Boxer Cassius Clay-Muhammad Ali and Writer Norman Mailer, each of whom has established his preeminence in his own field to his own satisfaction, competed at San Juan for acclaim as world's greatest in another endeavor—hand wrestling. Both were in San Juan for the José Torres-Tom McNeeley nontitle fight. Mailer, a close friend of Torres, had seen Clay KO a picture of José in the San Jeronimo Hilton lobby and had rebuked him. "Let's settle this thing right here," barked Clay. So he did (below).
This is an article from the Aug. 9, 1965 issue
John McKay, Southern California football coach, is an avid golfer without much time to practice. The other day, however, he was able to sneak out to the course with some staff members. McKay was just about to hit a wood shot when aide Craig Fertig, last year's Trojan quarterback, stopped him. "Don't hit from there. Coach," Fertig said. "That's the ladies' tee. The men's tee is about 50 yards behind you." "Mind your own business, rookie," shot back McKay. "It took me three to get here."
In the era of the seven-hour doubleheader and the 45-minute inning, a 107-minutecompletegame is remarkable. But then Bill Paul, Cub pitcher who shut out Pittsburgh 5-0 on three hits and 76 pitches, is a remarkable young man. Faul, you see, has long been a devotee of hypnosis. "I lie down, put myself into a twilight trance and keep telling myself to keep the ball low, throw hard and not get tired," he explains. Besides being a licensed master hypnotist, Faul has a few other things going for him if a batter retaliates with the evil eye. A karate instructor in the Air Force, he has his feet and hands registered as deadly weapons. He is also a degree-holding Doctor of Divinity who preaches for the Universal Christian Church.
General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing once wore one. Every doughboy in World War I wore one. Douglas MacArthur and Dwight Eisenhower wore them. James Cagney, when portraying George M. Cohan, wore one. Lord Baden-Powell, Dan Beard and generations of other boy scouts wore them. Forest Service men, Rangers, state troopers and county sheriffs still wear them. But when an Army surplus store in Albuquerque advertised its campaign hats to present-day customers, did it ring in General Pershing or the Mounties? No. The store described the hats as the kind worn by well-known conservationist Smokey the Bear. Fame is where you find it.
Cleveland Brown Quarterback Frank Ryan, who helped skipper a Luders 16 to second place in a regatta at New Orleans' Southern Yacht Club, came away from the race impressed. "It's a lot different from reading defenses," he said. "You can't see the wind."
"I like to have different reasons for my parties," said Miss Corinne Calvet, explaining why she invited a wrestling bear as guest of honor at her latest gala. "I thought it would be fun to see some of the Hollywood musclemen test their strength against the bear." Only two men at the Beverly Hills poolside party volunteered for the fun. Actor Mike Carr went 15 minutes with Victor the Great (that's the bear) before being pinned, and "my guy Donald Scott" (Scott Paper heir) lasted 12 minutes. After he had bested all comers, Victor took a swim in Corinne's pool. "He's such a sweet thing," breathed Miss Calvet admiringly.
Joe Finger pointed to the twin pine standing in the middle of the 18th fairway of the Concord Hotel's new Catskill golf course. "How do you like that tree right where it is?" the course's proud designer asked Tommy Bolt. Bolt stared at the obstacle briefly and balefully. ""It's the perfect spot," he said, "from which to hang the architect."
Director Stanley Kramer, in Europe to complete French and German dubbing for Ship of Fools, confessed he had one sticky problem. French and German equivalents are hard to come by for a line Lee Marvin keeps repeating: "I never could hit a curve ball over the outside corner."
When Texas Football magazine sponsored a contest to predict the final 1965 Southwest Conference football standings, it presumably was not expecting the very first entry to be that of an Austin housewife named Mrs. Darrell Royal. Mrs. Royal's husband predicts that she will win, too. "She's pretty uncanny at predicting things," Mr. Royal says. "I remember in 1961 she told me we were going to go 9-1 and lose to TCU. Our only defeat that year was a 6-0 loss to TCU." Darrell hopes his wife is as accurate in 1965. She picked Texas to win the championship.
Comedian Jonathan Winters (below), an Ohioan who spends lots of time in California and New York, unaccountably fished for the Pennsylvania Anglers Club in the Bermuda Light Tackle Tournament and finished 22nd in the individual standings with 14 fish totaling 81 pounds. Since Winters" Penn pals finished 13th and 19th, his group placed seventh in the team standings, despite a plot by Mayor Jimmy Fox of Pacifica. Calif. Fox officially declared Winters an honorary citizen of California and claimed half his points for the California team.