Happily, human beings can outthink crows, sometimes. Now, in Bombay, the customary practice is to hire an agaie wallah, or forecaddie. The agaie wallah gets far out on the edge of the fairway. When a ball lands he runs over and, fast as you can say "Caw!," covers it with a red cloth. The crows—not too bright when confronted with this maneuver—mutter a bit, wondering where their funny round eggs have gone, and the golfers carry on, serene and contented once again.
Poor Phil Bengtson. First he had to step into Vince Lombardi's cleats as coach of the Green Bay Packers. Then the Packers' age began to show and Bengtson had the unenviable job of trying to rebuild a dynasty that was washing away like a sand castle. This year the Packers limped home third in the NFL's Central Division, and Bengtson resigned himself to watching the playoffs on television. But even that didn't work out too well. On Christmas Eve, Bengtson was lifting a TV set—a Christmas gift for his wife—into the trunk of his car when he slipped on the snowy street and fell. The heavy set landed on top of him, and Bengtson was taken to the hospital with a broken hip.
HEAD ON HIS SHOULDERS
Last fall Ted Green, the bad-boy defenseman of the Boston Bruins, suffered a fractured skull when he was hit with a stick in a preseason game. The Bruins' chairman of the board, Weston Adams Sr., who was concerned for years with hockey injuries, ordered Bruin defensemen to wear helmets in practice and all players on Boston's Oklahoma City farm team to wear them in both practice and games. He also asked the NHL rules committee to consider making helmets obligatory for all players.
Oklahoma City complied with Adams' order, but the Bruins did not and the rules committee has done nothing about his proposal. The committee's inaction probably stems from the Bruins' refusal. Listen to Derek Sanderson, Boston center: "When they tried to force all defensemen to wear helmets, the guys walked out on them. They weren't going to take anything like that. If they pass a rule about it, I'd have to balk, too. I'm not going to wear a helmet." Why not? "They're uncomfortable, they'd probably provoke more stick fights than there are now and they can shatter when they're hit."
Whereas skulls can't?
An East Side Manhattan pub that features weekend football television brunches presented the Nebraska-Georgia Sun Bowl game to some 30 or 40 of its parishioners the Saturday before Christmas. After the half, with the score 18-0 Nebraska, the brunchers turned off the sound—but not the color—and listened to Mary Hopkin and Engelbert Humperdinck on the jukebox.
NO PLACE FOR A LADY
Shirley Englehorn, a 29-year-old lady professional golfer who has won $118,000 in her 10 years as a pro, tried last fall to enter the 1970 Los Angeles Open, the first tournament on the men's tour. But Joe Dey, head of the PGA's Tournament Players Division, rejected Shirley's bid, and that seemed to be that.
However, just before Christmas Miss Englehorn got a chance to display her golfing talents in a head-to-head match with Billy Casper, who has twice won the U.S. Open and who won almost as much money in 1969 as Miss Englehorn has in her career. The two played before a gallery of 3,500 at Los Coyotes Country Club in Orange County, south of Los Angeles. Four hours later the contest—though it was hardly that—was over. Casper had shot a 70, Miss Englehorn a 79.