April 27, 1964
April 27, 1964

Table of Contents
April 27, 1964

A Happy Willie
White Stallions
'I'm The Worst'
Horse Racing
The Smokehole
19th Hole: The Readers Take Over


"I'm not worried about fires, I'm just worried about the game's public image," said National League President Warren Giles after he ordered "No Smoking" signs posted in all NL dugouts. "If ballplayers want to smoke, the least they can do is go somewhere where nobody can see them. It looks very bush," added nonsmoker Giles.

This is an article from the April 27, 1964 issue Original Layout

What with the sap beginning to rise in the linden trees, with Neighbor Khrushchev just turned a benign 70 and not a bit dead after all, with Neighbor De Gaulle all sewed up and good as new again, all was quiet last week on the Western Front—that is, in West Berlin. So what happened? Mayor Willy Brandt, 50, took the afternoon off to kick a soccer ball (below) with his son, Matthias, 3.

Leaving his baton, his bubbles and his cottage-cheese smile behind. Bandleader Lawrence Welk picked up his matched woods and irons and waltzed onto the links at Louisville. And-a-one, and-a-two, and-a-18 holes later, the sweetest musician this side of Guy Lombardo segued home with a creditable 89, to win $1 for the best score of his foursome. "Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful," commented the 61-year-old darling of the rocking-chair set as he slumped down at the 19th hole for a glass of milk.

Be the sky blue for his own college, Harvard crimson or just West Point gray, Yale's brand-new President Kingman Brewster Jr. hops on his English bicycle every day, hooks his brown briefcase on a spare finger and pedals the one-third mile from his home on Hillhouse Avenue to his new office on the Yale quad. "I've been riding a bicycle ever since I fell off at the age of 4," said the determined prexy last week as he glided to a graceful stop after coasting the wrong way down a one-way New Haven street.

Sporting a new white helmet and jodhpurs that were too big for him, Prince Charles thundered across the polo field in Windsor Great Park on a brown pony with his father, Prince Philip. After a few rousing chukkers, the 15-year-old heir to the throne hopped in his father's Alvis and drove back to the castle, with proud papa as a passenger. Was he old enough to drive? Well, technically, no, but his mother owns the park.

Why is America's youth going soft? According to Georgie Jessel, the sentimental comic who swam to fame through the tears in My Mother's Eyes, it's all Mom's fault. "At the sight of a drop of rain or the fall of a snowflake," scolds the 66-year-old momma's boy of another day, "most American mothers will say, 'Children, don't go out, you'll catch cold. Turn on the TV instead.' "

The rain in Spain fell mainly on the Cantabrian coast last week, but Generalissimo Francisco Franco, 71, who runs everything there but the weather, did not mind a bit. He just stood knee-deep in the rain-swollen Eo River and shouted triumphantly. "I got it!" What he had got was six big salmon, weighing 30 to 50 pounds. "Now I can go back to work," said the rain-soaked Caudillo, packing up his rod and reel. "My brain is clear and my batteries are fully recharged."

Arthur Murray plays his tennis in a hurry. Or so it might seem to a stranger suddenly glimpsing the famed dance man on his own private tennis court, which is just two-thirds the size of a regulation one. "The smaller court saves steps." explains Arthur's diminutive partner, Kathryn, who is built to roughly the same scale. "Arthur likes exercise but he doesn't believe in having too much of a good thing."

"Don't be a fool and drop out of school," say the educators. But Philadelphia Eagle Owner Jerry Wolman could answer: "Wait 21 years and graduate cum laude" Quitting classes in his teens to drive his dad's produce truck, Jerry later amassed more than $35 million in the construction business. "Your success after leasing school entitles you to credit for your senior year." said the Shenandoah (Pa.) school board as it graduated him summa cum laude in economics, business and finance.

As the dogwood lining the fairways began to blossom at Ike's old hangout—the Burning Tree Golf Club—a potential new golf nut strode onto the course and got hooked. President Lyndon B. Johnson had such a swinging good time on the links, as a matter of fact, that he went out again three more times in 10 days. Using a golf cart only for the uphill holes, the second most famous cured cardiac patient proved to be a strong hitter, but the exact direction of his shots was not always certain.