What with the retirement of Sandy Koufax and all that criticism from Dodger fans about trading away Maury Wills, Walter O'Malley could be excused for seeking some lucrative sidelines to offset the winter of discontent. At present, his son Peter O'Malley, the supervisor of Dodger Stadium operations, is studying plans to turn the ball park into an ice-skating rink and ice-cream plant each winter. A Japanese team, the Tokyo Orions, has such an installation operating now. If the project, which would cost more than $1 million, is approved, there will be a quarter-mile track for speed skating, a figure-skating rink out in center field, and doubtlessly, vendors selling O'Malley Good Humors.
On his 14-hour trip to Scotland, Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin lunched like a capitalist at Troon, the famed golf links by the Firth of Clyde, and then spent the afternoon at a soccer match between Kilmarnock and the Glasgow Rangers. Before the kickoff, he presented handsome glass footballs that he had brought from the Soviet Union to the teams' captains, while a crowd of 33,000 tried to make him feel at home by chanting, "Kosy-gin, cha-cha-cha." Later, after Glasgow had won 2-1, Kosygin declared, "It was a man's game, as opposed to the Continental style, which has no tactics. I think it is easier to be a prime minister than a first-class footballer."
When she was in New York recently, swinging skier Suzy Chaffee (SI, Jan. 30) spent an hour demonstrating two dances she has developed—the Downhill and the Slalom—for a photographer. Hightailing it around the streets of fashionable Sutton Place in a wig and a superstretch suit, she frolicked to rock 'n' roll music from a transistor radio and explained that the rhythms involved in each dance are the same as those used on the slopes. In the Slalom the feet should be close together, and there is much jumping from side to side. The Downhill (below) is not as controlled and allows for freer interpretation. When Suzy got back to ski camp, her coach told her that her interpretation had been much too free. Said Suzy, "Publication has got to be stopped. That's right from the horse's mouth. The pictures are not dignified enough. I think it would destroy the image of the U.S. girls" ski team, particularly at a time when we are having a fund-raising drive." The image looks fine from here.
Leading the Metropolitan Miami Fishing Tournament, the world's largest, is Boston Patriot End Gino Cappelletti, who until the other day had never caught anything bigger than a football. Cappelletti's fish tale begins last December when he bet Jet Owner Sonny Werblin a fishing trip that Green Bay would beat Dallas in the NFL championship. Two weeks ago Werblin paid off on the bet, taking Cappelletti for a day's outing off Miami. After only a few minutes at sea, Cappelletti hooked a fish. Halfway through the fight Gino became seasick and considered quitting, but he held on and after 20 minutes landed a 26-pound eight-ounce bonito. When the boat docked, Cappelletti immediately entered his prize in the Metropolitan Miami tournament, which only accepts entries after the fact, or after the fish, if you will. His bonito is nine pounds heavier than any other entered in the contest so far.
February 27, 1967
For two bits, anyone in Cincinnati last week could challenge Oscar Robertson in a dribbling contest, held for the benefit of the local heart association. Some 175 people, including Congressman Robert A. Taft, showed up at a suburban shopping center to try their hand at Robertson's game, but Oscar outbounced them all. Switching the ball from hand to hand, he made 435 consecutive dribbles in two minutes. Second in the competition was a high school student with 404, while Taft (283) finished among the also-bounced. An Oscar Robertson basketball and an LP record album went to anyone who could reach 375. The big winner was the Heart Association of Southwestern Ohio, which had a ball raising $750.
If Barry Goldwater looked grim during the Tucson Open Pro-Am (above), it might well have been because he had just been sued for $100,000 by a Phoenix man who claimed that a golf ball hooked by Goldwater in a 1965 pro-am broke his check-bone and caused him severe and permanent injuries. The plaintiff, Wilbur Allen, at that time a test driver for General Motors, charged he was standing 25 yards down the 6th fairway at the Arizona Country Club when Goldwater hit him. In Tucson, Goldwater wasn't going to the left, as he teamed with Arnold Palmer to turn in a fine net 60 and finish 12th. He did scatter the crowd on one hole and had to play his second shot out of a dry riverbed, but no one in Arnie's Army was wounded.
At Buckingham Palace last week, Alf Ramsey, the manager of Britain's successful World Cup soccer team, was dubbed a knight by Queen Elizabeth, the eighth athlete in recent times to be so honored. Says Alf, "I suppose I shall have to get used to being addressed as 'Sir,' but if a player gets formal on the field I will clobber him."