Although essentially a four-year $450,000 proposal, the contract could have been worth $3.4 million over a 15-year period. But it was neither renegotiable nor guaranteed and it was hedged with 11 years of options. "Whatever your final decision," Dell advised Malone, "don't sign this contract."
Utah followed with a five-year $590,000 offer, and on Wednesday Malone was ready to sign. That night he asked Dell to formally represent him, and after two hours of bargaining the contract ballooned to $1.28 million—all guaranteed. It was the American dream realized and nobody could advise Malone to refuse it. Incentive clauses, covering his college education and playing accomplishments, could increase the package to $1.5 million.
"My hero is Spencer Haywood," Malone told Dell. "He became a pro after a year of college and I've always wanted to beat that record. When I was 14 I wrote his name down and put it in the Bible. I made a compact with God that I was going to do it."
HALL OF SHAME
From the beginning, Bud Foster of radio station KEST in San Francisco suspected that his baseball-trivia contest would degenerate into a beanball war. On one side were the Giant Executives, among them President Horace Stone-ham, Manager Wes Westrum and Assistant to the President Jerry Donovan, and on the other were the Hall of Famers, including Carl Hubbell, George (High-pockets) Kelly, former Umpire Babe Pinelli and Chub Feeney, president of the National League.
"You're giving them all the easy ones," a Hall of Famer protested. "You're poor losers." retorted an Exec. "I can't hear," said the 70-year-old Stoneham. Pandemonium broke loose when Foster accidentally tipped the Famers that it was Leftfielder Al Smith who was soaked by beer in the 1959 World Series. A shouting match developed over who composed lake Me Out to the Ball Game (it was Jack Norworth), a lawsuit was threatened, the Hall of Famers scored with the site of the original Mudville (they said it was Stockton, Calif.) but nobody could agree on who managed the first Giant team (it was Jim Mutrie).
For the record, Westrum correctly identified Clint Courtney as the first major league catcher to wear glasses behind the plate, the Execs and Famers wound up in an 18-18 tie and Hubbell, showing the best sense of all, walked out.
In the Asian Games that began this week at Teheran, there will be no marathon. "There is no call for it," said the organizing chairman. "Only a few Asians would take part, and we are not very good at it."
This should come as quite a surprise to the Japanese, who have been among the world's best marathoners for years. One can only guess that the Iranians (formerly Persians) are still smarting over the first Marathon, 2,500 years ago, the battle they lost to the Greeks. A chap named Philippides ran over 20 miles to Athens to tell the news, and dropped dead.