"Trust me, darling, I love you," cooed Cornelia Wallace to her husband, Alabama Governor George Wallace, as she pressed the accelerator and picked up speed in the 1972 Olds she was driving. Watching the speedometer edge toward the 90-mph mark, Wallace said nervously, "That don't mean the thing couldn't get out of control." But Cornelia drove them flawlessly around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway last week during a primal) campaign stop in Indiana. Despite his apprehensions, the governor seemed pleased as he stepped out of the car after the run, remarking, "I think I guided Cornelia through her paces very well."
John Bull would have been proud. Richard Crawshaw, a Laborite Member of Parliament from Liverpool, has broken the world nonstop walking record, stepping his way smartly around Aintree racecourse for 76 hours, 21 minutes and covering a bunion-busting 255.84 miles. The marathon stroll raised ¬£3,000 for charity. For that the right honorable gentleman certainly deserved some sustenance, like this egg-and-milk concoction, as he strode stolidly through the night.
Lamar Hunt, the wealthy owner of the Kansas City Chiefs, is having landlord problems. The chief di tutti Chiefs is building himself a sort of wigwam away from home in the new Arrowhead Stadium—a sales suite, with four bedrooms, four baths, a sauna, kitchen, game room and bar. Even though Hunt is paying the bills, and the list of guests whom Hunt plans to have around includes the Rev. Billy Graham, Jackson County officials are somewhat displeased with the construction, apparently on the grounds of overconspicuous consumption. "This might be reasonable in Texas," observed Jackson County Judge Joe Bolger Jr., "but not in Missouri."
Things like this never happened to Howard Hughes when he was living in Las Vegas. George Athans, a gold-medal winner in the world water skiing championship last year, decided the other day to try and get a peek into Hughes' suite on the top floors of Vancouver's Bayshore Inn. Athans harnessed himself to a huge Dacron kite and had himself towed across the harbor to within 500 yards of the Bay-shore. When he reached escape velocity of about 25 mph he rose into the air and was cruising along at penthouse height as he passed the Hughes windows. Naturally, the curtains were drawn.
May 7, 1972
Salesman Gregory G. Kirishian of Chicago was having a drink the other night at a bar frequented by Bears Quarterback Jack Concannon. Kirishian apparently got too close to the nerve with some comments about Concannon's future in pro football. At that, somebody knocked Kirishian down and stomped on him, cutting his lip and lacerating his dignity. Kirishian says it was Concannon, and has signed a complaint charging him with battery. Concannon accuses Kirishian of disorderly conduct. Nobody is accusing anybody of good sense.
Looks like a tough year ahead for the rookies on the bowling tour. The National Bowling Council announced last month that it had named George Allen, the geriatrically inclined head coach of the Washington Redskins, as one of its 1972 consultants. He's probably trying to talk Andy Varipapa out of retirement right now.
Perhaps spurred by the example of U.S. baseball players, Spain's bullfighters have threatened to go on strike. They aren't complaining about low salaries, but high taxes; El Cordobés, for one, owes the government $1.5 million in back levies. If the government cannot reduce its tax rate, say the toreros, then it should permit more generous deductions for such expenses as under-the-table payoffs to newspaper bullfight critics.
During a break in the NBA playoffs, TV commentator and former Celtic Bill Russell stepped into a Milwaukee coffee shop where he was approached by a gray-haired lady who inquired if he was Wilt Chamberlain. Russell said he wasn't. "Oh, dear me," she replied. "I do hope you consider it a compliment being mistaken for him." Said Russell: "I don't."
Author-sportscaster-pitcher Jim Bouton told his bosses at ABC recently that he wanted a leave of absence to run as a delegate for Senator George McGovern in the New Jersey primary campaign. But last week he showed up in Pittsfield, Mass. in the uniform of the Pittsfield Rangers of the Eastern League, attempting what he said was a serious comeback as a hurler. By week's end, however, Ranger Owner Pal McKernan said he had no intention of signing him to a contract. Bouton took it all philosophically. In any case, he said, "My wife wanted to see the Berkshires."