Word: woodwarding
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With fanfares from silver trumpets, the 1965 Nobel Prize winners stepped forward to accept the awards from Sweden's King Gustav VI Adolf in Stockholm's Concert Hall. Gathering afterward to compare their $56,400 notes were Harvard University's Dr. Robert Burns Woodward, 48, with the prize for chemistry; Harvard's Dr. Julian Schwinger, 47, and Dr. Richard P. Feynman, 47, of the California Institute of Technology, who share the physics prize with Tokyo's Dr. Shin-ichiro Tomonaga, 59; Francois Jacob, 45, Andre Lwoff, 63, and Jacques Monod, 55, sharing the prize...
After time off to cover combat in World War II, Woodward returned to the Trib as editor of the sports department. He hired writers of the caliber of Red Smith and horse racing Expert Joe Palmer. He purged his pages of what he called "unholy jargon," banishing such words as horsehide, pigskin, donnybrook, grid battles. When a reporter wrote that someone had "belted a home run," Woodward whipped off his own belt and shouted, "Here, let's see you hit a home run with this." Such was Woodward's pride in his shop that when the managing editor...
Rude Interruption. "Coach" Woodward, as he was known to his friends, believed there were only four sports worth writing about at any length: baseball, football, horse racing and boxing. He was openly contemptuous of skiing, auto racing, golf and goono-sphere (his word for basketball). He loathed hunting. His stubborn tastes did not suit his publisher, Mrs. Ogden Reid, who insisted that he give more space to women's golf. Woodward refused. He was, said his friend Joe Palmer, "contemptuous of superiors, barely tolerant of equals and unfailingly kind to subordinates." In 1948 he was fired. "I was given...
After that, Woodward bounced from paper to paper; but in 1959, after Jock Whitney bought the Trib, he was invited back. He was not exactly penitent. His first column began: "As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted eleven years ago . . ." When someone asked if he had any hard feelings about being fired, he replied: "Time wounds all heels...
...health began to fail. In 1962 he quit for good to retire to his home in Connecticut and write an autobiography implausibly titled Paper Tiger. "I left the Trib in disappointment and rage both times," he lamented. But honest rage was more than half the secret of Stanley Woodward's success as a sports editor...