Back at the wheel these days is former driving champ Stirling Moss, now 42, whose driver's license was revoked by British authorities for six months after three violations. It was restored three days after Christmas. During the penalty period Moss had taken to pedaling a bicycle and, while abroad, using his International Driving Permit, "it's good to be mobile again," said the beaming Moss, who celebrated by buying a $5,148 BMW touring car, a three-in-one estate job with saloon comfort and near-sports performance. It sure beats pedaling.
Since 1968, when the A's moved from Kansas City to Oakland, President Charlie Finley has juggled his broadcasting lineups almost as often as his pitching batteries. First there were Monte Moore and Al Heifer. Heifer lasted two seasons, giving way to Harry Caray in 1970. Caray departed in 1971, to be replaced by Wresley (Red) Rush and Bob Elson. Now Moore is alone again, awaiting the next summer replacement in Finley's version of Try and Stop Me.
Actor Peter Graves, who seldom slips up while leading his undercover band on TV's Mission: Impossible, didn't fare as well the other day in Texas. Serving as commentator of the Cotton Bowl parade in Dallas, Graves listened as a high school band marched by playing The Eyes of Texas, then promptly identified the tune as I've Been Working on the Railroad. Another gaffe like that, Pete, and you'll self-destruct in five seconds.
There must be something about the Cotton Bowl that puts boll weevils in the mouth. Governor Preston Smith, who two years ago enlivened the introductions at a pregame event by pronouncing Ara Parseghian's name like the Italian cheese—"Parmesan"—and placing Notre Dame in Illinois instead of Indiana, has done it again. This year he introduced visiting Penn State as " Pennsylvania U," prompting Coach Joe Paterno to quip, "I once told my wife that if I ever needed a brain transplant, I'd like to get the brain of a politician, since it would be best to have an unused organ."
Former light-heavyweight boxer Joe Brown (1929-30) took a job as boxing coach at Princeton in 1937, and he has been at the university ever since, though not in the gym. Brown carved his way into a sculptor's atelier some years ago, is now engaged in creating four 15-foot athletic statues that will stand without pedestals at four of the approaches to Philadelphia's new stadium. How did an expert fighter become a respected sculptor? Says Joe: "My father once told me, 'I'd rather have you be a sculptor than a bum.' "
If you're thinking of cooking up a little school demonstration, stay out of Brooklyn. The Board of Education there has hired Fred Quinones, the former All-Navy and Golden Gloves light-and welterweight boxing champion, as a special patrolman. If Fred can't handle it, they might bring in his wife Theresa, a champion javelin thrower, hurdler and bowler.
World Cup ski champion Gustav Th�ni, 1968 Olympic gold medalist luger Erika Leichner and the other Italian competitors at Sapporo next month will hardly be wanting for touches of home. The Italian Olympic Committee plans to ship over 660 pounds of Mediterranean-grown rice, 600 pounds of pasta, 30 pounds of olive oil and 80 pounds of coffee. Now that's amore.
Miami Running Backs Larry Csonka and Jim Kiick, who have been getting a lot of mileage all season from their Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid routines, finally slowed down long enough to have some pictures taken. If the gunslingers from Dallas are impressed, it's probably worth all the trouble.
J. Austin Vincent of Toledo, whose hobby is decorating glass, has outdone himself with a carving of Olympic scenes on a crystal bowl. He has shown it to International Olympic Committee President Avery Brundage, who promised to put the bowl on display at a museum being planned at the site of the first Olympiad in Greece. The central carving: "The Sacred Games of Zeus," around which Vincent has arranged a selection of Olympic athletes. He has included no Nordic or Alpine skiers, we trust.
Everybody knows about the Lakers and their now-broken string, but how about the boys at Friendsville Academy in Tennessee? In its five years under the guidance of basketball Coach Joe Fink and his predecessors, the team has dropped 102 consecutive contests. "We've tried several things to keep the kids' morale up," says Fink. "We've got the best uniforms money can buy, our gym is everything you could expect...we warm up with a colored basketball." Sometimes he even invites the entire eight-man team to his house for a pregame dinner. One thing he doesn't do is let his cagers watch the girls' team play. The girls, it turns out, get beat as bad as the boys, "it tends to be demoralizing," explains Coach Fink.