"It's his attitude," said Hank Stram, watching Arthur Ashe beat Clark Graebner in a tournament in Overland Park, Kans. "It's what I try to tell my players over and over, and Ashe proved it again. What's an attitude? It's the key to winning." And what's the word for Ashe's attitude? Cool, man. Before the match he was called over to meet Stram and Kansas' Governor Robert Docking, and when the latter asked him, "When are you going to get started?" Ashe replied, "We'll start, Governor, as soon as you can go out there and get introduced."
Charlie Manuel of the Minnesota Twins was a winner early this month at Pimlico, but he has teammate Bob Allison to thank. Manuel bought an Exacta ticket, thinking the fifth race was the Exacta race. It was the sixth. "I was disgusted," said Manuel. "I had the 5-3 and the 3-5 horses and they just didn't figure to win the sixth. So, I tore up the tickets." Allison, however, advocated a "wait and see" policy. They retrieved the scraps from an ashtray, taped them together and were assured by the track management that the tickets were still valid. Sure enough, the 5-3 combination came in, and Manuel's take—which he certainly ought to share—was $1,165.
Youthful unrest has been taking a rather quixotic form in Belgium where, to protest educational policy, students recently kidnapped weight lifter Serge Reding and held him hostage for 24 hours in an unheated medieval castle. Reding, 275 pounds, and a silver-medal winner at the Mexico City Olympics, was dawdling along a deserted street in a quiet Brussels suburb when he found himself surrounded by 15 students and pushed into a waiting autmobile. He was whisked away to the castle, in Gaasbeek, where he was held until authorities promised to consider the students' demands. Reding took it all fairly stolidly, but officials of the Belgian Weight Lifting Federation were frantic. They interceded with the authorities to hasten his release, and while awaiting it were only slightly calmed to hear him shout down from the archers' walkway of the castle tower, "So far I have had enough to cat!" Once out. Reding said to the press, "I would have much preferred to spend the night in my bed. I agree with their claims, but I should not be mixed up in the business."
"As a young man," recalls Sir Julian Huxley, "I was thoroughly bitten by the excitement of mountaineering—the pitting of one's human self against inhuman nature." Inhuman nature did not take the form of mountains at Oxford in 1909, so, in his recently published autobiography, the 83-year-old biologist explains that he climbed buildings instead, "without ropes, in darkness and silence, for fear of the college authorities or the police. There was a particularly nasty bit at the back of Balliol Hall, where one had to put one's leg round a corner, trusting that the foot would encounter a projecting waterspout.... There was a splendid climb to the north face of Trinity clock. This started alongside the Balliol science lab, where I had to grip the coping stones.... On one occasion the stone I was pulling on started to give way: luckily, I was able to throw myself forward into position." Sir Julian's last climb was shortly before his final exams. "I just managed to get up the sham Tudor building and had a splendid and triumphal view of all Oxford, with its spires and domes and quadrangles gleaming in the clear light of a June dawn."
"We can't go on meeting like this," Senator George Murphy might reasonably be murmuring to his son Dennis—Murphy p�re had just arrived by helicopter at a point 9,500 feet up in California's Mineral King Valley, while Murphy fils had spent almost seven hours struggling up from the town of Three Rivers, 25 miles away. The development of Mineral King by Disney Productions as a recreational area has been blocked by a suit brought against the Forest Service and the Departments of Agriculture and the Interior by the Sierra Club. The Senator had come to look over the situation. "I hadn't seen Dad in about a month, so when I heard he was coming here I figured I'd hike in to meet him," Dennis said.
The incumbent James Bond, George Lazenby, has been romping about the West Indies—a Bondishly casual way to prepare for a squash match against world champion professional Jonah Barrington. Barrington, a 28-year-old Londoner, is known as The Monk of the West End, having given up cigarettes, alcohol and girl friends for what must have been five rather long years. Now, with a match against a James Bond coming up, The Monk has apparently decided that an entirely different kind of training may be called for. "I'm trying to find out if I can successfully combine my squash playing with a social life," he says cautiously. "I am experimenting with a very good friend."