The first Broadway Show League Golf Tournament took place earlier this month in Emerson, N.J., and the winner, with a 79, was CBS technician Jack Mahony. The stars shone only faintly. "I'm enthusiastically mediocre," said Don Porter of Plaza Suite, turning in—enthusiastically—a score of 96. "I learned to play in a four-day tournament five years ago," said Tom Poston, explaining a phenomenal 84, and Jerry Orbach of Promises, Promises said of his 121, "It was all right, for somebody who doesn't play. I've only played twice before, and the last time was 10 years ago. I like the game, but I'm a pool player...I'll play golf again, but maybe next time they'll let me kneel down on the greens and use the putter like a cue stick." Oh no they won't. In 1895 one Richard Peters tried using a cue stick for a putter, and the whole bit has been illegal ever since.

The Angier Biddle Dukes are not only skiers, golfers and tennis players, they are bicyclists as well, with nine machines around the London house alone. Says Mrs. Duke, "In Denmark [where her husband was until last spring the U.S. ambassador] we bicycled all over the place, but they don't seem to have the same respect for cyclists here. You have to stick to the roads and not stray onto the footpath. Soon after we arrived, we were bicycling in Hyde Park, having a marvelous time weaving in and out around the pedestrians, dogs, baby carriages and trees, when we were stopped by a bobby." As for the photograph of Mr. and Mrs. Duke with son Biddle, it was no invasion of family privacy. "Purely for publicity," says Mrs. Duke triumphantly. "I made them take it." The accompanying interview in newspapers abroad turned into a deft plug for her fierce campaign in London for the reelection of Mayor John Lindsay (another bicycle fan) back in New York City.

Jets-Mets fan Jacqueline Susann made it home from the book fair in Frankfurt, Germany just in time to go berserk with the rest of New York over the Mets' victory in the Series, and after settling down she reminisced a bit about her own life in sport, which began in Philadelphia. "I used to play hockey at school." she recalled. "Field hockey, and then we discovered hockey on roller skates. We played in the street, and you know what was the best puck of all? A rubber heel—we used to go to the shoemaker and get an old rubber heel. Later the boys in shop would make us ones out of wood and we used the rubber heels to play potsy—you know potsy." It was golf that almost got her, however. The year she took it up, 1954, she made a hole in one. "My card was signed by four witnesses, including Jan Murray and Jimmy Demaret," she says. "I was acting then, and I almost gave it up to hit the tournament trail. I'd get buckets of balls and hit them until I had blisters, and I was furious, you know, that they hadn't put a golf club in my hands when I was 8." Miss Susann apparently burned herself out, going at it so intensely, for she now shoots around 105, 106. The world may have lost a great golfer, but, then, it gained The Love Machine.

Ten-year-old Ronald Ryhal Jr. of Chili, N.Y. had been getting a lot of static from classmates about his freckles, and finally a teacher's aid, Mrs. Alvin Bauer, pointed out that lots of people had freckles. "But no football players," Ronald said gloomily. Mrs. Bauer had heard the names of two football-playing persons, a Joe Namath and an O.J. Simpson, and she decided to put the problem to O.J., Buffalo being closer to Chili, N.Y. than Manhattan is. Ronnie signed the letter. In due time an answer came back. "Dear Ronnie, O.J. Simpson asked me to write because he heard you didn't believe any professional football players have freckles. I do, and I have played pro football for 13 years, and so do several players I know. You must learn, as so many people have...that it isn't what you look like that matters in life...people don't like you for your face. They like you for what's inside—your honesty, courage, determination and other good qualities.... Be good, try hard and learn to laugh. From your friend, Jack Kemp."

"Now Available," went the ad in The New York Times, "Tom Seaver, America's top athlete and sports personality. Plus—Nancy Seaver, Tom's lovely wife, for those situations that call for young Mrs. America or husband and wife sales appeal." Mattgo Enterprises, Inc., which placed the ad, proves to be absolutely in earnest. Matt Merola and Paul Goetz are personal managers of a number of athletes. Cleon Jones, Roy White, Bob Griese and George Sauer Jr. among them ("George is still writing his novel," Merola remarks of the latter, "and is so busy that our relations with him are more social than businesslike"). The purpose of the ad was to remind large companies that the baseball season was almost over and to let them know how to get in touch with the Seavers. How did the ad pull? Fine, except for some jerk who called to say the Mets were going to lose.


Eagle (-2)
Birdie (-1)
Bogey (+1)
Double Bogey (+2)