Jones Junior High is the best junior high in Toledo, as the old song says, and the Toledo Junior Blades are the best junior hockey team in the International Junior Hockey League. When regular-season play ended last week, the Junior Blades had a record of 24 wins, no losses and no ties, and they had scored 257 goals (the three other teams in the league combined scored only 285) to their opponents' 49. Toledo's average winning score was a walloping 11-2.
All of which, evidently, was extremely frustrating for Mike Mackintosh of third-place Dayton (eight wins, 15 losses, one tie). Although Toledo had six of the top 10 scorers, there was Dayton's Mackintosh in second place, and he was first in actually putting goals into the net (54 of his team's total of 94). Mike also led the league in penalty time, with 139 minutes in the 21 games he played. The top penalty total in the National Hockey League after more than 50 games this season was only 156 minutes, which means that on a percentage basis Mike Mackintosh is twice as mad as the maddest man in the NHL.
Sounds like a natural for the Boston Bruins, doesn't he?
TOO TRUE TO BE GOOD
We have been up to our ears in artificiality lately. We have had nylon-bubble field houses, AstroTurf and Tartan Turf fields, dyed golf traps and plastic weed beds. Now we have waterless boats. The hit of the London Boat Show this winter was a thing called the Power-Rider, built by Redifon Air Trainers, Ltd. It looks like a full-sized outboard motorboat, but it is actually a complex electronic toy controlled by a minisized analogue computer. It is a sort of super maritime version of those little mockup automobiles in amusement parks, the ones you have to steer over a filmed highway that comes at you on a movie screen. Instead of a highway, the Power-Rider faces a screen filled with a watery racecourse, complete with straightaways and curves and stretches of rough water. As you drive the course you get all the "big kick" sensation of powerboat racing—noise, speed, roll, pitch and planing or buffeting if the throttle is not reduced at the proper times. Throughout the ride you are serenaded by the sound of a 125-hp Mercury engine roaring out of two loudspeakers in the stern.
The ride, we are told, can be so rough that safety harnesses must be worn, and it is further reported that the experience is so true to life that some people get seasick. The Power-Rider apparently has achieved some sort of synthetic first: all the disabilities and none of the pleasures of boating.
During the tragically brief period of freedom in Czechoslovakia, Emil Zatopek, the remarkable distance runner who won four gold medals and a silver at the 1948 and 1952 Olympic Games (including a unique 5,000-10,000-marathon sweep in 1952), spoke out with startling candor about the restrictive conditions that had hitherto prevailed in his country (SCORECARD, July 29, 1968). When night fell again in Czechoslovakia in August, little or nothing was heard about Zatopek. But a recent copy of a Czech weekly magazine called the Reporter carried a letter from Ludek Pachman, a noted chess player and mathematician, protesting Zatopek's demotion from the defense ministry to a post as assistant coach of an army track team in Prague. Pachman wrote: "I think many people in this land will agree that such status for a man who belongs to the most famous figures of the last quarter of a century is our joint shame, and I do not intend to bear this shame without protest."
Long live Emil Zatopek. Long live Ludek Pachman.