Princess Irene of Greece has just made her American debut as a concert pianist with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra, playing the Bach Concerto in C Major. Her reviews were excellent, and one trusts that the princess feels repaid for the sacrifice of an old hobby. She gave it up because, as she explains, "I can't afford to ruin my hands now." The hobby: demolishing bricks with karate chops.
The real this-is-it list of the 10 best-dressed women is always compiled by one Eleanor Lambert, a fashion publicist, and this year for the first time she has got up a no-kidding men's list as well. It names Prince Philip; Bill Blass; Patrick, Earl of Lichfield; George Hamilton; Baron Alexis de Rede; Cecil Beaton; Jean-Claude Killy; Bernard Lanvin; Hubert de Givenchy; Count Rodolfo Crespi and George D. Widener. The latter is identified as "an elderly Philadelphia sports figure." The EPSF acknowledged his inclusion in this list with traditional Philadelphian bluntness. "How ridiculous," he said.
Former Vice-President Hubert Humphrey disclosed at a recent luncheon in New York that he had always played his brand of golf (terrible, by his own admission) in sneakers. One day former Governor Thomas E. Dewey, shocked into remonstrance by the sight of the plebeian Humphrey footwear, told the then vice-president that no official in his position should be seen fitted out in such a fashion on the golf course. Humphrey told Dewey that golf shoes for a game like his would be an extravagance and a waste. Dewey told Humphrey that he was the only Democrat of his acquaintance capable of using such words. Dewey subsequently went out and bought him a pair of golf shoes. Humphrey concluded by reporting that he plays in the shoes to this very day, and that they are still "the only Republican contribution I can think of which makes me feel comfortable."
Randy Matson has entered the professional world, turning down offers from one football team and two basketball teams to join the brokerage firm of Paine, Webber, Jackson and Curtis. He would have fitted in better in any of the first three spots than he does in the fourth. Randy, 6'6�", says mournfully of his new job, "My knees keep hitting the desk."
Suggestions have been pouring in to Pennsylvania's Governor Shafer as to what to do with the live buffalo he won from Kansas Governor Docking in an Orange Bowl bet. It was proposed, for example, that Shafer present it to the bride of one of his cabinet members as a wedding present. This idea was discarded when Pennsylvania State Senator John T. Van Sant observed, "Show me a home where the buffalo roam, and I'll show you a dirty house."
Still-artful Dodger Pee Wee Reese, waiting on tables at a cystic fibrosis dinner party in Louisville, served 12 people and said with satisfaction, "I didn't boot a one." Reese flawlessly handled a number of chances with plates, cups, saucers and cocktail glasses but admits that, overconfident, he nearly got tagged by a swinging door. "Since we were not accomplished waiters, the dishes were placed on the trays and we were told to back out the door. I went sideways once and almost got caught."
Announcement has just been made of the 1968 Peanut Butter All-Professional Football Team. Members and their preferred peanut-butter dishes are as follows: quarterback, Greg Landry, pb with jelly or marsh-mallows; back, Oscar Reed, pb with jam or lunch meat; back, Mike McGill, pb with veal cutlet or stuffed cabbage; back, Mike Freeman, pb with jam and butter; end, Bill Staley, pb with grape jelly; end, Claude Humphrey, pb with sliced pineapple; guard, George Daney, pb with mashed potatoes or fried mushrooms; guard, John Williams, pb with lunch meat; center, Forrest Blue, pb with strawberry preserves, cucumber pickles or corn chips; tackle, Ron Yary, pb with jam on toast and tackle Dennis Byrd. Dennis Byrd takes his pb straight.
During a press conference in Miami Beach, Coach Weeb Ewbank was discussing the way fans will always call for backup quarterbacks during moments of crisis and after the game not even remember their names. "For instance," Ewbank demanded, "who can remember the fellow who played behind Otto Graham?" A tall, blond man raised his hand. "I can," he said modestly. It was George Ratterman, the fellow who played behind Otto Graham.
A standout in one respect among the kids at a children's fishing pond at the San Francisco Sports & Boat Show, Rick Barry was certainly a washout in another. An attendant handed him a worm to bait his hook. Barry backed off. "Aaagh," he said. "You put it on. I can't stand 'em."