After it was all
over, and both 20-year-olds had decided to remain—at least for another year—on
the side of amateurism, Australia and the Davis Cup, the Sydney Morning Herald
explained: "They have merely been persuaded—in one case by weighty
commercial argument—that the moment is not yet opportune for them to
It took only a
matter of moments last week to accomplish an entente cordiale between those
sovereign institutions, the New York Yankees and the Japanese Empire. Although
the Yanks arrived at Tokyo International Airport in a driving rainstorm they
were surrounded by throngs of photographers, flower girls, screeching
youngsters and cheering fans as soon as they stepped from the two DC-6s which
had brought them from Honolulu. All 69—players, wives, coaches, owners and
Manager Casey Stengel—were paraded through the city in decorated jeeps and open
cars, while great crowds showered them with confetti and ticker tape, called
for autographs and tied up traffic for a full 40 minutes.
reciprocated with a will. They appeared on the stage of a downtown theater and,
while firecrackers popped and the audience cheered, lobbed dozens of soft
rubber baseballs into the crowd. The next day, while working out at Kawasaki
stadium between Tokyo and Yokohama, they hit balls into the stands and over the
fences as mementos for scrambling crowds of fans. "I hope," said
Manager Stengel to Japanese sportswriters (who still talk of Babe Ruth with
awe), "some day to have a Japanese player on the Yankees. It would be good
for baseball and Japan and the Yankees." The spectators at the Yanks' first
game with the professional Tokyo Orions were delighted with Kazuhiro Yamauchi
who hit a home run off Tommy Byrne, but seemed even more set up by the fact
that the Yanks won 10-2.
What did the
Japanese think of the Brooklyn Dodgers? "The Yankees," stated one
newspaper firmly, "are still the champs to Japanese baseball fans."
sailing season is over. And it has ended, as in every year since 1937, without
the most thrilling spectacle in the yachting world—a defense of the America's
Cup (see 19TH HOLE). Seventeen times from the first meeting in 1851 to Harold
Vanderbilt's sweep in
over Thomas Sop-with's Endeavor II in 1937,
yachtsmen in England and America built the tallest, fastest and inevitably the
most beautiful boats in the world and sent them against each other in offshore
races. The fact that England never managed to win even one of her tries hardly
seemed to deter British challengers, nor did it deter Americans from spending
vast sums on the giant J-Boats to make sure that England never won. Harold K.
Vanderbilt's bill for
was $300,000. If anything,
looked even more
expensive. Her duraluminum mast towered 165 feet over the water, her 135-foot
hull tapered to 87 feet on the waterline, and her graceful underwater curves
swept down to a keel that held 110 tons of lead.
later cup defenders were simply too much boat for anything but cup defenses.
When World War II began,
and her surviving sisters in the U.S. were
broken up for their metal. In England, the Endeavor II suffered an even worse
fate. An American yachtsman, in England last summer for Cowes Week, made a
special pilgrimage to see what could be fairly called the finest yacht in
lying on the mud flats at low tide near Southampton," he recalled a few
days ago. "None of her sticks were on. There was a little shack on the
deck. A family washing hung out above decks. It was a sad sight."
Indeed it was.
This same man, however, was dead against building more Rangers and Endeavors:
"Some people are talking about a cup revival in terms of the J-Boat. I
think they are crazy. When not racing, the J-Boat has no value at all. Besides,
sailing is going in the opposite direction from the J-Boat idea" (i.e.,
toward more practical, all-round boats).