Earlene Brown, who stands 5 feet 9, weighs 240 pounds and holds the U.S. women's shot-put record, has diverted her ample talents into the professional roller derby circuit (below). Bodies are scattering like tenpins. In brief, Earlene, who first discovered her strength in grammar school when her teacher made her go play with the boys because she kept knocking the tetherball off its tether, is a great success. "The Man up there made me big," says Earlene. "Now maybe this size of mine will make me a little money."
Although the world's most notorious former heavyweight champion is still highly visible in the quickie version of Harlow, many exhibitors—in view of recent developments—have dropped his name from the movie's billings. The more imaginative, however, have updated their marquees. One midwestern theater, for example, advertises: "See Sonny Liston—on his feet."
The decline that has left Britain less Great reached its nadir. Robin Hood tried to enter an archery tournament near his home town and was rejected. Robin, a dead shot at 30 paces, was barred from the English Midland Archery Championships in Leamington because the age limit is 18 and he was only 17. The young yeoman masked his disappointment and politely answered the obvious question of the curious: Is he related? "I don't know," said Robin Hood, "but legend says he was born at Locksley, only a few miles from my home. I suppose I could be."
Baseball's recent draft of free agents missed a good one, but the disappointed prospect is not giving up yet. In the best Jim Brosnan tradition, The Sporting News carried the following advertisement, complete with photograph:
June 27, 1965
Leroy (Satchel) Paige
America's Pitching Legend
Available for Personal
and Pitching Assignments
Your Baseball Team
Notice that September and October are not mentioned. Obviously, ol' Satch expects to be picked up for some team's pennant drive.
There must be simpler ways to improve your golf, but if you've tried everything else—advises a prominent British medical man—you might try pregnancy. Dr. John D. Flew, former dean o¬£ London Hospital Medical College and a strong advocate of moderate exercise for mothers-to-be, discovered this remedy quite accidentally. Writing for a British medical journal, he explained, "I have got in the habit of advising pregnant golfers not to take a full swing and to leave their wooden clubs home. Many, I find, score better than ever before."
Boston Outfielder 'n' Rock 'n' Roller Tony Conigliaro is currently hitting in the .270 range, which is no Himalaya. But he hasn't lost any fans—fans of his music, that is. Visiting a Boston nightclub, Conigliaro was introduced to the audience. "I'm going to count to three," Tony told the crowd. "When I get to three, boo me." "Now I feel right at home," he intended to add. The audience didn't boo. It cheered. There are some weeks nothing goes right.
"I'm weary," said Wayne Woodrow Hayes after 14 frenetic seasons as Ohio State football coach. "I need to get away from everything for a while." Since "everything" would presumably include football, no one paid much attention. But to the surprise of all Columbus, Woody caught a jet to Munich and proceeded thence to a retreat in the Bavarian Alps. "I may not do any mountain climbing," said Hayes as he departed, "but I'm going to do a lot of hiking." His startled staff did a lot of double takes. Still, recalling that Woody's last, dimly remembered vacation "lasted less than a week," his assistants didn't believe he could endure an announced three weeks away from football. "Not unless somebody's put a goal line on top of the Matterhorn," one of them said. "If so, Woody will manage to get up there—three yards at a time."
Fred Waring and Atomic Physicist Edward Teller are good friends and fellow residents of Palm Desert, Calif. They are also constant opponents at gin rummy. Gin semipro Waring was happy to give a critique of gin semipro Teller (also known for developing the hydrogen bomb). "While this brilliant mathematician plays his cards well," says Waring, "he can't keep score."
Despite their continued subnormal position in the league standings, the Yankees have not abandoned normalcy altogether. Now the front office is getting stuffy again. In one episode of an upcoming television series, Trials of O'Brien, actor Peter Falk is tipped off by a Stadium hot-dog vendor that a floating crap game will take place that evening. The locale will be the locker room of the visiting team. Yankee brass, ever zealous to defend the purity of ballplayers' reputations, heard of this defamatory dialogue through devious channels and promptly protested. Will the Yankees' injured outcry go unheeded? Perhaps not. Trials of O'Brien is a CBS production.
Southern Methodist fans were startled to learn last week that four members of the SMU football team—Halfback Larry Jernigan and Linemen Mike Moore, Harold Magers and Ronnie Merritt—would spend the summer in jail. The players landed jobs with Sheriff Bill Decker, a Mustang addict, as guards in the Dallas County lockup.
"Ben Hur's playing tennis!" one member of the New Orleans Country Club excitedly told another. Sure enough, a crowd of 300 gathering around the center court found Charlton Heston (below) locked in a doubles match with three club members. As he and his partner lost the first set and won the second, Heston displayed the form of a player who has a private court, which he does. "I keep in shape by playing tennis," said the former Northwestern football player. "I told my son to play tennis and forget football." And chariot driving?