- TOP PLAYERSOffensePABLO S. TORRE | August 20, 2012
- TAMPA BAY buccaneersENEMY lines WHAT A RIVAL COACH SAYSJune 28, 2012
- Faces in the CrowdJune 11, 2001
No Redmond player ever will forget the second half. The boys drove for lay-ups—and missed. They shot from the key—and missed. They tried long ones—no go, either. Fourteen times Redmond players stepped to the free-throw line. Fourteen misses.
Final score: Madras 48, Redmond 22.
Ultimate frustration came after the final buzzer. Just as the game ended, Redmond's Kerry Parkinson was fouled. All alone, he stepped to the free-throw line and, since the game was over and there was no possible rebound, he calmly sank the shot for Redmond's only second-half point. Then he stepped over the foul line to nullify it.
While New York's controversy over legalizing off-track betting gets no nearer solution, one legislator in search of tax cash, Assemblyman Louis DeSalvio, has come up with a weird suggestion. Every August when New York racing moves to beautiful but isolated Saratoga, the beautiful dollars going into the state treasury dwindle. Attendance at the charming rural track can never approach that at citified Aqueduct, which has been described as a sandy supermarket.
DeSalvio suggests that city bettors in search of action during the Saratoga season should sit at Aqueduct and bet on races at Saratoga. They would be provided with closed-circuit views of Saratoga races on large television screens. Their money would register merrily on the tote boards both at Saratoga, where it would affect the odds, and at Aqueduct, where the bettors could watch the action without interference by a whinny or any other manifestation of a live horse or sweating jockey.
DeSalvio estimates that the state treasury would get another $2.5 million a year from this long-distance play. Possibly, but the DeSalvio plan would move racing one step closer to being a mere adjunct of the tax department instead of a live sport.
THE PHILHARMONIC PHILOSOPHER
The boredom of modern collegians with the sugary, lump-in-the-throat alma mater song has distressed many an old grad who remembers the days of the banjo quintet strummin' and hummin' by the light of the silvery moon. Let the old grad brace himself. The worst is here. In Seattle, gone mad with intimations of Rose Bowl grandeur, the big college song is a new rock 'n' roll twister dedicated to the Washington- Illinois game. It is driving the city wild. It is played every half hour on one radio station. It is being stamped out in thousands by a Los Angeles record manufacturer.
Seattle cannot be quarantined, so the rest of the country will be exposed to the contagion on New Year's Day, by which time it will have spread to Pasadena. The song, so to speak, is called Charlie Browning and is named for the University of Washington's fullback. Its lyrics are filled with such subtle phrasing as "Douglas throws a pass/He's all fired up/And waiting in the end zone/Is Sticky-Fingers Kupp."