Word: byron
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...Byron from Brooklyn. One like Brando, as a matter of fact, is more than Hollywood has been able to handle, or even figure out. The big studios, which are capable of taking endless pains to exploit either a valuable property or an eccentric personality, have not yet been able to answer the basic question: What is Brando, and what does he have that the U.S. public seems to want more...
...that drips down his face, according to a make-up man, "like melted ice cream" (it caused him to flunk his first screen test ten years ago). But then again, as one fan tried to explain, he does have a kind of "lyric lunkishness-he looks like a Lord Byron from Brooklyn." Is sex appeal his secret? No doubt about it, said one producer: "He's a walking hormone factory." An exhibitor, musing about his own business, said: "He's everybody between 10 and 20 that comes into my theater, and they're really coming...
...Snack of Glass. When "Queen" Caroline met Lord Byron, even the robustest Whig was rocked by the resulting drama. Caroline dressed up as Poet Byron's page boy in a silver-laced jacket and scarlet pantaloons, bit large pieces out of her wine glass when she saw him talking to another woman. But Melbourne stood staunchly by his Fairy Queen, watching her glittering hysteria degenerate into madness. She died in 1828, leaving him the father of a half-witted...
...literally addresses the ball. "Come on, little ball," he will mutter. "Now git up there on the green like ah say." Snead lacks Hogan's machine-tool precision, but he is as durable as Sarazen, as handy with the irons as Byron Nelson, and he outdrives Bobby Jones in his prime by a full 20 yards. Like Babe Ruth (to whom his fans often compare him) and the little girl with the curl, Snead is sensationally good when he is good-and when he is bad he is horrid. He is never dull. He plays a gamboling, gambling game...
...above a sandtrap, rolled back toward the sand and hung precariously in long grass. On his fourth shot, with one foot in the trap and one out, Snead overshot the green and fell into another bunker. Then someone told him he had to get down in two to tie Byron Nelson. He snapped: "Why didn't somebody tell me this before?" He was so rattled that his game collapsed. He made the green on his fifth stroke, holed out in three putts that would have appalled a Sunday duffer, and pushed his way through the silent crowd muttering...