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PEOPLE
June 21, 1971
The House of Representatives Purple Hurt and Armbuster Award for 1971 went to Rep. Dante Fascell (D., Fla.) for breaking an arm while playing paddleball—and then going on to break the pin they put in to hold the bone together. There was some grumbling about the decision, inasmuch as Fascell had been using a special aluminum paddle in the fateful game with Reps. Del Clawson (R., Calif.)', George Goodling (R., Pa.) and Tom Railsback (R., Ill.), all of whom played with the traditional heavy wooden jobs. To say nothing of the considered opinion of Rep. Olin (Tiger) Teague (D., Texas), who presented the award, that it really should have been for the loudest mouth. When the chips were down, though, the boys could not deny the trophy to a man who managed the second break while exercising the injured arm at—let's hear it for Dante Fascell—the luncheon table.
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June 21, 1971

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The House of Representatives Purple Hurt and Armbuster Award for 1971 went to Rep. Dante Fascell (D., Fla.) for breaking an arm while playing paddleball—and then going on to break the pin they put in to hold the bone together. There was some grumbling about the decision, inasmuch as Fascell had been using a special aluminum paddle in the fateful game with Reps. Del Clawson (R., Calif.)', George Goodling (R., Pa.) and Tom Railsback (R., Ill.), all of whom played with the traditional heavy wooden jobs. To say nothing of the considered opinion of Rep. Olin ( Tiger) Teague (D., Texas), who presented the award, that it really should have been for the loudest mouth. When the chips were down, though, the boys could not deny the trophy to a man who managed the second break while exercising the injured arm at—let's hear it for Dante Fascell—the luncheon table.

The stern hairless gentleman is that solid, familiar citizen, Frank Howard, now retired after 30 years as football coach at Clemson. As for the cuddly bushy guy below him, isn't that maybe Glen Campbell, the country-music star? Nope, it's our hero Howard again, who put the superwig on at an Atlantic Coast Conference sportswriters affair and properly stunned everybody. It does a lot for a man. "I am now so pretty," Howard allowed, "I might go back to college."

The current Clemson coach, meanwhile, has signed a 240-pound defensive tackle named Guy Lombardo. No, they do not claim he plays the sweetest game this side of heaven.

The International Labor Conference opened in Geneva amidst excited speculation as to how come Brazil was sending Edson Arantes do Nascimento, "better known," said a news agency report, "as Pel�." Was the star footballer "seeking to switch over to the less athletic calling of international conference delegate?" wondered the Tribune de Gen�ve. Was the Black Pearl going to address the ILO on the employment problems of professional athletes?

Sorry, international intrigue fans, fiction is stranger than truth. The gentleman was one Edson Arantes de, not do, Nascimento, a plain delegate. And for the Anti-Climax of the Week, he didn't even turn up for the kickoff of the conference.

So here is this private plane—parked on its own landing strip—and the owner is about to get aboard when up comes a cow. The cow gores 14 holes in the fuselage and right wing. Result: the plane is out of commission for 25 days. A sad story? Well, sure. The owner is El Cordob�s.

Meanwhile, in Scotland, Pilot Dave Berry is bringing in a Royal Navy Hunter Jet over the Moray Club links in Lossie-mouth when Martin Robertson skies his tee shot and sends a golf ball into the wing. A spokesman for the nearby airbase reported, "All our aircraft returned safely. It is understood one of their golf balls is missing."

Sporting Funeral of the Week—maybe even the Whole Year—was conducted by Britain's Society for the Preservation of Beers from the Wood. Not the entire society, understand, but a tight little group called the Plumpstead Branch, whose members gathered outside the Who'd a Thought It Tavern to mark the passing of real draught beer (in wooden kegs) and to protest its replacement by that awful stuff pumped out of the new aluminium kegs. Forty gallons of the good, old, real draught beer were consumed at the wake, and an old-fashioned keg was interred with simple dignity at Plumpstead Common. The grief of the society's members was profound, and it is a credit to their British reserve that not one of them flung himself into the grave with the dear departed. By the way, the dear departed was empty.

And why was Danny Roderick late for school? We thought you'd never ask. It seems the 16-year-old sophomore at Valley High in Bingham, Me. had a spat with his girl. Brooding, he decided to take a walk before classes. About a quarter-mile from the school Danny sat down under a tree to brood a little harder. He did hear kind of a funny noise behind him, but thought it was his girl trying to scare him, and naturally paid no attention. When the 8:20 warning bell rang he relented, though, and said, "Come on, I'll walk you back to school." He said it to what turned out to be a moose.

Danny spent an hour and a half up the tree, which is probably not as long as he spent behind the eight ball when his girl found out he'd mistaken a moose for her.

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