Word: amateurs
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Like the school bully putting the new boy in his place, Pancho Gonzales has used his bazooka drives and serves to humiliate every fair-haired lad who quit amateur tennis to take a crack at his professional title, which Pancho has held since 1954. Fairest-haired of all the challengers has been Aussie Lew Hoad, a blond muscleman with the forearm of a weight lifter, who challenged Gonzales in 1958 after conquering the amateur world. As usual, Gonzales treated the newcomer like an upstart kid, routed Hoad 51-36 on their first barnstorming tour of professional matches...
...played Beat Poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti's poem, Crucifixion, and a lithe girl danced an "interpretation" to the cool-cat words: "He was a kind of carpenter from a square-type place like Galilee . . . who said the cat who really laid it on us all was his Dad ..." Another amateur actor played the role of Christ crucified: "I was framed . . . Maybe that lawyer Judas can swing it. Otherwise I've had it ... The Roman fuzz bugged me all night. They didn't like my sandals and beard...
Looking toward the 1960 Olympic Games, the U.S. mustered its best track stars at the National Amateur Athletic Union meet in Boulder, Colo., and found them good. Most impressive was the depth of U.S. track prowess: when a champion faltered, there were eager contenders ready and able to take his place. Items...
...pages called Broom; 2) a mistress; 3) the manuscript of a novel, soon to be accepted with the publisher's proviso that Loeb put back all the "a's" and "the's" he had deliberately left out; and 4) the friendship of a fledgling expatriate writer, amateur boxer and soso tennis player named Ernest Hemingway, who dubbed Loeb "one of the better guys of all time." By the end of the fiesta at Pamplona, Spain in the summer of 1925, Broom had folded, Loeb had all but parted from his mistress. His novel was still unpublished...
...tensions boiled over. Pat and Duff were back together, but the lovesick Harold could not quite believe that the great affair had ended. He irritated Hemingway by finding the bullfights less than rapturous, indeed "shameful" (Loeb momentarily rode a young bull's head, broncobuster fashion, in the amateur frolic). On the last night of the festival, they stepped into an alley to slug it out. "I don't want to hit you," said Harold. "Me either," said Hemingway. The hairy-chested novelist saved his punch for The Sun Also Rises...