At one time I would have relegated an article such as the one by William Humphrey on a giant trout (Prodigy in a Puddle, Sept. 18) to my pile of unread fishing stories. However, since the recent death of my avid fisherman father, I have tried to discover why he found such pleasure in what I considered a mundane avocation. Humphrey's story explained it to me. I look forward to reading his book.
JOHN C. OGLIORE
Prodigy in a Puddle by William Humphrey was, in my humble opinion, one of the best stories about dry-fly fishing that I have read. What memories it brought back!
I am 78 and have been dry-fly fishing in the Esopus, the Beaverkill, the Willowemoc, the Neversink and the Ausable since I was in my teens. What a marvelous, wonderful, relaxing—and exacting—pleasure it is. I lift my glass to Humphrey, and my appreciation to you.
CHARLES M. BROWN JR.
I found William Humphrey's account of the huge trout wonderfully told, but surely he is suffering from that common fisherman's ailment, exaggeration. No brown trout in the Berkshires could be that big!
New York City
•Says Humphrey, "About 40 years ago there was an imaginative fellow on radio who called himself Baron Munchausen. Whenever someone doubted one of the Baron's tales, his stock reply was, 'Vass you dere, Sharlie?' "—ED.
VOICE OF THE WHITE SOX
That was a great article on Harry Caray by Ron Fimrite (The Big Wind in Chicago, Sept. 18). In my judgment, Harry was, and probably still is, the best play-by-play announcer in baseball. No other announcer can describe a home run like Harry can. As a youngster in Southern Illinois who followed the St. Louis Cardinals in the '40s and '50s, I can recall very well his description of a Cardinal homer: "There she goes...way, way back...it might...it could be...it is, a home run...Ho-lee cow!"
MARVIN E. NOWICKI
Hoo boy, you pegged him right. Harry Car-ay sold Cardinal baseball for 25 years. We wanted Stan Musial's autograph, but Harry was our good friend on the Atwater Kent. That's back when his color man was Gabby Street and then Joe Garagiola.
The day Harry Caray left St. Louis, my August baseball turned to September football and my Busch beer turned to Coors.
LINDELL C. GARDNER
Your article about Harry Caray was amusing, simply because it proved how much he knows about women, bars and barbers and how little he knows about baseball. If you want to do an article about broadcasters who are true experts on the game, go north to Wrigley Field and talk to Vince Lloyd and Lou Boudreau. They have probably forgotten more about baseball than Harry Caray will ever know.
There have been a lot of long-shot, inspirational events in sport over the last few months. Three men piloted a balloon across the Atlantic. Muhammad Ali came back to reclaim his heavyweight championship. Catfish Hunter and his New York Yankees rallied to get into the thick of things in the AL East, after falling 14 games behind. Jimmy Connors pulled himself together and won the U.S. Open. But Jim Bouton may take the cake (Old 56 Comes Back at 39, Sept. 18). In the space of a year, Bouton has gone from being an eccentric joke to a capable major league pitcher. By struggling back to the majors after an eight-year absence, he has carved himself a niche in a game that never appreciated his various talents.
SEAN PETER KIRST