Not To Be Forgotten

Andrea Mead Lawrence, 76

Before the 1952 Winter Olympics, Mead was featured on the cover of Time, which noted that the 19-year-old "drinks a beer with her meals, and ... smokes a cigarette when she feels like it." The training regimen worked: Lawrence swept both slalom events in Oslo, an unprecedented feat for an American. She later spent four decades as a leading conservationist in the eastern Sierra Nevada.

Marvin Webster, 56

The 7'1" Webster was renowned as a shot blocker, picking up the nickname the Human Eraser after swatting away 8.0 per game as a junior at Morgan State. The son of a Baptist preacher—he seldom traveled without a Bible and never swore—Webster had his best NBA season in 1977--78, when he led the Seattle SuperSonics to the Finals, averaging 16.1 points, 13.1 rebounds and 2.64 blocks in the playoffs.

Ted Kennedy, 83

Maple Leafs executive Frank Selke acquired the 17-year-old Kennedy in 1943, when owner Conn Smythe was off serving in World War II. Smythe was livid that Selke gave up one of his favorite prospects for the center, creating a rift that led to Selke's departure. Not an exceptionally fast or graceful skater, Teeder had a knack for scoring clutch goals (against the defending champion Canadiens in 1947, he became the youngest player to net a Stanley Cup winner) and is widely regarded as the greatest face-off man in NHL history. He won five Cups with Toronto—two as captain, a post to which he was elected at the tender age of 22—and took the Hart Trophy as the league's most valuable player in 1955, his final full season. As for Smythe, he eventually came around, calling Kennedy "the greatest competitor in hockey."

Jack Kemp, 73

Too small to stick in the NFL, the quarterback from Division III Occidental College caught on with the AFL's Chargers in 1960. Kemp's gunslinging ways—he was a scrambler who could throw the ball 90 yards—were a perfect fit for the wide-open, progressive league. His politics were more straitlaced: He was a fan of William F. Buckley and a columnist for the right-leaning San Diego Union. He gave up that gig in '62, when the Bills picked him up on waivers; in Buffalo he won two titles and the '65 MVP award. He also cofounded the AFL players' association and was elected its president five times, so it came as no surprise that just months after he retired in '70, he was elected to Congress. Kemp, who ran for president in '88 and was the GOP vice-presidential nominee in '96, was an ardent supporter of Ronald Reagan's supply-side economics, but on social issues, especially race, the man who called himself a "bleeding-heart conservative" was far more liberal, in part because of his football career. "I can't help but care about the rights of the people I used to shower with," he was fond of saying.

Chuck Daly, 78

It seemed like an NBA mismatch: the take-no-prisoners Pistons of the 1980s and their coach, whose love of crooners was surpassed only by his love of clothes. But even Daly's sartorial passions (a friend of Daly's once estimated that he had at least 100 blue suits) couldn't surpass his fervor on the sidelines (in 1985 he got into a sideline shoving match with Bulls coach Stan Albeck). That ability to cultivate both his soft and hard sides served him well; he was beloved by his players in Detroit—they affectionately called him Daddy Rich—but at the same time, as one assistant put it, "the players have to know who's boss, and on this team Chuck Daly is the boss." In '83 he took over a Pistons club that had just three winning records in the previous quarter century. In his nine seasons in Detroit he never had fewer than 46 victories, and in 1989 he led the team to the first of two consecutive titles, expertly managing the oversized personalities and egos. His touch was just as deft with the original Dream Team in 1992, which he led on a gold medal romp in Barcelona.