Sonny Liston says he "come for to fight." He is willing to take on Floyd Patterson, Ingemar Johansson, Harold Johnson or anybody big enough and old enough. He wants to fight two or three times a year. That sounds to us the way a heavyweight champion should talk.

On the other hand, we have the World Boxing Association. The WBA has lampooned the idea of a Liston-Patterson rematch, saying that Patterson should, in effect, go out and get a name for himself before being permitted another shot at Liston. Not content with stating its opinion, the WBA drew itself up to its full 4 feet 2 inches and announced that any state or nation sanctioning an immediate Patterson-Liston return fight should be suspended from the WBA.

The World Boxing Association perhaps should be excused its flamboyant attempts to get prestige and publicity. But we do wish it would stop opposing lights. Apparently the WBA, because of what happened in Chicago last September, wants Floyd Patterson to start all over to prove that he is a valid challenger.

We recognize that the return-match clause is sometimes abused, and we certainly do not feel it should be applied to all lights. But just as certainly we feel it is a valid and just device when applied to the heavyweight championship. A man like Patterson, who held boxing's most important crown for five of the last six years, deserves an immediate chance to regain it.

What the WBA should be seeking is a quick rematch between Patterson and Liston. Then, should Liston win again, Patterson would indeed need to go out and prove himself. But the events of two minutes and six seconds should not spell oblivion for any champion, no matter how poor his showing. There are tens of thousands of us who couldn't quite believe our eyes in Chicago. We deserve a rematch, too.

Rolls-Royce is a synonym for perfection. Famed for its production of "The Best Car in the World," the company now does 80% of its business in aerojet engines. In fact, over 50% of the free world's jet or propjet airliners are powered by Rolls-Royce engines. In 1929 the Rolls-Royce R aero-engine was developed, giving an unbelievable one hp for each 0.7 pounds of weight, and it was the R engine that set land and water world speed records in the Campbell Bluebirds. Now Rolls-Royce has decided to enter the marine field in earnest, adding a petrol engine to their marine diesels. By adapting their 8-cylinder V8 aluminum automobile engine they have made 850 pounds produce 250 shaft horsepower in the typical silent, vibration-free Rolls-Royce manner. After careful study the company selected Gray Marine as its U.S. representative. Gray Marine has 20 distributors, 70 dealers and some 500 service stations which will all be trained and equipped for handling the new engine with the customary cummerbund service due an aristocrat. Gray Marine also produces its own 280-hp engine weighing 925 pounds, but its only advantage over the rival import will be price. However, along with the additional cost for his silent companion below decks, the Rolls-Royce purchaser also gets a plaque for prominent display on his boat. It reads, "Powered by Rolls-Royce."

The New York Rangers of the National Hockey League are trying to sell or trade their veteran defensive star, Doug Harvey, one of the best players in hockey history, who last year coached and played so brilliantly that he led the Rangers into the Stanley Cup playoffs. Harvey quit as coach this season and wanted to quit as a player, but the Rangers persuaded him to stay on as a player by giving him a $30,000 contract, granting him the privilege of skipping practice sessions and paying for his between-game trips to his home in Montreal. The Rangers' generosity has backfired. Harvey's play has been ragged, and teammates and fans are complaining about the special treatment being accorded him.


Not so long ago a sort of idealistic curtain separated Detroit and the auto manufacturers of Europe. Detroit built size and comfort and ignored racing. Europe built surefooted handling and went racing at the drop of a sparkplug. An American cult growing up around the European imports snooted at "Detroit iron." Detroit snooted right back at "funny little foreign cars."

Now times have changed. This week in a magnificently florid but, nonetheless, significant speech in Monte Carlo, Benson Ford, vice-president of the Ford Motor Co., said, "We Americans are beginning once again to hearken to the deep, full-throated music of a fine-tuned engine pouring it on, the whine of the gearbox, the squeal of hot rubber on asphalt. We are looking under the hoods and under the sheet metal and demanding more and more the attributes of the great coursing cars of Europe."

Five years ago such a declaration by an American automaker would have been unbelievable. But as this magazine revealed in November, Ford has undertaken a massive new program in sport events. This month it will put the first American factory team into the noted Monte Carlo Rally.

Benson Ford went on to say, "It is largely as a result of European concepts that the American industry has been able to remain profitable...and hold the price line.... The American buyer is demanding performance and handling in an increasingly louder voice. He has learned about them following the sports-page accounts of road races and rallies first in Europe and then in the United States. This growing preoccupation with driving for sport and for pleasure has pumped new life into the U.S. automobile market. We have passed through the winter of our automotive discontent, when Americans seemed to lose interest in style and performance in automobiles."


Salmon, when alive, like to swim upstream to spawn. When caught, their struggles usually subside, on the table or in a can. This is the tale of a poor salmon taken in a river in Scotland and rushed air express as a Christmas present from M. Macleod & Co. of Glasgow, to John Menzies, president of Parrott & Co., wholesale liquor dealers in San Francisco. The salmon arrived over San Francisco the day after shipment, right on schedule but, because of fog, the plane couldn't land. Fish and plane were diverted to Las Vegas, and the fish remained aboard when the plane headed for the completion of its flight in Honolulu. There the salmon was taken off and sent on the first plane straight back to San Francisco. Fog again. The weary salmon once more went to Las Vegas, but before nightfall he was off again to Seattle. Finally, 9 days and 12,000 miles after leaving home, the flying Scot reached San Francisco.

By this time, alas, the salmon was not only too late but too pungent for Christmas dinner.


Last week before the Duke-Princeton basketball game, the Tigers' coach, Bill van Breda Kolff, was chatting with the Blue Devil star, Art Heyman, an old friend. Heyman allowed as how it would be nice if Princeton would guard him man to man, instead of using a zone defense. Van Breda Kolff said that would be all right with him if Duke would defense the Tigers and their sophomore star, Bill Bradley, the same way. Fine, promised Heyman, and the bargain was struck.

Unfortunately for Bill van Breda Kolff, Art Heyman does not coach Duke. Vic Bubas does, and Bubas threw up a four-man zone with the extra man assigned to harass Bradley. The surprised and irritated Princetonians fell behind 42-28 in the first half, and though they rallied later, they were unable to pull the game out. A chagrined Van Breda Kolff snorted, "Duke is good enough to use man-to-man and they try this stuff."

Bubas said nothing and kept on thinking. The next night in Greensboro, where Duke was playing Wake Forest, he asked for a measurement of the south goal at half time. It just didn't look right to him. The basket proved to be three inches low. After it was reset at its proper height, the Duke shooters hit 24 of 37 shots for a 64.9 percentage and rolled to a 113-87 victory.

Moral: don't mess with Bubas.


•The Mahi Shrine, sponsor of the North-South college football games in Miami, may have sponsored its last one on December 22. Only 16,952 turned out in the Orange Bowl, and many of those were kids admitted free or for 25¢. It was the smallest crowd in the history of the event, though the weather was ideal and the game excellent, the South winning 15-14, with a touchdown in the last 37 seconds. Only the television receipts of $25,000 assured the Shrine's fund for crippled children a profit.

•Insiders now insist that Wilbur Johns, UCLA athletic director, will be moved upstairs to a job created for him, and Billy Barnes will take over as athletic director.

•A year hence when Oregon and San Jose State meet in football at Eugene, the opposing quarterbacks probably will be the Berry Brothers—Bob who will play for the Webfoots and Ken for the Spartans. They are the sons of Bob Berry Sr., who has coached Willow Glen High of San Jose to 42 consecutive victories. Both boys had a hand in fashioning that string.

•Utah State's John Ralston has been talking with President Wallace Sterling and Athletic Director Al Masters of Stanford about coaching there.

•Montreal Canadien scouts are shadowing Jack Leetch, 6-foot, 180-pound Boston College forward, one of the stars of Boston's victory in the ECAC tournament in Madison Square Garden. Leetch, while interested in a pro hockey career, must do his military service and would like to try for the 1964 Olympic hockey team.


Like the pretty girl's plain sister, a newspaper editor in New York's suburban Westchester County does not normally get much attention. But it's something else when all the big-time, big-city papers are closed up because of a strike. Last week Guido Cribari, sports editor and columnist for the 10-paper Macy-Westchester chain suddenly found himself the object of an amazing amount of attention and endearment.

Since the New York dailies were closed he has been besieged by mail, by phone, by telegram at all hours of the day. He gets beautifully written copy for his column (probably turned out by top newspapermen trying to hustle eating money while the papers are closed). Restaurants call him, flatter him, beg him. Just one line in Guido's column, mentioning that Chuck Linebacker and Lefty Dingbat had dinner at so-and-so's the other peeyem. Press agents and public relations men vie for his time. Top Hollywood agents are after him for a plug. If you can't get a line in New York, Westchester has to do.

"Mr. Cribari," began one agent. "I'll be frank with you. Today you're the most important man in the world." He was one guy who got his line in Westchester.



•Art Aragon, ex-fighter: "Now that I am a bail bondsman, I make less money but keep more. A fighter should be taxed out of every fight, not at the end of a year. When he gets a couple of $1,000 bills he thinks he's rich. A couple of Cadillacs and a half dozen dolls are par for his course. When time comes to pay his tax he doesn't have a dime."

•Gene Collins, motorcycle enthusiast and dancer with the National Ballet troupe: "This really is tougher than riding a motorcycle. We work harder than any football player, trackman or even a truckdriver."

•Tom Scalzo, an Arcadia, Calif. bowling proprietor, who has rolled three perfect games: "A 300 game in bowling is the hardest of all sports feats. Nothing can compare with the mental and physical strain of rolling that 12th, payoff ball. You wonder why the ball quivers in your hand, and, believe me, it does."

•Stirling Moss, racing champion, recuperating from a crash of eight months ago and after two operations from results of that crash: "I have the will to get fit, but I have not the will to win—yet. I'll know when that comes; perhaps tomorrow, next year, or never."

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