The starting field of what may be the world's most grueling rally, the 16,000-mile World Cup from London through Europe to Rio de Janeiro (via ship) to the finish line in Mexico City, included a couple of first-timers, Prince Michael of Kent and England's celebrated footballer, Jimmy Greaves. Neither had driven in a rally before, but off they went last month—Greaves and co-driver Tony Fall in a Ford Escort stuffed with containers of orange juice and coffee and a supply of paper underpants. "We are taking many pairs of paper underpants," Greaves said. "They're easily disposable and help to keep the washing down to a minimum." As for Prince Michael, he is one of a team of three, with brother army officers Gavin Thompson and Nigel Clarkson, the first two of the Lancers, the latter of the Royal Hussars. Thompson, the team captain, is an experienced rally driver. Of his royal teammate who isn't he says simply, "Prince Michael is mad keen on motor sport."
On tour of enlisted men's barracks at Fort Riley, Kans., Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird decided to test his skill at pool, and on the break he knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket. "I guess that wins the game," Laird said. "Well, sir, it's according to whose rules you're playing by," said the major who was serving as his guide.
"I'm a Vince Lombardi fan all the way," says NBC's Nancy Dickerson, so no wonder she gave him her full attention at a dinner party given by Edward Bennett Williams. She was impressed by the fact that Lombardi's players have so few hamstring muscle pulls and similar injuries; Lombardi explained that his players do isometrics and other exercises to condition themselves against injury. He worked out a plan for Mrs. Dickerson—"exercises to get the blood racing through your system"—plus some work on an exercise wheel. It wasn't until later that Mrs. Dickerson learned Lombardi holds a patent on the wheel. "See," she said admiringly, "he's such a big wheel he didn't even mention anything about that being his little wheel!"
San Francisco still has plenty of Yankee fans, people who recall such local boys as Joe DiMaggio, Lefty Gomez, Tony Lazzeri, Frankie Crosetti—and Bobby Brown. Bobby Brown is now a doctor in Texas, but in the state of California there are 17 other Dr. Robert Browns, and recently one of them, a 6' 1" athletic-looking San Francisco internist, was stopped by a motorcycle cop for speeding. The officer looked over the speeder's driving license. "Say," he began, "did you ever play baseball?" Dr. Brown, pausing for only a second, answered modestly, "Some." The cop closed his book. "Hey, that's great! Boy, was I a strong Yankee fan! Bobby Brown! O.K., but take it a little slower from now on—eh, Bobby?" Well, ask a Dr. Bobby Brown no exact questions and he'll tell you no exact lies.
May 10, 1970
Howard M. Metzenbaum faces an uphill fight against John Glenn for the Democratic nomination for the U.S. Senate seat that Stephen M. Young of Ohio will vacate in January. However, his campaign organizers, heartened by the success of one of last year's long shots, have come up with a campaign button reading "I'm a Metz Fan."
Another candidate for public office is Sam Huff, who is seeking the Democratic nomination for Congress from West Virginia with what certainly seems to be the full support of his wife. To help raise campaign funds, Mary Huff offered her season tickets to Redskin games to the person who came closest to guessing the combined weight of seven ex-football players—her husband and six Giant teammates—guesses going for $20 apiece. The winner was Washington sports-caster Steve Gilmartin, whose estimate of 1,703 pounds was 20 pounds off the correct figure of 1,683 for Dick Modzelewski, Jim Katcavage, Bill Svoboda, Rosey Grier, Andy Robustelli, Harland Svare and Huff. A friend of Mary's, Ethel Kennedy by name, would have won with a guess wrong by only four pounds, but she was talked out of her choice. "I can't say it's not for a good cause," Mary Huff remarked when it was all over. "But what will I do this winter?" Well, how about planning to have tea with Ethel Kennedy on Sunday afternoons?
Singer Margaret Whiting is a student of numerology and a horse-player who applies her knowledge of the former to her activities as the latter. "The presence of the number two," she says, "is my signal." And how does this work out? In a recent week she collected on 20 out of 22 of her $2 bets.
Down-to-earth indeed were the conservation efforts of Sweden's Prince Bertil as he went about with a ragpicker's bag and stick cleaning up Stockholm's largest park. Stockholm's Stadsbuds, a corps of hardy old-timers who deliver messages, run errands, etc., and 20 honorary celebrity members led 100,000 citizens in a city-wide clean-up campaign aimed at making the public more conscious of the results of littering. It took Prince Bertil one hour to fill his bag to the brim with candy wrappers, paper bags, beer containers, soggy newspapers and rusty tin cans. Either Stockholm's parks are as dirty as New York's or His Royal Highness does awfully fast work for an amateur.