Maloy's indifference seems to have begun at Davidson, which made him its first black athlete. In his final year there he exerted only minimum effort in the classroom, and after signing with Pittsburgh his behavior became even more erratic. He once disappeared from campus, skipping the team's awards banquet, and for weeks no one knew where he was, not even his parents. This summer, with bonus money from his professional contract in his pocket, he went to parties and had a lot of fun but did not touch a basketball.
For his part Maloy says he wants to play but doesn't know just when he'll be ready. "I'll decide whether I've let anyone down after the season ends," he says. "I'll get in shape and do my job." And Marty Blake asks, "When?"
Florida had summer racing this year for the first time, and horsemen were nervous about it because of Florida's notorious summer heat. Customers can sit in shady grandstands or find air-conditioned refuges, but horses have to perform out in the broiling sun. Some horses suffer from anhydrosis, an ailment that prevents them from sweating. A horse unable to sweat when he works or races oh very hot days is liable to drop dead.
One owner-trainer, John Klein, found a magic elixir to combat the problem. His Leo The Greek, a 4-year-old that had finished first only once in 38 tries, began to sweat beautifully and won two straight races after Klein took to giving him daily slugs of Canadian Club spiked with aspirin. Klein later came down a peg to PM, a more modestly priced brand, but the results were still oh so happy. The tippling is halted two days before Leo The Greek runs because of rules on medication in horses actually in a race, but the glow apparently remains.
"Leo spit out the first mouthful I gave him," says Klein, "but then he got to love it. Now he waits for me every morning and, so help me, he winks at me when he sees me coming down the shed row."
Nick Buoniconti, the Miami Dolphin middle linebacker, feels that linebackers have gained an unfair "animal" image because of the supposed ferocity of their play. Buoniconti says the animal reputation comes from a variety of things, including colorful reporting. Mostly, however, it's because "the middle linebacker is like a catcher in baseball. He's in the middle of everything, and he has a tendency to be in on more tackles. Because he is isolated, the tackle that a middle linebacker makes often looks spectacular compared to one made by a defensive lineman. Because of his position, he makes tackles that make him look like he's demolishing somebody, and that leads people to think he's a madman."
Steve Fellos of Charlotte, N.C. is no threat to Jack Nicklaus and Billy Casper as a tournament golfer—his scores generally run in the 80s—but when it comes to hole-in-one contests Fellos leaves Nicklaus, Casper and everybody else far behind. He first won a hole-in-one competition in 1958 when he aced a 140-yarder. A year later he astonished his North Carolina neighbors by successfully defending his title with another hole in one. He sort of idled along for a few years after that until, as something of a celebrity, he was invited to hit the first ball at another contest. He missed with that first shot, took another—and dropped it into the cup. He turned to the stunned officials and asked them if they wanted him to hit any more. They mumbled yes, and he went back to work. He missed twice and then sank another ace, his second in four tries. He hit 11 more balls and left one of them an inch and a half from the cup.
A year ago Fellos finished second in one contest (four inches away) and third in another (five inches). This summer he won his fourth tournament—with another hole in one—and his fifth, though he won that with a miserable shot six full inches away from the hole. In 1969 he had his only ace in an actual round of golf, on a 152-yard par-3, but a month later he sank an eight-iron approach from 125 yards for an eagle 2 and the next day holed out a 110-yard wedge for another eagle 2.