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Henry Dyer, a reserve running back for the Rams, is in a little trouble with the National Guard. Assigned to guard duty, Dyer showed up on time all right—with a sleeping bag.
Senator Stuart Symington (D., Mo.) was happy about one thing after the Democrats had lost the eighth annual congressional baseball game to the Republicans by a score of 6-2—thanks in large part to the pitching of Vinegar Bend Mizell, late of the National League and currently a Republican Congressman from North Carolina. Symington had asked the Cards for a uniform, and they had sent him Stan Musial's No. 6. "I just asked the Cardinals to lend me a uniform," the Senator said, stunned. "I would as soon have asked for the Hope diamond to wear on an evening outing as ask for Musial's uniform." Later Symington spoke of the actual defeat from the floor of the Senate, winding up his observations with, "I would like to close with three bits of advice to future Democratic batsmen, inasmuch as through trades and drafts we may lose a few. First, on the fastball I suggest that if you hear the ball hit the glove, it is probably fruitless to swing. Second, in handling the curve do not be alarmed by the noise. It is the normal sound of the landing gear falling into place. Finally, if you have been standing there for 60 seconds and you have not noticed anything, perhaps you should walk with dignity back to the dugout. You are out."
Vladimir Horowitz turns out to be a 100% true-blue with-it Cardinal fan, to the surprise of a number of people, including the Cardinals. Horowitz got to meet his heroes before a recent Mets game and was photographed with Lou Brock. He proved to be up on the name of Brock's daughter and Curt Flood's portrait painting. He matched grips with Ron Swoboda, autographed a toy piano for Gil Hodges and accepted an autographed ball which he said he would keep beside Bob Gibson's autobiography From Ghetto to Glory, which adorns his coffee table. "I remember going to some kind of concert once," Gibson told Horowitz. "The man next to me was snoring and I laughed at him, but 10 minutes later I was asleep, too."
For some reason when American athletes hit London they go trad, not mod. Now it's Arthur Ashe and Stan Smith all derbied and brollied up, looking every inch the insurance executives they have become since the establishment (with Charlie Pasarell and Bob Lutz) of First Service Insurance Agency, Inc. First Service is the newest subsidiary of the Fidelity Corporation, based in Richmond, Va., and it will really get going after Wimbledon when the lads put away their rackets for awhile and buckle down to selling life insurance. The new business venture is one reason Ashe was in a position to turn down a $500,000 pro tennis contract. "I value freedom more than money," he says, "and this gives me a chance to retain that freedom."
Country and Western singer Charley Pride played minor league ball before his singing career really jelled, and he still thinks with longing of the majors. "Someday I hope to buy, or help buy, a professional baseball team," Charley says. "That way I know I will make the major leagues, even if I just play one day." The question is, would that be doing it the easy way or the hard way?
Mickey Wright and Shirley Englehorn were the third and fourth leading money-winners on the LPGA tour some weeks ago. Now Shirley is still fourth but Mickey has dropped to sixth, possibly as a result of a recent set-to with Demon Tobacco. The girls bet each other $1,000 that neither would smoke a cigarette until September. From the word go (or from the word stop) Mickey was having the tougher time. "Mickey told me she was a nervous wreck on the drive here," said Cuzzy Mingolla, co-owner of the Pleasant Valley Country Club in Sutton, Mass. "She locked herself in her motel room for two days, didn't want to talk to anybody. She was really shaken up." A few days later Mickey lit a cigarette—and wrote out a check for $1,000. "I lasted eight days," she said, "but it was killing me. It seemed more like eight months. I feel a lot less nervous now." So does Shirley Engle-horn. "I'm happier, even if I'm not healthier," she said, puffing away. Happier Shirley may be, unhealthier she may be, richer she is not. She accepted Mickey's check and tore it up.
Things may not be going too well for a current ex-quarterback, but they are still O.K. for his namesake, Broadway Joe the horse. Broadway Joe the horse is a three-month-old colt, by Frank and Mary Chapot's Good Twist out of Tomboy, the show-jumping champions. He has been notable from birth for his fondness for young ladies and for being scratched on the rump.