?For the point of view of another man of the cloth, see p. 56.—ED.
I see by your Nov. 28 issue that the nut named Van Alen, who completely destroyed the essence of tennis with VASSS, is at it once more, this time to sharpen his claws on the game of golf (Untroubled Sport Called VAAGG).
I wonder if it has ever occurred to Mr. Van Alen that he might be holding up sane players with all those mulligans of his? Mr. Van Alen also knocks golfers who play winter rules in the summer. He's a fine one to talk.
I agree with most of James Van Alen's ideas. However, there is one thing wrong with hitting a mulligan on every shot. Suppose you are playing in a foursome and each man hits two shots from the tee. You now have eight balls in the fairway (supposedly in the middle), and the inevitable mix-up and time-consuming effort in trying to unravel this mess is not worth the trouble.
I believe I played through Mr. Van Alen a month or two ago at a nearby course. I recall the incident vividly, since traffic was backed up a considerable distance behind him. His first ball off this particular tee lay in the center of the fairway, while he probed the bushes somewhere off to the right in search of that buck-twenty-five mulligan.
Oh, yes. He was playing alone.
James Van Alen's VAAGG would convert golf from a cross to a crown for most of us, and it might inspire honesty on the scorecards.
F. PIERCE SHERRY
Bob Ottum has finally said it. American skiing is better than Europe's ( America's Best Ski Runs, Nov. 14), Whenever I say this, people look at me as if I were daft.
After years of watching movies of skiing in Europe, my wife and I went on a ski vacation there in February and March of 1965, which, according to Europeans, was an extremely good snow year. We went to Kitzb�hel, St. Anton, Davos, Zermatt and Vald'Is�re, for the well-known places, and some other smaller areas. We found ice, rocks, poor planning, rude lift lines and just average skiing.
Don't get me wrong, there were good runs, too. Probably the nicest run we had was one from a town called Z�rs to another town named Lech in the Arlberg area. It had beautiful, squeaky powder snow, and wonderful scenery, but still it was only an intermediate trail. Often, we would arrive at the bottom of a trail and find we not only had to walk half a mile to the lift, but that it had a different owner and our lift ticket was no good.