"Captain, we're starting this game," he said sharply, then ran off the field and threw his right arm into the air to signal the referee. It was only then that he heard The Star-Spangled Banner.
THE BIG GO BY
One trouble New Orleans' Superdome has not had is with the wind. Hurricane Carmen breezed close to town, but no special precautions were taken other than to secure loose material outside the stadium. The structure was shaped with hurricane-force winds in mind and model-tested in a wind tunnel. The main concern of its backers is not that the dome will blow its top but whether they ever will get anybody under it.
The flip, at least temporarily, is a flop. At its recent meeting during the European track and field championships in Rome, the International Amateur Athletic Federation banned the somersault style of long jumping (SI, July 29). Too dangerous, the feds said.
One person who is not hopping to the same tune is Igor Ter-Ovanesyan, now the Soviet coach who gained fame as one of the best of the straight jumpers. "All the jumping events are getting to be more acrobatic," he said at Rome. "Of course the flip is kind of dangerous, but if you're afraid, don't jump. We have several good young jumpers who are using the flip, and I'm not going to tell them to stop. I'm sure the rule will be changed. It's a better way to jump."
If you are one of those who believes golf is a humbling game, think of baseball as Reggie Jackson does. "When you play this game 10 years, go to bat 7,000 times and get 2,000 hits, you know what that means?" asks the Oakland rightfielder. "You've gone 0 for 5,000."
NO ROOM AT THE TOP
It was bound to happen. The Zermatt Tourist Bureau reported that on an average day this summer 150 climbers swarmed toward the 14,701-foot summit of the Matterhorn, and those who did not scale the heights early were queuing up on a ledge below. The top, 50 yards long and reasonably flat, could—and sometimes did—accommodate 40 people at a time. Latecomers waited their turn below in a kind of orbit, safeguarded by ropes strung by guides.
"It was disgusting," one disgusted climber said. "The summit was a garbage heap. It stunk to high heaven." Once considered one of the world's challenges, the peak was littered with empty cans and bottles and half-eaten food. Worse yet, a chemical toilet installed on the waiting ledge did not function properly.
High time, Swiss authorities reasoned, to set things in good odor. They ordered helicopters aloft to bring the garbage to earth, because it was there.