Bet they wouldn't laugh if Avery Brundage were alive.
Anna Cuttone, a 17-year-old senior at Waltham High School in Massachusetts, went to Biddeford, Maine with seven friends to try a bit of parachute jumping. They took a five-hour course in ground school, strapped on parachutes, took off in a plane and jumped.
Everything went fine, except that Anna landed right next to a moving 93-car Boston & Maine freight train, which snagged her chute and began dragging her along. Luckily, her reserve chute opened, billowed full, lifted her into the air and deposited her gently on top of the 63rd car.
Three miles and several frantic phone calls later, the freight train stopped and Anna, despite her airmail-special delivery handling, was returned uncanceled. But bruised and bleeding and unenthusiastic. "I don't think I'll be jumping again," she said.
For years, the doom peddlers kept saying that baseball was dying, that no one really cared about it anymore. Baseball kept right on booming along anyway (SI, Aug. 11). Now the sourballs are turning their attention to pro football, saying of it much of what they used to say about baseball: it is past its peak, it has become a dull game, people are losing interest, the decline has set in.
However, nobody bothered to tell this to Seattle, or else Seattle wasn't listening. The city on Puget Sound has a brand-new National Football League team called the Seahawks, which will begin play in 1976. Seating capacity at Seattle's new Kingdome Stadium is 65,000, and advance season-ticket sales already are approaching 50,000. Seahawk management says it will cut off sales at around 57,000 to allow some tickets to be available on game days.
"It's phenomenal," says ticket director Gordon Green, who apparently does not realize that he is dealing with a dying sport. "It's the largest first-year ticket sale in the history of pro football."
IN MEMORY OF MAURICE