As an honorary member of the British Deer Society, 24-year-old Prince Charles sent a letter containing an interesting stag story when he was unable to attend the society's 10th anniversary celebration. After the customary niceties—"I have had more fun watching and stalking deer than I should have believed possible"—Prince Charles got down to the tale. "I should be interested to know," he wrote, "whether anyone has had the success I had last October during the rut in Scotland in fooling a large stag with hind that I was a competitor for his harem. I advanced over a steep ridge with my arms above my head in the form of antlers. The stag took a look and came straight at me, only to realize his mistake and disappear rapidly with a look of profound horror and embarrassment on his face." Said Peter Baillie, the society's chairman, "The letter will be kept in our archives. The members were delighted with it."
"How do you say no to Howard Cosell?" asks Erich Segal. Cosell wanted the author of Love Story to carry a four-pound pack of-batteries and a microphone in this year's Boston Marathon, and Segal just couldn't refuse. The mike picked up some highly critical reviews of Segal's running, but one spectator did shout, "You run better than you write." Says Segal, who finished 526th, "Can you imagine what a blow that was to my ego?"
Jennifer Heubach, a pretty senior from California, won Wellesley College's 79th annual hoop-rolling contest and was presented with a yellow and white floral bouquet. According to tradition, this means she will be the first of her class to marry. Before anyone slips any hoops on her fingers, however, Jennifer plans to attend graduate school to study law and urban planning. Indeed, she had not intended to enter the race and had not even practiced, but maybe she didn't have to. Back home in Los Altos she ran junior high school track, participated in high school gymnastics and was captain and quarterback of her high school powder-puff football team.
No doubt about it, it was a rookie tryout when Dallas Cowboy Defensive Back Charlie Waters recently auditioned for a sports-casting job with a Dallas TV station. "They had everybody there," Waters recalls. "Cameraman, director, light man. Everybody. I had to write my own script and I started on it and stuttered. Then I said, 'Oh— —,' and got tickled. I threw the five-page script up into the air, and the pages just fluttered down like parachutes. It really broke me up, and there I was laughing and rolling on the floor.... Then I looked up. Man, those guys were staring at me straightfaced. Not even smiling. It was terrible. I mean those cats were really serious. You probably won't believe this, but I didn't get the job."
May 20, 1973
A free pair of Puma shoelaces to the first person who can guess the age of this athlete and his time for the 100. Nope, wrong. Duncan Maclean, who was one of the world's fastest sprinters in 1904 when he ran the 100 in 9.9 seconds, now does it in 14 seconds at the age of 88. Originally from Scotland and known as the Tartan Flash, Maclean trains for two hours every day at London's Crystal Palace sports center in preparation for an international meet: the U.S. Masters Championships for athletes over 40. His next-oldest teammate is a mere 70.
Harry Hilp, 84, a retired San Francisco builder and developer, really can't live without golf. Before being fitted with a pacemaker after a recent heart attack, Hilp insisted that the device must not interfere with his golf swing. Patients at Mt. Zion Hospital were startled to see surgeons Milton Pearl and Jacob Abouav swinging a driver in the fifth-floor corridor—to learn just where the arms would touch the body during the swing. Apparently they found out. After leaving the hospital Hilp went to Palm Springs and shot a 42 for nine holes.
Ex-Senator Jack Miller of Iowa and his wife Jerry, both rabid golfers, cannot agree about the disposal of Jerry's ashes in event of death. "I wanted to have me sprinkled over the putting green so I could watch over his game and improve it," Mrs. Miller said. "But he said, 'Are you kidding? I'll sprinkle you in the sand trap where you belong.' "
Marty Brown, an official of the PGA, is undergoing a hair transplant. Thirty-two tufts of hair, one-quarter of an inch in diameter, are scattered over his once-shiny pate at the rate of about one tuft per square inch of skin. Arnold Palmer took one look at the construction work and said, "Maybe we ought to paint a white line around it and call it, 'Ground Under Repair.' "
Hank Drammis, a former football player, now runs all his patterns on a sewing machine. He used to tear opponents apart at the seams while playing high school ball in Boston, college football at Northeastern University and in the semipro leagues. "I loved it, being face-to-face with all those guys, smashing them," he says. "I was pretty cocky." A year ago he got into clothing, employing 16 people. "My wife Vicki was the seamstress," he says. "I was only in it from the business angle, but I got tired of being ignorant when women asked questions. Like football, you need total dedication to be a seamstress. I felt very clumsy behind the sewing machine with my big hands, but when you get to know it, it's exciting. I mean, you sew things inside out, then turn them around and they look good."