmeat, at a Brantford, Ont. sectional bridge tournament some years ago, two "little old ladies" won the qualifying round in the afternoon with a 216 (that's good) but didn't show up for the evening game! It seems they had come down to the hotel to play in an "afternoon bridge," like the ones they were used to.
JOHN G. ARMSTRONG
HEAVEN AND HADES
Congratulations on your excellent article, America's Best Ski Runs (Nov. 14). I wish you'd kept quiet about Taos Ski Valley, though. For years now, this has been the world's best skiing, but, if you continue to talk about it, they'll soon have waiting lines and crowded slopes.
THOMAS R. BROWNELL
Your selection will undoubtedly elicit screams of pain and outrage from the hundreds of skiers who feel that their particular favorite should have been chosen instead. Their choices will be no better than yours, but with the right combination of snow, weather, equipment, skiing ability and companions, any run and every run can become a "best." That's what makes—and keeps—skiing so fascinating.
For next year's selection I nominate the Hades run at Purgatory in southwestern Colorado. Hades, a new run, should be just as heavenly as the others.
J. R. DUNCAN
STEVE AND THE MRS.
John Underwood's article, A Bulldog's Answer to an S O S (Nov. 14), had a rousing total of four paragraphs on the Georgia-Florida game. The rest was Steve Spurrier. Underwood seemed to imply that Purdue's Bob Griese is unworthy of the Heisman award, but that a so-called Midwestern Bloc would vote for him rather than for the more deserving Spurrier. Well, I'd like to inform Mr. Underwood that Bob Griese is not only the top collegiate quarterback and best pro prospect, but also the best clutch performer. After all, he has led Purdue to victory against all opposition except Notre Dame and Michigan State, the top two teams in the nation. What's more, he has led the Boilermakers to their first Rose Bowl appearance in the school's history. Anyone who thinks him not worthy of the Heisman Trophy must be out of his mind.
We here in Boilermaker Land don't call Griese the "best," rather, we call him "better"—better than any other college football player north, south, east, west or straight up! Tune in Jan. 2 and see.
As a University of Florida football fan, I wish to commend you for your article on Steven Orr Spurrier. Here is a player whose greatness cannot be hidden even in the inglorious agony of defeat, as you so aptly pointed out. Athletes of his ability are few and far between. I am only sorry that your reporters could not have seen Steve Spurrier at his best, for that, I'm sure, is the eighth wonder of the world.
C. A. PRICE JR.