Your article on Bobby Hull (The Handsome Hero of the Hawks, Nov. 14) fails even to mention a contemporary great who is just hitting his full stride. Frank Mahovlich of the Maple Leafs grabbed the Calder Trophy from Hull with a 20-goal year when they were both rookies; he is now the second-highest goal-scorer in the NHL.
ALAN JEROME SUTIN
The article should have been called The Team of One Man, and it should have been about the Detroit Red Wings and the greatest player of all time, Gordie Howe.
After those high-flying, green-shirted Eagles swamped the Steelers 34-7 and rolled up 487 yards in the bargain, we Philadelphia fans thought we would get the nod at last. Instead it was the Colts and the Giants (Life in the Old Boys Yet, Nov. 14). Who's leading this league anyway?
ALEXANDER N. RUBIN JR.
•For information on the high-flying Eagles, turn back to page 16.—ED.
There are other teams in the NFL besides the Giants and the Colts. It's a shock, isn't it?
Why don't you wake up! Green Bay has an excellent team and will go on to further heights.
JOHN W. O'LEARY III
I've been reading SPORTS ILLUSTRATED for five years and never have I read a more inaccurate account of a great football game (Fever in Minneapolis, Nov. 14).
Not taking anything away from a fine Minnesota line, I would hardly go so far as to say Iowa was "whipped to a stubble."
I believe you left out the part about Minnesota receiving only three first downs in the opening half.
You can rant and rave all you want about the tremendous, wide-open offenses of Iowa, New Mexico State and Ohio State, but the best offense is still a good defense, and that's Minnesota's Golden Gophers, the No. 1 team in the nation.
Iowa is still king.
ROBERT L. STEELE
Re Kansas City's World Champion Fresh-water Fisherman Harold Ensley (FACES IN THE CROWD, NOV. 14). I know a lot of people look like Harry Truman—but this is ridiculous! (See below.)
JOHN A. RIDDLE
Where can I purchase the fourth edition of The Guinness Book of Records, a "Matterhorn of minutiae, now on sale" (SCORECARD, NOV. 14)?
W. Hyattsville, Md.
•Guinness Superlatives Ltd., Park Royal Brewery, London, N.W. 10 ($3.50).—ED.
If Jack Kramer now succeeds, as you suggest, in making all the so-called amateurs honest (Open Tennis Openly Arrived At, EDITORIALS, NOV. 14), he will not be doing much to help the cause of open tennis.
Who will be left of the amateur stars to oppose Kramer's professionals in the opens when they come?
EDWARD C. POTTER
Delray Beach, Fla.
SOWBELLY A LA MODE
Hurrah for Stanley Walker (Down with Gourmets, Nov. 7)! Anyone for pot roast?
MRS. GEORGE L. FREDRICKS
From the very beginning, I had a premonition that as the crowning glory of true-blue, down-to-earth American cooking Mr. Walker was going to wind up with sowbelly, 'lasses and biscuits. Southern cooking, with its grease and grits, is by far the most overrated cookery in these United States.
W. L. BARTLETT
Stanley Walker is remembered as the brilliant city editor of the New York Herald Tribune who resigned at the height of his editorial powers to flee the decadent environs of New York for the plains and fancies of Texas. He has been there for years, now, yet his rebellion seems not to have been assuaged by the blue bonnets, the northers or the Cadillacs. Writing for SPORTS ILLUSTRATED recently his spleen seems to have come completely unstopped.
Perhaps the hot, dry air of Texas is not the best antidote for anger. At any rate to get his solitary crusade in motion, Stanley sets up a Texas windmill, then has at it, at the gallop.
The iconoclast who denounces the use of the word chic in connection with food must know some pretty peculiar folk down where he lives. Do people in Houston, or Dallas, or San Antonio, or Austin, or Fort Worth or Wichita Falls sit down to a dinner-party table to mutter, "What chic potatoes"? Do they, really?
Walker charges on mad as all get-out, whacking away with hoe handles at what he doesn't like, but the conclusion seems to be that a dish is a dish is a dish—except when it has a French word in it.
No, no, no, Mr. Walker! Tilt at your windmills while the sand blows around you in Texas' searing hot winds, break your lances where you please but differentiate between a gourmet and a snob. And let the gourmets of the world continue to honor the men who have created the greatest dishes, from Louisiana frogs' legs to Maine lobster and corn, by continuing to use the tongue with which they were named.
Join us, Stanley, pull up a chair, any time. And leave that sowbelly to the hawgs. You're not really angry with gourmets, anyway, you're angry at pretense.
PHILIP N. OBER