FLEE OF A KIND: Japan’s top golfer Isao Aoki was much in demand at the Open Championship at Lytham St Annes following his World Matchplay victory the previous year. Unfortunately, his English was not quite as good as his golf, and an interpreter had to be called in to translate his comments to the gathered press corps. Straight-faced and meticulously, the interpreter put each question to Aoki in Japanese, then translated his replies back into English for media consumption. The question-and-answer session was nearing a close when one hack urged the interpreter: ‘’Would you ask Mr Aoki how he came to drop a shot at the 17th?’’ This time, Aoki himself moved up to the microphone and in Oriental pidgin English announced slowly: ‘’I flee putt flom flucking flinge of gleen.’’ Ignoring the roars of laughter ringing around the press tent, the expressionless interpreter took over again and confirmed: ‘’Mr Aoki says he flee putt flom flucking flinge of gleen.’’
EAMONN HIGH: Irish golfer Eamonn D’Arcy was undergoing a press grilling after a particularly successful opening round in the Benson and Hedges Open at Fulford. ‘‘What’s your best finish this year?’’ asked freelance writer Gordon Richardson. ‘’Fifth,’’ replied D’Arcy. ‘’Was that in the German Open?’’ ventured Richardson. ‘’No, I was fourth in that.’’
LATE MOMENTS IN SPORT: Bill Shankly, legendary Scottish manager of England’s top soccer team Liverpool, was fuming on the night several of his superstar players arrived back at their Belgian hotel 45 minutes later than the boss. ‘’Where do you lot think you’ve been?’’ blazed Shanks as international greats Ron Yeats, Ian St John, Roger Hunt and Ian Callaghan returned from a drinking session well after the manager’s midnight curfew. ‘’That’s it!’’ he ranted at Yeats, St John and Hunt. ‘’You’ll never play for Liverpool again - and you can forget about international football as well. You’re finished!’’ Then, turning to his blue-eyed boy Callaghan, he added: ‘’And I’m going to tell your wife about you.’’
EMMY AWARD: Liverpool hard-man defender Tommy Smith had two pet hates in football - Leeds United forward Allan Clarke and his own skipper at Liverpool, Emlyn Hughes. And not necessarily in that order. When Hughes clashed with Clarke in a goalmouth melee and old squeaky voice Emlyn found himself on the deck with blood pouring from his nose, Smithy showed his true colours. ''Maybe that Clarke's not such a bad bloke after all,'' muttered Tom the compassionate.
CROTCH OF THE DAY: With Celtic manager Jock Stein in hospital, the Glasgow club’s No.2 Sean Fallon was dealing with press enquiries at the club. When one reporter phoned to enquire about an injury to Scotland full-back Danny McGrain, Irishman Fallon admitted: ‘’I don’t think he’ll make Saturday’s game. He’s suffering from a grain stroin.’’
TOM AND JURY: Tommy Docherty, well-known soccer wit in England, was always the first person to poke fun at himself - as with his version of the infamous court case in which he was accused of perjury - and acquitted. ‘’I admitted to the judge I’d lied on oath, but he didn’t believe me,’’ is one of the one-time Manchester United boss’s classic quips. Tongue-in-cheek Tom is also particularly proud of his dubious achievement as manager of Rotherham United. ‘‘I promised the chairman I’d get them out of the Second Division and I did,’’ he recalls. ‘’I took them into the Third.’’
IT’S A FINNEY OLD GAME: Tommy Docherty’s pay packet of £8 a week when he joined Preston North End as a player was £6 less than that of his illustrious team-mate Tom Finney - and he wanted to know why. ‘’It’s because Finney is a better player than you,’’said manager Will Scott, pointing to the England winger’s status as one of the world’s top wide men. ‘’Not in the summer he isn’t,’’ retorted the cheeky Scot, referring slyly to English football’s close season.
EIRE RAID WARNING: League of Ireland champions Shamrock Rovers were convinced they had the answer to mighty Honved of Hungary in the European Cup. The lads from Dublin trailed 2-0 from the away leg, but on the eve of the return manager Jim McLaughlin unveiled a unique plan for beating the magnificent Magyars. ‘’We’ll be concentrating on all-out attack…mixed with caution,’’ he insisted. No prizes for guessing who won the tie 5-1 on aggregate.
DON’T CALL US: During their 1978 tour of Australia, the great Welsh rugby union team of that era tried all sorts of devious methods to get freebie phone calls through to their wives and loved ones back home. The players resorted to tricks like asking restaurant proprietors if they could use the phone - and then calling the other side of the world when the proprietor thought they were ringing a local number. Prop forward Charlie Faulkner - a not-so-bright member of the legendary Pontypool front row - opted for a different tactic at the reception that followed the first Test match in Brisbane. He picked up the house phone, got through to the hotel switchboard and barked out his home number in Newport. ‘’To whom do I charge the call?’’ asked the operator. ‘’Err…Mr Dawes. John Dawes,’’ mumbled Charlie, figuring he could get the tour coach to pick up the tab. ‘’Please remain by the phone for a moment, Mr Dawes, and I’ll call you back,’’ came the reply. Charlie replaced the receiver and got back to the business of drowning his sorrows after a rare defeat. By the time the call came through a few minutes later, he was in another world. ‘’Ullo,’’ said Charlie. ‘’I have a call to South Wales for Mr John Dawes,’’ confirmed the operator. Charlie took a quick look around. ‘’He’s not here,’’ he said, and hung up.
GRIN AT THE DEEP END: To celebrate his rugby league team’s feat in avoiding relegation, Leigh coach Tom Grainey took his strugglers on holiday to Majorca. Some months later, his assistant Colin Clarke was reflecting on the break in the changing room. ‘’Remember it, lads?’’ he mused. ‘’All that sun and San Miguel…and old Grainey up on the top diving board doing a double somersault with pike?’’ With that, prop forward Derek Pyke chirped up: ‘’Hey, it weren’t me. I were out on a training run.’’
WIGAN’S BIG ‘UN: The groupie girl outside Wigan’s Riverside Club eyed up the town’s new rugby league hero - and liked what she saw. ‘’Hiya, big boy,’’ she said to burly South African Nick Du Toit, her eyes settling on the most personal part of the 6ft 3in forward’s anatomy. ‘’Tell me, are you built in proportion all over?’’ ‘’Listen, lady,’’ replied Du Toit in his clipped Afrikaans tones. ‘’If I was built in proportion, I’d be 12ft 10!’’
PIN MONEY: President John F Kennedy was playing golf with Chris Dunphy, chairman of the famous Seminole Club in Florida. At the first hole, the President hit his approach shot to within three feet of the pin - and promptly made it clear he expected the putt to be conceded. ‘’Have a go, Mr President,’’ said multi-millionaire Dunphy. ‘’A putt like that builds character.’’ ‘’OK,’’ sighed Kennedy, ‘’but let’s keep moving. I've got a meeting with the Internal Revenue (tax) director right after this round.’’ "The putt’s good,’’ said Dunphy instantly. ‘’Pick it up, sir.’’
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