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. — i JLog of a Constantly m iliaclng JYlan KspQ.Jjfy By Tom OReilly Vv xsfl *■# 1 JOCKEY KEN CHURCH — Had a consecutive Riding double on Saturday at Churchill Downs. MONDAY: Up betimes, tglad to be home after a week in old Kentucky. In the mail a copy of Joe Garagiolas United Artists high fidelity record, "That Holler Guy," sent along by Kay Norton Sylvester. According to Yogi Berra, Toots Shor, Stanley Musial and Casey Stengel, Joey, who played big league ball for eight years, is one of the wittiest men alive. Now I must buy a* phonograph. So, to the course, reading en route, Raleigh Burroughs amusing Mid-dleburg Chronicle piece about nuns, nurses and a patient listening to the Kentucky Derby, via radio, in a Virginia maternity ward. At the course, stuck strictly to my press box stint, skipping lunch altogether. Heard that Tomy Lee will miss the Preak-ness. Methinks Tomy Lee should be the source of much good conversational material this season, since his owner, Fred Turner, is a forthright man, certain to tell racing managements why the Derby winner will or wont be at their tracks. . Home by car and outside the old Ambassador, now called the Statler-East, on Park Avenue, met scribe Irene Kuhn, chipper as a bobby-soxer, while admitting shes about to become a grandmother. An old World-Telegram cclleague, Irenes column is in 24 newspapers. Soto dine elegantly, on steak at the Old Homestead, midst 14th Streets West Side markets. Then for a long walk through the Village and home to sweet Morpheus. AAA TUESDAY: Up betimes pleased to read that "The Travels of Jamie McPheetek," by. Robert Lewis Taylor, won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction. Anything Taylor writes — from his New Yorker magazine circus pieces to his biographies of Churchill and W. C. Fields — constitute "must" reading in this corner. Its juvenile, I know, but politics has prejudiced me against the works of Archibald MacLeish. Since the Pulitzer boys gave his "J. B." the prize for drama, however, I guess Ill have to go along. So to Jamaica on the race train and my car contained the usual quota of regulars — Ann Pennington remember when Ziegfeld insured her dimpled knees?, scribe Pat Robinson, mutuels man Sam Kimmel as well as the gabby waiter with the piercing voice. When Aqueduct opens and we all go by subway that waiter will lose his vocal chords against the roar of the train. Lunched with scribes Don Fair, Bill Conklin and Bob Horwood. Bill leaves for Ireland "to pierce the lace curtain" a Charley Hatton phrase next week. To town with publicist Robert Fulton Kelley talking the while of old Eddie Farrell, who just retired, and plans for opening "The Big A," which does not stand for Appalachian. So to dine at the Palette, on Bleecker Street, and home to read "Mount-olive," by Lawrence Durrell, the tale of a British diplomat that starts slowly but is worth the time. And so to dream. AAA WEDNESDAY: Up betimes and to the course, reading en route of the New York Yankees sad plight in seventh place. Howled at Bob Sylvesters observation, "Trouble with the Yankees is that they are beginning to understand Casey Stengel." Lunched in the clubhouse with Horwood, Fair, et al., and much talk of the small fields in the races, despite the great colony of horses in the barns. Is the NYRA operating race tracks or just training farms for big stables that wont run until Saratoga? Watched a fine two-year-old race, with all three of "the money horses" giving excellent performances — Bally Ache, . Tufanhai and Progressing. Was told that James Wood, rider of Jack Skinners Mighty So, in the fifth, comes from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. That was the scene of my pal Donald Houghs best book, "Snow Above Town." Then to town for dinner at Dorgenes, in the Village, a stroll, so home and early to bed. AAA THURSDAY: Early up and to Belmont Park, reading en route of the news deliveries investigation in Washington.- So to Max Hirschs cottage, ostensibly to interview the King Ranch trainer but, really, with an eye on "Vergies" breakfast. A few polite questions about Black Hills Preak-ness chances got me invited to the table where I really went to work on the wheat cakes, bacon, eggs, etc. . . . "Better take a long walk," observed Max, dryly, as I staggered out the door. Stopped by the Brooke-meade Stable to say hello to Jim Hilt, office manager, who said the gang watching TV at his house, Derby Day, nearly Continued on Page Fifty-Two OReilly Weekly Log | Continued from Page Nine died over the Sword Dancer-Tomy Lee photo finish. Walked over to the track superintendents office, where Ned Lord, the old Gro-ton grad, hitched a ride to Jamaica for me, with Joe Obliskey, the Polish ambulance driver. Joe, a Pennsylvanian, started rubbing horses at Rancocas Farm. Says his ambulance is twice as busy at Belmont, thanks to steeplechasing. Lunched with scribes Gene Ward and Bob Horwood, while Monmouth Parks Ed Brennan conferred with NYRA prexy John W. Haries at a nearby stable. In the paddock, watching Phi Flash being saddled he won the second, paying .40. Everyone concluded pretty Kaye Drake of San Francisco was a stage star, since one of the horses owners is Herman Levin, "My Fair Lady" producer. Turned out Kay is just the sort of girl stage stars want to look like. Graddy Williams, Phi Flashs trainer, attended the University of Kentucky when Joe Palmer, late scribe, was teaching English there. Watched that grand filly, Quill, finish out of the money, after getting off slowly. She was full of run on the back stretch but was restrained until it was too late. In town, dined in the Village again, ducking through showers to grab a New Yorker magazine before holing up over an excellent profile of Bennet Cerf. And so to bed. AAA FRIDAY: The mail brought a copy of George Houghtons "Confessions of a Golf -Addict" Simon and Schuster, .50 . Funny. Also from Al Wesson a handsome brochure on Mervyn LeRoys Hollywood Park, which opens today. Pretty. Enjoyed the observation of Milton Jaffe, Billy Conns old pal, on Las Vegas gambling: "A man with ,000 in his pocket wins a couple of hundred at craps right away. He quits right there, figuring his week end is paid for. But if he loses a hundred he may drop the ,000 trying to get it back." Now you know what happens when you miss the Daily Double. Worked all day at home, lunching out of the ice box. Delivered my stint to the office. Gabbed a bit with artist Peb, learned that a horse I liked, ran nowhere at Jamaica and I had saved money by staying in town. Strolled in perfect weather down to the Lobster Roll, on Bleeker Street, then to a so-so movie and home to the hay. AAA SATURDAY: Up betimes and to a crowded race train in "perfect weather. En route to the course, read of the U.S.A.s thrilling Grand Prix show jumping triumph at Rome, with Bill Steinkraus on Ksar DEsprit; Hugh Wiley on Nautical and George Morris on- Sinjon, going clean under the lights. In the press box APs John Chandler was asking, "Going to Baltimore for the movies next week?" Hes hoping Pimlico officials will show the press official movies of the Preakness, as presiding steward Lincoln Plaut did after the Derby. Elliott Burch was on deck to saddle Big Effort and an observer marked how gracefully he took Sword Dancers losing that sliced-thin Derby to Tomy Lee. Causing the comment, "He learned that from his father — a ■ great sport." Lunched with scribe Charley Morey, publicist Curt Weinberg and Gene Marks in a packed clubhouse restaurant. Greeted Eddie Burke, the old Celtic star and Diamond Lee Meyers in the box section. And now we await the 5,000 Grey Lag. So endeth another week of my daze. Tra-la!
