Contusions and abrasions were the order of the night on the Tonight show recently when host Johnny Carson came on stage somewhat battered from his tries at eight of the 10 events with decathlon Olympic gold-medal winner Bill Toomey, and High Jumper Dick Fosbury, who also won a gold, left the stage somewhat the worse for wear after a nasty spill. During a rehearsal jump Fosbury made it comfortably over a bar set at 6'4", but between the run-through and real-life taping zealous grips nipped in to buff the stage's vinyl tile. Fretting and faltering as always, Fosbury finally made his run at the bar and slipped, going down like W. C. Fields hitting a greased bowling lane. "That was the real Fosbury flop," said the Oregon flier, after which the bar was lowered, the tiles removed and he did that crazy backward thing of his. Carson? Toomey ran him into the ground—literally—in the 100-meter dash. "Here's Johnny" responded to his opening curtain call with scraped hands and knees.
President-Elect Richard Nixon and Vice-President Non-Elect Edmund Muskie do have one thing in common. They are both only fair golfers who nevertheless have made holes in one. Muskie's was a No. 5 iron shot on the 153-yard 11th hole of the Webhannet Golf Club in Kennebunk Beach, Me., made this past summer, which means he is in the running for a free trip to Scotland in January. It is doubtless with mixed feelings that the Senator finds himself free to go.
Rear Admiral Benigno Varela, retired from the Argentine navy, and Yolivan Biglieri, editor of an Argentine newspaper, recently engaged in a duel to settle a question of honor. Stripped to the waist, the two had at one another with sabers, and both suffered flesh wounds before the duel master, Dr. Ernesto Sammartino, called a halt to the proceedings. Who won? Never mind. Under the code duello the idea is to satisfy one's honor, not necessarily to win. Or, as Avery Brundage might put it, to participate.
"I have cheated a bit," Princess Grace announced forth-rightly, but what's the good of being a princess if you are allowed no special privileges? She and Prince Rainier turned up as surprise contenders in this year's London-Brighton run for veteran cars. Their 1903 De Dion Bouton had been shown as entered by one Richard Bryant, but on the day of the rally it proved to be Prince Rainier, with Grace and their children, who intended to drive. Rainier and Albert went the 52-mile distance, but the weather was cold, and Grace, Caroline and Stephanie opted out in the London suburbs, rejoining the men for the end of the run. Racing driver Stirling Moss was also entered, with one of the most powerful cars in the field, a 60-hp Mercedes, but Mr. Derek Horsfield of Halifax arrived first in Brighton, in an 1898 De Dion Bouton tricycle.
California Featherweight Frankie Crawford's manager is TV hero Bob Conrad, who has longed all his life to fight professionally. It is a little late now, so Conrad, at 33, keeps fit by boxing some 20 rounds a week and mixing it up with his fighter between shooting scenes of Wild, Wild West. Conrad bought Crawford's contract and passed the California manager's test, answering 88 of the 90 questions correctly, but three days later his fighter flunked. He lost the state featherweight title to Dwight Hawkins in the eighth.
The elections were a mixed bag for onetime athletes. Former Kansas State basketball star Rick Harman failed to unseat Democratic Governor Robert Docking of Kansas, and oldtime Braves Shortstop Johnny Logan was defeated in the race for Milwaukee sheriff. But former Olympic decathlon star and current California Republican Bob Mathias won another term in the U.S. Congress, and ex-Dodger Mickey Owen, who on Oct. 5, 1941 dropped the ball, was re-elected on Nov. 5, 1968 sheriff of Greene County, Mo. And a new face in the House of Representatives is former fire-balling Cardinal southpaw Wilmer (Vinegar Bend) Mizell, who ran as a staunchly anti-Communist, anti-federal-spending Republican in North Carolina. His arrival in Congress is doubly ominous from the Democrats' point of view. What their House baseball team, which has already lost five straight to the GOP, does not need is a taste of Vinegar.
King Frederik of Denmark hunts five times a year, and on his guest list for the first outing of the season were his daughter, Benedikte, and son-in-law, Prince Richard. The King of Denmark has hunting rights in all the state forests of Denmark, but the game shot on a royal hunt belongs to the state and the local forester. The day's bag is put up for public sale, and if his majesty would like for dinner what he shot in the afternoon, noblesse (and the law) oblige that he buy it back.