Jimmy Ellis: "Boxing is my means of making a living. I don't want to get mixed up in those racial things."
Leotis Martin: "Nothing CORE says will change my mind. I'll fight for any promoter—white, black or anybody. But I don't hear any colored promoters knockin' on my door."
Ernie Terrell: "I won't pull out of the tournament. But if CORE wants to organize its own tournament and make me an offer, I would consider it."
Floyd Patterson: "To me, there is no justification in CORE'S proposal. Muhammad Ali is in a tough spot and for this I am really sorry, but he chose the course himself."
It might have been the greatest explosion shot in the history of golf. Last week in the Scottish Amateur Championship at Carnoustie, Jim Hay, a 30-year-old salesman from Glasgow, hooked his tee shot into a bunker on the 14th fairway. On examining his lie he noticed, half buried 18 inches behind his ball, a rusty metal object. On closer inspection it proved to be a bomb. "I realized it was some kind of explosive device and I was going to ask the championship committee whether I could have a free lift and drop," Hay said later. Instead, he elected to play—he was 4 up with five holes to go and hardly figured on blowing up. The ball flew out of the bunker, and the bomb was undisturbed. Hay won his match.
When he reported his discovery, the Royal Highland Fusiliers were called in from a nearby army camp. They gingerly removed the bomb, found it had a 12-second fuse and was still very much alive, and detonated it on wasteland nearby.
A member of the championship committee said it was just as well Hay had not requested a ruling. Under the Rules of Golf he was not entitled to a free drop. However, had he wished, he could have removed the bomb, since it was a man-made object that was not intended to be part of the hazard.
THE SOCCER EXCHANGE
During the first two weeks in July a rowdy chorus of Italian soccer fans milled outside Milan's posh Hotel Excelsior Gallia as, inside, the owners of the nation's soccer teams dealt for top players. In this annual July frenzy, one-third of the star performers are likely to change teams. Italian financiers, shipowners, auto manufacturers and oil executives, carried away by municipal pride, try fiercely to outbid each other. Sometimes the checks they pay with have as much bounce in them as a soccer ball, but by the end of the recent bartering session an estimated $8 million had been invested.