OCTOBER 27 UPDATE
COMMITMENTS
Amanda Shaw has verbally committed to Rutgers University. Amanda is the centerfielder for the USA Athletics.
Katie Mathis, SS - OF, KC Xtreme to Rockhurst University, KC, MO.
Meghan Morese, California Cruisers, Catcher - Verbal to Villanova
SPY’S OUTER ORBIT
Our reports on the World University games are being widely read in Australia, according to email we’ve received. The Australian federation is reprinting our reports on its web site and cross-linking with SPY.
CORRECTION: Frank Selvy
The San Francisco Dons, who won two consecutive national championships, did indeed play at the 1954 Oklahoma City All-College Tournament (which I mislabeled the College All-Star Tournament) and were led by Bill Russell.
Phil Mumma offered this corrected account re Selvy:
With regard to "Bob" Selvy, I know that you meant
Frank Selvy, who played at Furman through 1954. The
61 points that you referred to his scoring was no
accomplishment at all for Selvy. On Feb. 13, 1954, he
became the only player in NCAA history to score 100
points in a game between two Division 1 opponents when
he scored an even 100 against tiny Newbury College.
Furman held a 50th anniversary commemoration of the
event earlier this year. Selvy later enjoyed a
nine-year NBA career, primarily with the Minneapolis
and L.A. Lakers. Jones, Russell and Selvy are all
members of the basketball Hall of Fame.
2008
While the softball world is looking forward to the Beijing Olympics in 2008, another event will have great impact on Europe, especially the world of motorsports.
The announcement that BMW, DaimlerChrysler, Renault and Ferrari, the grand marque of open wheel racing, may leave Formula One for a new league is momentous.
To the European racing public, and Formula One aficionados in several countries, names like Nurburgring, Mille Miglia, Targa Floria, Brands Hatch, and Le Mans are every bit as familiar as Talladega, Daytona, Rockingham and Martinsville are to NASCAR fans.
In the 1970’s, when I was in Europe much of the time, I decided that my presence at Formula One events was essential to better relations with Europe. I shot craps with some of the Ferrari crew at Monte Carlo’s famed casino, all night it seemed, then got up at 6am to join a mass of people who were vying for an opportunity to drive the course – Monte Carlo is one of the last true street races – in our own cars to warm up the track – at very moderate speeds. Not really a big deal, but impressed a Paris-based correspondent for CBS. Great race by the real drivers. Then, a year later, off to Le Mans. Les "24 Heures Camions.” To impress a redhead, I told the manager I wanted desperately to drive the track – but the bribe I offered for an after-hours low-speed spin off-season was not comparable to the manager losing his job. (I had a fast car yet wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to say yes or no to my foolhardy request, though the lady thought highly of me for trying.) We did get to walk on it, and the incurable romantic I am, I could hear the roar of mighty engines built by Porsche, BRM…However, one close-up look at that track and its challenges convinced me I was infinitely better off walking, relieved I did not have to act out the bravado shown the woman. Nothing but admiration for men (and women) who strap themselves into these molded cocoons and put their lives on a very fast track. Made me appreciate some thoughts attributed to Enzo Ferrari. All men can drive cars. A very few men are qualified to drive Formula One. Even fewer, very special men, can become champions.
Having decided I lacked the skills and training to drive race cars, I decided that winter to work on my skiing and dared to dream I might try the glamor slopes. Alas, I wiped out a bunch of kids on a slope at Chamonix. Next? Camel racing in Egypt. No one who has ever seen the photos of me aboard that ship of the desert has ever confused me with Lawrence of Arabia. (PS: I actually worked in between these adventures at improving foreign relations.)
A SLICE OF AMERICANA
There is a Waffle House next to the Holiday Inn in Lakeland, FL. Country and Western music fills your ears, just as a good old girl pours you a cup of coffee. Three women, Southern accents and big hair, shouting out orders to a short-order cook who somehow keeps track of them, while managing an assembly line that is quite notable for its efficiency. Every appliance and utensil is located for mass production of a truly edible breakfast. Waffles, eggs, grits, sausage, bacon, Texas toast with jelly, chilled OJ, hot coffee, and lots of chatter – regulars and drop-ins get the same warm, folksy welcome. Hold the grits but the rest of the fare has nurtured generations of good old boys (and girls). Rather eclectic crowd, but country at its roots. The songs are about good times, and sad times, about bad nights and worse mornings, about women with more miles on them than a ’49 DeSoto, living in rent houses and sometimes sleeping in a car when money was tight. You know about these things growing up in a small town in Oklahoma – and the people in those songs are people you’ve known – and sometimes it’s a good thing to remember that a great many hard-working people in rural America will never have your education or opportunities. Walk away grateful.
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