TURN 'EM LOOSE
The Big Ten rule that will doubtless keep the nation's best football team from playing in a bowl game obviously is absurd. But so is the whole system of bowl-conference alignments that almost always prevents the best teams in the country from meeting in postseason showdowns. To have such unbeaten powers as Ohio State and Texas glaring at each other at the top of the heap and not to match them is to stand in the way of nature. The NCAA should reorganize the whole bowl system so that it will determine the nation's No. 1 team before any more dream games slip away.
DAVY JONES' CODFISH
Whatever became of the Andrea Doria? She is now hostess to 60-pound codfish. Anglers aboard Captain Les Behan's Peconic Queen II took a 100-mile jaunt recently from Montauk, Long Island to the site of the 29,000-ton liner's famous sinking in 1956. The seas were so rough the Queen's anchor broke loose while two teams of skin divers were working their way down the anchor line in hopes of photographing the wreckage—so the divers had to turn and inch back up the line as the ship drifted. But the fishing was extremely good while the anchor held, with 30- to 35-pound pollack being brought up from 230 feet of water, in addition to the monstrous cod.
Occasionally denunciations of landscape littering end on a whimsical note. Like, if we don't watch out we may fill the Grand Canyon with beer cans. It doesn't sound funny to the Navajos. They own some beautiful real estate along the Canyon. On their awesomely empty desert landscape, a popcorn box stands out like General Custer.
Other Western tribes have taken stern steps to keep returnable tourists from leaving behind nonreturnable trash. The Lummi and Quinault Indians of Washington state have closed thousands of acres of reservation land, including one of the richest duck and goose hunting areas in the Puget Sound area, and 50 miles of Pacific beaches to all non-Indians. The "white-eye" visitors have been strewing beer cans and other refuse, decorating rocks with spray paint, destroying clam beds by racing cars on the sand flats, and sometimes even ordering outraged red men off their own beaches. Taos Pueblo has not declared its reservation off limits yet, but does periodically post a ban against littering, signed by the tribe's "War Chief." It's an ancient title that never got changed, but it has a ring of authority.
The Navajos are still using a less militant approach. They are trying to create respect for their vast New Mexico reservation (as large as the state of West Virginia) with their own museums and park rangers. And now their Plateau Sciences Society is raising money for a museum on wheels to spread the word.
Anyone (Indian or paleface) who donates a dollar to the museumobile fund at Window Rock, Ariz. will receive a bumper sticker that says: Ts'iilz�� Doo'da! That is Navajo for "Don't Litter!" Not only does it have a nice lilt, it has received the all-important negative imprimatur of the Chicago police. According to a story now going the Navajo rounds, a Windy City cop recently stopped a young bearded non-Indian whose bumper wore the new sticker. The officer was inclined to believe the slogan was some kind of secret hippie code signal.
Never mind that business about their spaceships—look at what's happening in Soviet science back on earth, the village of Zalesny, to be exact. There is Y. Valentinov, who teaches at the local aviation institute, flying his scale-model, radio-powered hydroplane for a new world record. It covered 19.4 kilometers, taking off from a small lake and landing in the Volga 30 minutes, 20 seconds later, says Novosti, the Russian news agency. And not only that, Lithuanian Pyatras Moteikaitis has set another world record, his 10th, with a model helicopter, winding it up to a speed of 93.898 kilometers per hour. He did it all with a rubber band which, as we always say about these press releases, is really stretching it.
On a recent Thursday night Mr. and Mrs. Paul Cilek of Iowa City, Iowa watched their 13-year-old son Dan, a quarterback, lead Central Junior High's seventh-grade team to victory. On Friday night they saw their 16-year-old son Nick, also a quarterback, pace University High to a win, and on Saturday morning they got out to see 14-year-old Greg—yes, a quarterback—play a key role as Central's ninth-grade team won.