BRAVE NEW WORLD
It is doubtful that anyone in the U.S. was startled, or even surprised, last week when the President suggested, at San Francisco, that we can logically aspire to a "brave and new and shining world," a "new era of good life, good will and good hope." His Democratic opponent, indeed, had spoken along the same general lines the week before. Such a concept might very well have seemed like a bitter joke only a few years ago—a very few years ago—but in 1956 the foundations for the kind of future which Ike believes possible have already begun to rise; they also form the foundation of what this magazine likes to call the wonderful world of sport.
It would be presumptuous to imply that sport, even in an Olympic year, is the key to the new brotherhood of man—it is an idea which has, sadly, been disproved too often in the past. It would be cynical, it is true, not to note that sport—particularly on the running tracks, football fields and rowing courses of Europe—has facilitated what the President called "some small degree of friendly intercourse among the peoples" of the West and the Iron Curtain countries. But to regard sport as a sort of political catalyst is to take a limited and inaccurate view. In the U.S. today it is something far more meaningful; it is so inextricably intertwined with almost every phase of living that it now reflects, perhaps more simply and dramatically than any other American activity, the whole climate of national affairs.
One need only reflect upon the fact that the pleasure and inspiration of sport in the U.S. today is for the millions—no longer a sort of luxury but, in one form or another, the right of all—to consider the President's message as a practical plan as well as an expression of hope and faith. It is hard not to feel, too, that the U.S. really does have something of the spirit to offer humanity. Even today it does not, as Ike put it, "seem futile for young people to dream of a brave and new and shining world, or for older people to feel that they can, in fact, bequeath to their children a better inheritance than that which was their own." And we have indeed "brought within our grasp a world in which backbreaking toil and longer hours will not be necessary."
In a sense, as he forecast the future, Ike simply echoed the matter-of-fact, if newly conceived, aspirations of millions of his countrymen:
"Travel all over the world, to learn to know our brothers abroad, will be fast and cheap. The fear and pain of crippling disease will be greatly reduced. The material things that make life interesting and pleasant will be available to everyone. Leisure, together with educational and recreational facilities, will be abundant so that all can develop the life of the spirit, of religion, of the arts, of the full realization of the good things of the world." It seemed only fitting that the President, so saying, could enjoy some of the good things of the world himself on a golfing weekend (see p. 21).
PRIDE OF A YANKEE
The yankee high command decided last week that an old Enos Slaughter was more useful than an old Phil Rizzuto. So, abruptly, on Saturday afternoon, 16 years as a Yankee ended for Phil. He left the clubhouse without waiting for the game to finish, avoiding commiserations. He had received no definite offer to remain with the organization, first heard of a possible coaching job on his car radio.
"That's why the Yankees are so successful," he was able to say next day. "There's no sentiment when they want to make a move to help the ball club. Understand, I have no squawks. I got a lot out of the club and they treated me good and there are no complaints except—" he paused momentarily, "except maybe one."
"And what's that?" he was asked.