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PEOPLE
June 11, 1973
The only handicap endured by Jeff Beard, longtime athletics administrator at Auburn University, is his golf game itself. After his second round in the Southeastern Conference spring seminar and social. Beard, usually a calm man, heatedly declared he was selling his clubs and giving up the sport. "Why not?" he challenged. "Not long ago Charley Boswell beat me. He's blind. Then John Reed Holly beat me. He's the business manager at Mississippi and he has just his right arm. We even call him 'Single Wing.' Today, Harry Lancaster, the Kentucky athletic director, beat me. He has one wooden leg. I do not know what further indignities could befall me on the golf course, but I choose to provide no further opportunity."
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June 11, 1973

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The only handicap endured by Jeff Beard, longtime athletics administrator at Auburn University, is his golf game itself. After his second round in the Southeastern Conference spring seminar and social. Beard, usually a calm man, heatedly declared he was selling his clubs and giving up the sport. "Why not?" he challenged. "Not long ago Charley Boswell beat me. He's blind. Then John Reed Holly beat me. He's the business manager at Mississippi and he has just his right arm. We even call him 'Single Wing.' Today, Harry Lancaster, the Kentucky athletic director, beat me. He has one wooden leg. I do not know what further indignities could befall me on the golf course, but I choose to provide no further opportunity."

After Tom Bradley, born the son of a sharecropper on a Texas cotton plantation, was elected the first black mayor of Los Angeles, capping a long upward rise which he began as a 21-year career policeman studying law at night, political consultant David Garth had a metaphoric explanation. Garth suggested that observers look at Bradley's athletic background as a key to his personal drive. (The new mayor-elect went to UCLA on a track scholarship and became an accomplished quarter-miler.) "The 440 is the only race where you can't pace yourself," Garth noted. "The last 100 yards of the 440 are the worst suffering any track man has to go through."

The women of The Women—a Clare Boothe Luce play currently revived on Broadway—challenged the men of The Changing Room, the sporty David Storey play about an English rugby team (SI, March 5) to a softball I match. The Women trounced the Room mates 85-3, or something like that, and the first inning was typical. Alexis Smith led off with an infield grounder to pitcher John Lithgow, who bobbled the ball. Dorothy Loudon's following smash barely to second was I held too long and both runners I were safe. Marie Wallace flied to the shortstop—who dropped the ball. Cindy Lister drove in two runs with an infield single. Kim Hunter ended up on third when The Changing Room cast over threw two bases on one play, and swinging 67-year-old Myrna Loy (pictured) added three more runs with yet another infield single. "They were great competitors—speedy, very fast and above all swift," captain Lithgow said. "These guys let the women win," Dorothy Loudon rejoined, "but I loved it."

Bob Arnzen, an almost never used forward with the Indiana Pacers, finally started the next to last regular-season game against San Diego—and scored 24 points. Arnzen thought about this performance for a few days, then decided it would affect his demands for 1973-74. "Next year," he said, "I want a no-cut, no-play contract."

In two years on the women's professional golf tour, Diane Patterson has made $384.59. So far this year, in six tournaments, she hasn't cashed a check. She might start reading the want ads again. The last time she did she ended up on a trapeze. The ad in The Los Angeles Times read: "Girl wanted, 18-25, athletically inclined, for trapeze act, free room and board." Said Diane, "Why not?" and faster than she could say oops she was a catcher grabbing the Flying Viennas as they spun out of their acts. "Once in a while I'd miss," Miss Patterson notes, "but that made it more exciting." For her. Diane quit when "I decided it was easier to swing on the ground than in the air."

With Congress scheduled to debate the wisdom of replacing the present system of inches, feet and miles, the Cincinnati Reds decided to become a liter on the field by painting metric equivalents on the outfield fence. Here Paul Popovich (left) and Rick Monday of the Chicago Cubs converge on a pop fly that did not exactly drive them back to the warning track near the good ol' 123.13-meter mark, nor ring the applause meter with the fans.

A staple of modern American folklore concerns the bonus baby who signs a big contract and immediately buys a lavender Cadillac. The breed does not include lowkey, practical Jerry Sisemore, the University of Texas All-America tackle and first-round draft choice who recently came to terms with the Philadelphia Eagles. Sisemore celebrated by investing in a used pickup truck. The situation with Indiana Pacer George McGinnis was somewhat different. McGinnis already commanded two Cadillacs and a Jaguar, not to mention a camper truck, a motor home that sleeps six, five horses and a speedboat. So Big George was named the Most Valuable Player in the ABA championships. His reward? Right. A Dodge Charger.

The St. Louis Cardinals of the National Football League have just named a new controller. His name is Jim Cash.

There were some interesting results in one of those charity decathlons that match pro athletes from various sports. In an event held for the March of Dimes, 49er Quarterback John Brodie finished seventh overall, but only fourth in the football throw, which was won by Oakland Raider Wide Receiver Fred Biletnikoff. Rick Barry, who won the whole thing, reached 287.8 feet in softball hitting, while former Catcher Tom Haller, who finished 11th, could only manage 200 feet.

The NAIA Track and Field Hall of Fame has inducted a new member. He's the track coach at University of Redlands, Calif. and his name is Ted Runner.

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