Last week Ted Nash leaped into the chilly Schuylkill River when he saw a man jump off the Market Street bridge. Nash went under at least 25 times, searching unsuccessfully for the man. Six hours later he still had not bothered to phone his wife about the incident. He wanted to speak only of a brave helicopter pilot, Paul Zill, who maneuvered his craft low between two bridges to check on Nash's own safety. "You must remember," Nash said, "it was "a failure. I didn't find the man. It was a total failure."
Did he think of his wife and two young boys when he was diving down one more time? "What if I were one of those terribly unfortunate people who didn't help?" Ted Nash said. "What would my family think of me then?"
ANY CAGE IN A STORM
The strait between Townsville and Magnetic Island in north Queensland, Australia is 5� miles across and populatedby a quorum of marine menaces: sea stingers, stonefish, sea wasps, sea lice, sea snakes, giant devil rays and at least 30 kinds of shark. To further complicate matters, the strait is swept by southeast trade winds, by two major crosscurrents, by cyclones and, since 1924, by humans swimming across it in protective cages. Obviously, these cages may be called strait jackets.
The first one was a crude wire-and-wood affair. The cages now are constructed of such items as steel and poly-urethane foam, but the sea lice still get through to sting the swimmer, who also is likely to suffer lacerations while thrashing about in the enclosure. Most of the cages are only about 2� body lengths long. It is all a rather chilling medieval scene, smacking of the treadmill. Not only does the poor swimmer always appear to reach out in vain for the front of his cage, but the coach, who rides along, invariably lies to his charge. "You. bull 'em a bit, like say there's only one mile to go when there's two," one cheerful mentor reports. "Otherwise, they'd never make it."
Nevertheless, there is no dearth of swimmers vying to be chosen for the six official cages that are allotted each May for what has become the annual race. This year one of the contestants chosen was a 14-year-old girl, Jocelyn Glen, and she set a new women's record at 2.09:03, but the overall winner was Rodney McLeod, who upset favored John Koorey. If Koorey had won the swim he had planned to go on next to the English Channel. Without the cage and sea visitors, that would seem like an amiable skinny dip by comparison.
AAU President David Matlin has confirmed the amazing report that the executive board will meet on July 27 to act on a resolution that the national headquarters be moved from New York City to, of all places, Las Vegas. The early line is 1 to 5 that the AAU will move, 7 to 2 that blackjack will not be named a sanctioned sport and 6 to 5 and pick 'em that nobody can possibly remain an amateur in Las Vegas.
In picking Proper Proof to win the California Derby, The Moth told readers of his racing selections: "Proper Proof is a colt that interests both The Moth and Jim Garrison, so—put down your peace feeler and get to the track." As the only tout on a college newspaper, The Moth picks 'em for The Daily Californian at Berkeley. "The Moth," he writes for his audience in self-deprecation, "combines the credibility of L.B.J., the sagacity of General Hershey and the veracity of Chancellor Heyns." However much his fans care for his picks, they tab his column in clever hands, blinders off. Who is this masked moth?
Beneath the black beard and mustache, The Moth is revealed as a nearsighted law student named Les Harrison. Once, in dim light, he saw a huge moth on his wall and began swatting it. It was not a moth but a hole in the wall. But from the melee a new Moth was created. A poverty worker with Vista last summer and a good student who "handicaps my professors," The Moth mixes strong political and equine opinions.