She had not called a press conference since the January day a decade ago when she announced her engagement to Prince Rainier. Now here was Princess Grace huckstering for next year's centennial of Monte Carlo's founding. The celebration will "include a great many sports events," said the Princess, including Monaco's third nuit de la boxe. Such units are moderately scarce in the principality, the first having taken place in 1912, the second in 1939. More customary would be the Formula I and Formula III races. The difference, as Grace disarmingly saw it, is that "the Formula III race will involve slightly less powerful cars but ones which make just as much noise."
Because he wants his son to play strictly amateur football (you know, like his professional team plays it), New York Jet Owner Sonny Werblin has sent young Hubbard Werblin off to West Virginia's little Bethany College where athletic scholarship is demanded, not athletic scholarships awarded. Hubbard, a freshman, is a split end, which makes his daddy proud. Sonny is a lot less proud of his sophomoric quarterback, Joe Namath (below), who again showed up in a public place (a prize fight) without a necktie. Rules are rules, said Werblin, dressing Namath down and up—Joe may go winless but not tieless.
The Navajo Indians consider themselves the aristocrats of the Southwest, and tribal law strictly forbids membership—honorary or otherwise—to outsiders. But when Olympic Gold Medalist Billy Mills made an inspiring speech at a Navajo school about his own boyhood on a Sioux reservation, The People (as they call themselves) were deeply impressed. Code or no code, they said, Billy deserved something special. So they gave him a Navajo rug and a silver-and-turquoise watchband. And they made him an honorary member of—well, of the Window Rock (Ariz.) High School.
That American dance craze, the twist, and all its variations—a prime example of Western decadence and rootless cosmopolitanism, no? Well, not anymore, not exactly. It's really rather helpful, come to think of it, said Valeri Popenchenko, a 165-pound Russian Olympic boxer, citing the latest Soviet reverse twist. In fact, admitted Val, "all members of the national boxing team of the U.S.S.R. do the twist excellently. For a boxer, it is a very useful dance."
How do former congressmen stack up against incumbent basketball guards? Robert A. Taft Jr. is not encouraged. Caught in a crowd of Cincinnatians trying to get close to the Royals' Oscar Robertson, Taft was utterly ignored except by a girl who asked for two autographs. "Why sure, but why two?" Taft happily wanted to know, writing like crazy. "Simple," said the shameless girl. "I can trade two of you for one Oscar."
Only a year after his departure from the St. Louis Cards, Bing Devine, they say, is now eyeball-to-eyeball with the presidency of the New York Mets. But Bing's 17-year-old daughter, Janice, has already landed the job she was after: cheerleading captain at Horton Watkins High School in Ladue, Mo. Accordingly, everybody within flinging range of her megaphone is advised to duck. Not very long back Janice drove a screaming liner through a picture window of the Devine home (losing pitcher: Bing Devine); just the other day she lost control of a basketball—and there went the window of a neighbor.
For those whose special weakness is buffalo stew, last week's news was pretty much all bad. The word from Tommy's Joynt, a San Francisco restaurant that caters to exotic tastes (and is a favorite spot for professional athletes passing through town), was that the basic ingredient was in short supply. "Ever since Billy Casper mentioned buffalo meat as a part of his allergy diet," said Owner Tommy Harris, "I've had trouble meeting the demand. Now even my source in Wyoming is running low, and I'm out altogether."
Proceedings in the New York City Council went along pretty smoothly until a resolution to establish a day of celebration for Sandy Koufax came up. Not that anybody there quibbled with the intent of the measure; it was the wording. After some debate the resolution passed, but not before the Council had knuckled under to Democrat Bernard Manheimer. The Bronx councilman, a New York Giant fan whose Polo Grounds are gone but not forgotten, could not in good conscience approve anything that called Koufax "the best pitcher in the history of baseball." Shades of Christy Mathewson! Shades of Carl Hubbell! When the resolution had been changed to read "one of the best," Manheimer beamed approval.
If the scars left by last summer's riots in Los Angeles—not to mention Juan Marichal's bat—are ever healed, part of the credit will belong to Dodger Catcher John Roseboro, who has gone on duty with the Los Angeles police (below). As a member of the force's community relations program, Roseboro will have a chance to apply his long-standing interest in police work—as well as the practical knowledge he has gained living in southwest Los Angeles on the fringe of the Watts riot area.