Those who sympathize with Toolson's inability, because of the reserve clause, to seek a job on some pitcher-hungry major-league team after he refused the Binghamton transfer, might consider the typical hockey player's plight. An amateur hockey player of professional promise becomes the property, exclusively, of any National Hockey League club which first announces to NHL headquarters that it is interested in bargaining with him. If he refuses the club's offer he probably cannot play for any other NHL team. In baseball a player does not become a slave until he has signed his first contract.
If the Supreme Court thinks it is having a rough time understanding the situation in boxing (Justice Stanley Reed seemed to be under the impression last week that the issue being argued had something to do with wrestling), consider what might happen if it were asked to straighten out hockey which is not only interstate but international.
42 miles, 676 strokes
Leonard Nash lined up his last shot carefully. His ball lay teed high upon some rubble in the street gutter, so he knew he wouldn't top it. The hole at which he was aiming was larger and higher than usual. In fact it was a mop pail placed right in the middle of the doorway of the 7 Palms Cafe in Palmdale, Calif. After a careful sizing up, Nash chipped at the ball and up it went gently into the bucket. His final score: 678 strokes. The moment was tense. The crowd of 2,500 quieted as Nash's opponent, Jim Rogers, prepared for his turn. His club came down and around in a perfect arc and the ball which was lying at the foot of the bar shot up and into the pail with a clank. Rogers leaped in the air with glee. He had won with a score of 676.
So ended one of the zaniest golf matches in history. It all started on a recent night in a Pasadena bar. Jim Rogers and Leonard Nash, both high-80 golfers in their late 20s, had just played a round and Nash had won.
"It was luck," claimed Rogers.
"It wasn't," said Nash.
"I could beat you any time, any course," said Rogers.
"I could even beat you playing over the mountain," replied Nash.
"It's a bet. One buck," said Rogers.