As an alumnus of the Creighton School of Law, I would like your readers to be aware that of the three seniors on the 1982-83 Creighton basketball team, two, Mark Jones and Richard Bates, have been accepted by the law school for this fall, while the third, Joe Bresnahan, plans to attend Creighton's medical school.
These young men are fine examples of the combination of academic achievement and intercollegiate basketball competition that's available at Creighton. They are also examples of the fact that the individual student-athlete remains principally responsible for his own educational achievement.
MARK S. BERTOLINI
I am distressed by your SCORECARD item about Kevin Ross. Creighton, like all universities and colleges, is an institution of higher learning. You put all the blame for illiterate athletes on the NCAA and colleges. How about pointing a finger at high schools and grammar schools? True, colleges are remiss for admitting below-standard students with low grade-point averages, but it's up to the high schools and elementary schools to prepare these students properly.
Sierra Vista, Ariz.
I wholeheartedly agree with the opinions expressed in your May 23 SCORECARD. However, perhaps you could help Kevin Ross in his pursuit of a degree by hiring him to check your spelling: sophmore (sic), in the third paragraph of the item entitled "College Athletics I."
THE REV. JAMES KUNTZ, S.J.
Santa Clara, Calif.
In his article Rebirth of the Bonus Baby (May 9), Bill Brubaker accurately depicted the unique situation of 18-year-old Juan Nieves. Unfortunately, however, Juan's personality and character were not truly represented by quotes like "I'm in the driver's seat.... I've got it my way now" or "The world revolves around money, and in a few weeks that's what I'll be looking for. A lot of it." An overconfident or materialistic young man he is not! I speak on behalf of all who know Juan. He is a humble, caring, giving person who enjoys people, values education and loves his family, friends and baseball. He is a young man of exemplary character and considerable moral fiber. Nor is Juan's mother—"I'm not going to give my boy away for peanuts"—materialistic; rather, she's a devoutly religious person who is deeply concerned about the physical, mental and spiritual well-being of her son.
Should Juan decide to sign with a professional team before attending college—another significant priority in his life—it will represent not a means to make a fast buck, but the fulfillment of a lifelong dream to play baseball in the big leagues.
Juan's Baseball Coach and Athletic Director
Avon Old Farms School
I felt your article on "bonus baby" Juan Nieves was extremely accurate. As an alumnus of Avon Old Farms, I can imagine what Juan must be going through. It was my experience at Avon, a school with an outstanding athletic program, that, when deciding on colleges, most student-athletes emphasized the financial support offered by a college rather than the quality of its academics. This seems to be the attitude of most high school seniors with athletic futures. It's just too bad our society is set up in such a way.
BOX SCORES (CONT.)
I am writing belatedly to commend Henry Hecht for his fascinating article on the evolution—and, since 1958, devolution—of the baseball box score (A Box Full of Goodies, April 4). Of particular interest was his report of Melvin L. Adelman's serendipitous discovery of the "lost ark"—the primal box score of Oct. 25, 1845. Your readers might be interested to know that four of the men on the New York Ball Club that day were also in the lineup on June 19, 1846, for the New Yorks against the Knickerbockers at the Elysian Fields in Hoboken, N.J., in the first organized game played under the new rules developed by Alexander Cartwright. Attentive readers of Hecht's article no doubt noted that in the game of Oct. 25, 1845, only eight players participated on each side.
Hecht writes that the abbreviation H.L., which indicated unsuccessful times at bat in the box scores of the 1860s, "stumps historians." H.L. stands for "Hands Lost," a slight change from the term "Hands Out" seen in the 1845 box score cited above. As authority I cite Henry Chadwick in Beadle's Dime Base Ball Player of 1876, the early equivalent of today's Official Baseball Guide published by The Sporting News: "HAND LOST—This is the old term applicable to the 'outs' in a game. For instance, the moment a player is put out, the batting side 'loses a hand.' "
In regard to Robert A. Muldoon's letter (19TH HOLE, May 16) concerning Jack McCallum's article on roommates (For Better, for Worse, May 2), I think the difficulties arising from the pairing of Rube Waddell and Ossee Schreckengost are stated incorrectly. According to what I have heard and read, Schreckengost was the individual who enjoyed munching, not animal crackers, but crackers and Limburger cheese while lying in bed. This foul-smelling habit incensed Waddell, the Hall of Fame pitcher who also loved to chase fire trucks, but his repeated entreaties to Athletics owner and Manager Connie Mack proved unsuccessful at putting a stop to Schreckengost's late-night snacks. Finally. Waddell burst into Mack's hotel room one night and crushed a Limburger sandwich on the sheets. Waddell's ploy obviously worked; Schreckengost's contract the next season prohibited him from eating Limburger cheese and crackers in bed.
MARK L. ADAMS