Scorecard

LLOYD'S OF LOSERS

Kheel's prediction aside, if the track record of Lloyd's of London is any indication, the strike could last a long time. Well before it began the owners paid Lloyd's and other underwriters an estimated $2 million for strike insurance that would yield $100,000 for each game not played up to 500 games—or $50 million. The insurance goes into effect after 153 games are missed, which means the owners begin receiving their payout on June 25. If the strike persists for the duration of the policy, which would run out on Aug. 8 as things stand now, Lloyd's, as the major underwriter, would have to pay the lion's share of the $50 million. The bad omen here: In the past few years Lloyd's has had an exceptionally bad time of it, paying out huge sums on one disastrous policy after another. Consider the following:

Butter Mountain, the nickname given a Dutch warehouse that contained $14 million worth of butter, burned down in 1977, making the small town of Elst in which it was located look like a giant pancake, while Lloyd's, which hadn't realized that all that butter was under one roof, wound up with egg on its face. Lloyd's has recently had to pay out almost $23 million for fire-insurance claims in Canada and the U.S., much of it for buildings that suddenly went up in flames—oh, I say, old chaps, what rotten luck—in the South Bronx. Lloyd's charged NBC $2 million to help insure TV coverage of the 1980 Olympics, but then reportedly had to pay out $45 million when the U.S. boycotted the Games. Itel Corporation of San Francisco got a $340 million settlement from Lloyd's to cover losses incurred when computer-lease contracts were canceled after IBM put out a new model. In July 1979 a $45 million tanker, Atlantic Empress, carrying $40 million in naphthalene, and insured by Lloyd's, sank in the Caribbean. She went down after colliding with the Aegean Captain, another—you guessed it—Lloyd's policyholder. Three liquid natural gas tankers under construction in Louisiana turned out to be defective, and last October an insurance syndicate headed by Lloyd's had to pay out some $300 million. An RCA satellite insured by Lloyd's for $75 million got lost in space. The San Diego Clippers have collected $1.25 million from Lloyd's because Bill Walton's left foot wouldn't come round. And just last April, a British court ordered Lloyd's to pay Shell International Petroleum $25.5 million for the loss of the tanker Salem, which allegedly was scuttled at sea by her crew after the oil was secretly sold in Durban, South Africa.

Lloyd's won't discuss the baseball strike insurance, but Benjamin Lipson, a Boston insurance consultant who has seen a copy of the policy, says that's understandable because "It's the nature of the business. Lloyd's is dealing in large amounts, and it's a private and confidential matter." Lipson, who writes a weekly column on consumer insurance for The Boston Globe, calls the policy "imaginative and creative," adding, "There's a risk involved for Lloyd's, but-unlike most coverages, this one isn't designed to make the policyholder whole. It's a masterpiece of hedging." In sum, Lipson believes that Lloyd's isn't going to be severely hurt by a long strike. So when will the strike end? "My personal feeling is that it'll end within a week," says Lipson.

FOLLOWING UP

? Charlie Fox has spent much of his adult life toiling to protect the Letort, the famed trout stream that meanders past his property near Carlisle, Pa. (SI, Jan. 31, 1977). A retired book editor, probation officer and state land acquisition specialist, Fox spread gravel on the bed of the Letort to assist spawning, brought in rock to hold the stream within its banks and cajoled state officials into enforcing strict measures to protect the stream's native brown trout. Last month a highly toxic insecticide, endosulfan, which had been used to spray watercress bogs on a farm near the source of the Letort, flowed downstream, wiping out much of the Letort's brown trout, some of which flopped onto the stream's banks in their death throes. The farm's owners have since been treating the bogs in an effort to hasten the breakdown of the remaining endosulfan, but state officials say that trout fishing in the Letort may not return to normal for another five years, if ever, and Fox, now 72, says, "I don't know if I'll ever see this stream come back to the way it was."

?It has been nearly five years since the Montreal Olympics and nearly one since a three-member commission headed by Quebec Superior Court Justice Albert Malouf blamed the $1 billion deficit resulting from the Games largely on Montreal Mayor Jean Drapeau. Drapeau, who has been Montreal's mayor for 25 of the last 27 years, promised to issue an elaborate rebuttal to the Malouf report complete with "quotations, illustrations and charts," and when last heard from on the subject, said he was still working on his reply (SCORECARD, NOV. 17, 1980). The other day Drapeau told a meeting of the Montreal city council that his rebuttal would be completed before the next municipal elections—in November 1982.

SCREWBALL SEARCH

The success of Fernando Valenzuela, who relies heavily on the screwball, has prompted the Dodgers to try something unique. Without fanfare, Al Campanis, the team's shrewd vice-president for player personnel, has hired Jim Brewer, 43, former Dodger reliever and screwballer of note, to visit the Dodgers' five farm teams this summer in search of youngsters who can learn to throw the scroogie. "It's not for everyone," says Brewer, who began working with the Lodi, Calif. team last week. "We'll only work with those who are comfortable throwing it. If we find two or three, I think the Dodgers will be satisfied. If we're successful, I expect every organization will be doing it next year. Valenzuela learned it so quickly, over winter ball, that Campanis wonders how many other guys might do the same thing."

Brewer has a reputation as a superb teacher. Dick Williams credited him with turning the young Expos' staff into a big winner when Brewer coached at Montreal from 1977 to 1979, and Montreal ace Steve Rogers was so high on Brewer that he bought a home in Brewer's hometown, Broken Arrow, Okla., to get instruction in the off-season. Two years ago, Brewer, who is president of a land-development company, was Oral Roberts University's volunteer pitching coach; this month ORU Pitcher Mike Moore was the No. 1 pick in the draft. He says Brewer improved his curve and taught him to throw the slider. Previously Moore relied on his fastball.