Squinting At The Stars Of Sport

"The Moon was rising in Aquarius when this fight got under way," he begins. "Showing an intense public catharsis as well, the Moon here signified the champion Louis [born with Cancer ascending, incidentally]. The immediately oncoming aspect was a Lunar trine with fifth-house Uranus which also ruled the ascendant. The 'return match' was aptly described by conjoining Mercury and Venus, both retrograde in the fifth house. Because Leo was setting, Walcott was signified by the Sun, also in the fifth and heavily afflicted by Saturn and Neptune. Saturn and Pluto in Leo suitably described the disgruntled Walcott, who claimed that the public, or masses, recognized him as the true titleholder, dubbing himself for publicity purposes as 'the People's Champ.' Walcott's 'game' is shown by the Sagittarian 11th house, occupied by retrograde Jupiter which was being squared by Mars. Every testimony in the chart spoke favorably for Louis. The fight ended suddenly (Moon trine Uranus, Uranus ruling ascendant and in fifth) in the 11th round by a knockout of Walcott. The 11th house in this chart brought the fight to a climax under the pivot of Mars-square-Jupiter in Louis' series, while the 11th sector around the wheel from the 7th in Walcott's series carried the fight to a rapid finish under the four fifth-house planets, which included Walcott's afflicted significator." End of report.

And all these years Walcott thought it was Louis who knocked him out.

Of course, not everyone would take the time to figure out a horary chart or get emotionally involved enough to make one work. There are even some people around who don't care about prizefights, never go to football games, could not care less if the Mets sink or swim and wouldn't recognize a horse unless it had four doors. Some fellows just like to go out and swing a golf club, enter competitions here and there, invest their winnings in a corporation or two. No sweat. Not much, anyway, especially if they happen to be born Sept. 10, 1929 at 5 a.m. in Latrobe, Pa.

An astrologer who looked at Arnold Palmer's natal horoscope rolled her eyes, clasped her hands and said, "Look at all those planets in Mr. Palmer's money house. No wonder money is tight everywhere else." Astroflash was more restrained. "With prudence you will never go wanting."

For those with only an old chipped fragment of a star or two in their money house, it will be comforting to know that Virgo Palmer would be a bust at the racetrack and a pigeon at the poker table.

"Virgo people," writes Linda Lung in the August 1969 issue of Astrology magazine, "do not like to gamble for money." In speculation they, along with Taurus and Capricorn types, "far exceed the other signs, but in gambling for money they are inclined to be sensitive, touchy and critical. On the whole, they are by far the poorest losers of all the signs." Arnie should care.

"It is best not to gamble at all until you hit a day when Venus is transiting over radical Jupiter with the Moon on an auspicious point in your birth chart," chimes in Mr. Bradley, who toys around with the races when nothing is happening in the ring.

Gardening and fishing are less chancy, and you can eat the returns. This is all spelled out in an annual publication called The Moon Sign Book, or in a shorter version called the Star Book Astrological Calendar, which allows you to take a quick daily peek to see if it's time to plant the tubers or if the trout will rise (fish have horoscopes?). Obviously, if an Aries (fire sign) fisherman gets out in the stream with a Pisces (water sign) trout, whammo! It's that old story of fire and water every time.

The Moon Sign people take all the guesswork out of what is going to happen to your tomatoes, provided you plant them with the help of lunar guidance. "Now, unlike common almanacs that are used as planting guides"—astrologers outdo politicians in trying to sabotage other astrologers—"we consider both the Moon's phase and the Moon's sign in making our calculations for the proper timing of our work within nature's rhythm," writes the author of an article on lunar agriculture. The rest is easy, if there's still time for gardening after the astrological facts have been assembled. All you have to do is remember to plant when the moon is in the first-quarter phase and in the sign of Cancer for fruitfulness. Each sign has its own characteristics, and once you sort out what phase the moon is in and which sign is transiting over your garden "you can combine the fruit-fulness of Cancer, the good root growth of Pisces, and the sturdiness and good vine growth of Scorpio." There is a Moon Sign Garden Contest every year to make things competitive, with the Moon Sign people eagerly awaiting photographs of your prize vegetables with enough details of what went on in which phase of the moon and sign of the zodiac to prove that you did your lunar homework. The winner in 1969 was an elderly gentleman from Santa Cruz, Calif. He is pictured squinting into the sun, clutching carrots that look like battering rams.

For those too lazy to work out their own charts, a day-by-day planting guide is provided. Instructions are succinct and precise: "Full moon in Leo—Feb. 2, 4:46 a.m.: gather mushrooms." On the other hand, you may just prefer to go to the supermarket. That way you can avoid a kitchen filled with mushrooms the size of umbrellas and won't get involved with what the Moon Sign book refers to as "related activities," which includes advice on cultivation, fertilizing, harvesting, irrigation and getting rid of weeds and pests. Nor do you have to ponder the wisdom of waiting until the moon is 24 hours past the time of full and in Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius or Pisces before you have the cat spayed, for if the moon is in Virgo, Libra or Scorpio "the animal will not thrive and may die." In the meantime, the cat is out on the back fence, and eventually you'll have a whole litter waiting around for the moon to move into the proper sign.