- TOP PLAYERSOffensePABLO S. TORRE | August 20, 2012
- TAMPA BAY buccaneersENEMY lines WHAT A RIVAL COACH SAYSJune 28, 2012
- Faces in the CrowdJune 11, 2001
Ranking way down there with the Frito Bandito and Little Black Sambo was the Stanford Indian, according to critics, Associate Dean Douglas Davis in particular. So when Athletic Director Chuck Taylor and Coach John Ralston agreed—as did the Indian students on campus—Stanford decided to move forward by going back to its 1930 emblem. This one shows a Plains Indian reminiscent of the gentleman who used to grace the penny, a nobler Red Man by far than the cartoon. Nice gesture. But no guarantee that it will help Stanford get to the Rose Bowl.
Also engaged in correcting the Indian image is Jim Thorpe's son Jack, who was not happy about Burt Lancaster's portrayal of his dad in that 1951 movie. Jim was played as "a young man, already sad, and drinking a lot. But he was a real warmhearted person—and a practical joker," his son says. Young Thorpe has formed a group of Indian dancers to perform at schools and clubs and he gives a brief talk. "Indians have a great sense of humor," Thorpe observes, "and I don't think they're much different from anybody else."
—AND INDIANS OUT
Cigarettes in his belt, like any good old country boy, and strummin' on his nine-iron was country music singer Jerry Reed with Mr. Guitar himself, Chet Atkins. What were they up to? Well, breakin' ground at Crockett Springs National Golf and Country Club, a superchampionship layout being designed by Touring Pro Bruce Devlin and Architect Bob Von Hagge. Included among the country-western performers (most of whom are golf fanatics) helping finance the project are such noteworthy backers as Glen Campbell, Bobby Goldsboro, Floyd Cramer and Archie Campbell. And where is Crockett Springs? Just down the road a piece from Nashville. Where else?
Clown is a revealing biography of Hot Rod Hundley, the former basketball star who, as a blurb for the book succinctly puts it, "finally got the ax for his extracurricular activities." To this his wife, Flo, has added: "If all Rod's girl friends buy the book, we'll get rich." Also his bartenders. With Hundley's reputation as a man-about-towns well established, his listing of the bars and nightclubs he most enjoys merits some attention. As a people-to-people service, here are some of Hundley's recommended hangouts. ATLANTA: Sans Souci, Windjammer. BALTIMORE: Sweeney's, The Wishing Well. BOSTON: The Point After. DETROIT: Lindell AC. CHICAGO: Store Annex Lounge, Butch McGuire's Tavern. LOS ANGELES: La Marina, King's X. MILWAUKEE: Crazy Horse, Victor's. NEW YORK: Jilly's, Mister Laffs. PHILADELPHIA: The Two-Four Club. SAN DIEGO: Bulley's (in La Jolla), The Village Inn. SAN FRANCISCO: Ricksha Cocktail Lounge. End of book review.
Political Double Fault of The Week:
Some of the mail-order requests for seats at the Pacific-Southwest tennis tournament in Los Angeles were answered with a little extra touch. In addition to the tickets, the replies included a separate message entitled: " George Murphy, Friend of Tennis." The message went on to describe the California Senator's really keen interest in tennis and other sports and concluded with the hope that he will find "expressions of thanks for it." Golly, yes. How about, "Well, I'm voting for the other fella, Senator. But thanks for being a friend of tennis."
Singer Joey Heatherton has confided that she and husband Lance Rentzel have been abiding by the Dallas Cowboys' training rules. "He and all the other boys have to be tucked into their little beds early," she says prettily, "and what can a wife do?" Not a whole lot, actually, when a wife is performing at the Plaza Hotel in New York City and the husband's little bed is in Dallas.
"It is the mentality of the person I can't understand," says former Grand Prix Driver Innes Ireland, speaking of England's phantom sniper of the M (for motorway) 4. The sniper got him in the windscreen, adding Ireland's Mercedes 280 SE to a list of some 50 cars and buses winged with an air rifle. As Ireland said, indignantly, "It's so incredibly dangerous—it just wants somebody to lose control when a windscreen breaks." When he'd simmered down, ex-racer Ireland allowed as how "I'm not doing very much at the moment. I'm sort of thinking of various things." Like going back to the relative calm of Brands Hatch or Watkins Glen, where at least they don't shoot at the drivers with air rifles?