If Bing Crosby and John Raitt meet during the upcoming Crosby golf tournament, Raitt plans to keep his eye on Bing as well as the ball. Seems the last time the two baritones played a tournament match on the Coast, Der Bingle substituted a smoke ball for the real one, and presto, John's first drive sailed off in a puff of white. His second went out of bounds, and he just quit.
When baseball wheeler-dealer Frank Lane agreed back in 1961 to become general manager of the Kansas City Athletics, part of his payment was a $13,500 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL. After Athletic Owner Charles Finley fired him months later, Lane kept the keys to the car, and Finley kept the title. The car has languished in a St. Petersburg garage ever since. Now Joe Brown, general manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates, has resolved the impasse in a three-team, straight-cash deal. Brown purchased the keys to the car from Lane, the title from Finley. No players were involved.
Youthful Jutta Heine (below), Germany's swiftest and prettiest Olympic sprinter, is still burning up a track—but on four legs instead of two. Silkily steering a sulky behind a smooth-stepping trotter, Jutta trains regularly at the Dinslaken track to qualify for her amateur harness driver's license. She hopes to begin competing in March.
Just a week after the Duchess of Gloucester reactivated a fine old royal tradition by falling off a horse, the Prince of Wales reclaimed the royal tumbling trophy. Being a new Prince of Wales, young Charles updated Uncle Edward's avocation, falling off a ski lift instead of a horse. The very next day, on his first run of the morning, Charles crashed into a group of photographers who had rushed into his path. Extricating himself from a pile of cameramen, the Prince was said to look annoyed. Then, on one of his next attempts, Prince Charles hit a mogul, fell and broke a ski. This time he picked himself up, smiled and said, "It doesn't matter. I can get a new pair." One would think so.
January 11, 1965
That balding gent being sworn in as new sheriff of Greene County at Springfield, Mo. was Arnold (Mickey) Owen, onetime Brooklyn Dodger. Mickey was a good catcher in Brooklyn, and there seems no reason he shouldn't be a good crook catcher in Missouri. It seems only fair, however, to warn the citizens of Greene County that Owen has a history of letting the really big one get away.
Pretty, red-haired Tracy Ingram, Miss Great Britain, was in New Orleans but not quite sure why. "It's something to do with football, I think," she said, knitting her eyebrows. When all attempts to explain the importance of the LSU-Syracuse Sugar Bowl game failed. Her Britannic Majesty's Consul A. B. Ball—hoping to put Miss Ingram on more familiar ground—invited Tracy to "stay over for the Sesquicentennial." "The what?" asked Tracy. "It's the celebration of the 150th anniversary of the last conflict between British and American soldiers," Ball explained. "We lost, I understand."
His hair now as white as the Swiss Alpine snow, Charlie Chaplin, 75 (below), still radiates comic ineffectuality. Shod in something looking suspiciously like sneakers, Charlie trotted out of his chalet at Crans sur Sierre, fashioned a misshapen snowball, then hurled the missile as awkwardly as anyone since Charlie Brown. Even 39-year-old wife Oona's coaching didn't seem to help.
Minutes after St. John's had beaten Michigan in the holiday basketball festival at Madison Square Garden last week, team star Ken McIntyre, a summertime surfboarding expert, was discussing other surfers he has known. Like accused jewel thief Jack (Murf the Surf) Murphy. "He really is a surfer, you know," said McIntyre. "I've been surfing with him in Hawaii, and he's pretty good."
Cleveland Quarterback Frank Ryan has almost completed his doctoral dissertation in math at Rice University but admits to a mental block when it comes to titles. "All I can describe now is the field it deals with generally," says Ryan. "Asymptotic-sets of functions holomorphic in the unit circle."
New astronaut Captain Charles Bassett hounded deer up and down the hills of central Texas. On their very first deer-hunting trip Bassett and his wife Jean each bagged a 10-point buck.
According to former University of California Crew Coach Ky Elbright, the rivalry that exists between California and Stanford stretches clear across the Pacific. As a U.S. Olympic Rowing Committee member in Tokyo, Ebright was much impressed last fall by the rows of chrysanthemums stretching the entire length of the Olympic course. An amateur horticulturist himself, he sought out the head gardener to ask about one bunch of bloom. "I have chrysanthemums in my backyard at Berkeley," Ky told the Japanese, "but they don't have the size and color of these. How do you do it?" "Sir," replied the gardener in impeccable English. "I am a Stanford graduate. I regret I cannot help you."