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Show Media Moguls? Journalists, strap on your skis! The Newspaper Thursday, March 26, 1981 Page B3 Okay you typewriter jock eys. It's time to push yourselves away from your cluttered desks, dust off your old leather ski boots, and head for the slopes. The Park City Ski Area will hold its 17th annual Media Medley this Sunday, March 29. The gauntlet has been thrown down to area newspapers and radio and television stations to scrape together the best teams they can muster, and meet Sunday Sun-day morning at the resort. The race is scheduled to begin at 11:30 a.m. It will be held on Clementine, hardly the most demanding run in the Intermountain West, but challenging enough for most of the has-beens and never-weres never-weres in the news business. Teams will be divided into three classes: "A" for experts ex-perts and advanced intermediates, inter-mediates, "B" for less-than-advanced intermediates, and "C" for the rest. The race is restricted to employees employ-ees of the various media organizations, and is off-limits off-limits to ski coaches, classified classi-fied racers, professional instructors, in-structors, ski patrolmen and other such ringers. Although small in numbers, num-bers, the staff of The Newspaper has managed to corner a few awards over the years. Last year's crew took second place in both the "B" division and the "C" division. divi-sion. There has been a slight change in the rules since last year: each team will be composed of four individuals instead of three. However, only the top three times will be counted, leaving room for the inevitable DNFs. Media Medley watchers will be keeping a close eye on the staff of the Park Record this year. The Record staffers staf-fers assured themselves of a victory last year by entering their best skiers in the "C" division. ' Snowbird plans summer race camp Just about every summer, around the Fourth of July, someone in Utah will write an article about how great the skiing is up Little Cottonwood Canyon. The trouble is, you've got to hike a long way to reach the snow. But this year promises to be different. Taking advantage advan-tage of the new Little Cloud double chairlift, Snowbird has announced plans to hold a five-week summer program pro-gram running from June 1 through the Fourth of July weekend. Snow conditions permitting, permit-ting, summer skiers will be able to ride the tram to the top of 11,000-foot Hidden Peak, and to the new Little Cloud chairlift from 8 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. In addition, the Snowbird Ski Race Camp will offer instruction to intermediate and advanced skiers of all ages. Coaching the race camp will be Ken and Susie Corrock, former members of the U.S. Ski Team and both pro racers. Director of the camp will be Jerry Warren, Snowbirds' assistant ski school director. A special session for instructors in-structors will be held May 24-30. An adult-junior session is scheduled for May 31-June 6, and two one-week sessions for junior skiers will ,follow between June 7 and June 20. The cost for each session is $450, which includes all meals, lodging, lifts, coaching, coach-ing, additional activities, and transportation from the Salt Lake International Airport Air-port or Salt Lake City bus terminal. Rates also are available without lodging. Additional information on the program can be obtained by calling the Snowbird Ski School at 742-2222, extension 240 or 247. ft SEfl SHl to rGffi0fiib&r begin April 3f at jnn Don't be a Fool! Read The Newspaper next week. .Marit Glenne On the run to Philadelphia Marit Glenne, one of Park City's premier long-distance runners, has qualified for the U.S. Club Roadracing Championships Cham-pionships in Philadelphia. More than that. Nike is paying her way. Thanks to their winning performance in the Nike-Penn Nike-Penn Mutual Masters 10,000-meter 10,000-meter race held March 14 at Liberty Park in Salt Lake City, Marit and the two other members of her team are being sent to Philadelphia April 10, all expenses paid. Marit teamed with Enid Rust and Mary Jane Cannon of Salt Lake City to post the best combined time for a women's team in the March 14 race. In addition, Rust finished with the top individual indivi-dual time for a woman 35-40, with Marit close behind. The team will leave for Philadelphia April 10, compete com-pete in the U.S. Club Championships the following day, then return to Salt Lake City April 12. Nike is providing the plane tickets, hotel accommodations, and even transportation to and from the airport. by Richard Rarnum-Reece Sports Journal 4 'Eulogy" He took a certain delight in putting people on. I remember him in his Easter Bunny costume one year over at the Resort, skiing around the mountain throwing candy at the kids, heckling all the resort bigwigs; doing his thing. ...... , ,:!,!: . He was my little brother and family. Last nigtyhVd.fed corning over Parley's summit in his new pickup truck. They say he lay on the road a while, just outside the truck door before he died. I went up to the spot, and I saw the semi-truck there still parked, with the back end of the flat bed mashed in and the load of concrete sacks sitting there on top, immobile, oblivious to my loss; remembering nothing so fine as the defiant way he once dropped his trousers years ago in the Rusty Nail because someone had said no up-and-coming manager in the hotel division would try such a thing. But he did. "What do I care about a corporate image?" he said, those blue-upon-blue eyes welling up so beautifully like a star twinkling in the night. "I couldn't care less about making money." He was like that. When we were kids, playing little league baseball in the Butlerville league, I used to watch him on the mound, rearing back tall and then kicking his leg out just before throwing toward the plate. He was a hotshot southpaw and we were athletic rivals in a way only two brothers just two years apart, could be. Later, when I went up to the university on a football scholarship, and he was signing up-volunteering up-volunteering to go to Vietnam, he used to drop by the field where the team worked out behind Einar Nielson Fieldhouse and watch me, expecting me to be just as good as back in those days when we played on the same baseball team and crushed people, me behind the plate catching, Bob out there in front doing his whirlygig windup and hyper-space smile. Like most people who finally decide to call Park City home, Bob was a jock. Sure, he didn't win a Town Race and he didn't do much at the Park City Twilite Run except finish, but he was an athlete to the end, sometimes working out at the Alamo Bar when he should have been doing laps, but, nonetheless ready the next morning to break open a powder run on a brannew day. But, like me, he came to skiing late and it really was something to see how much his courage surpassed his technical skills. For a while, when he was hanging out with the weekend patrol, he used to scare people when they'd get down below him and he'd just let those old Rossignol Stratos go, fighting his way down the slope, just on the edge, courting sure disaster. I remember the time Jim Tedford and I were in the Nail waiting for a ski school clinic to start and Bob joking about how he was going to settle down and get responsible; how he was going to take the ski instructor's training course that year and start doing the "bend zee knees, $10 dollars pleeze" tango. And then we were out on the hill, Tedford clinicing and me watching, as suddenly this madman is skiing down the hill, falling all over the Payday run as the floodlight shined down on him, screaming: "These damn Park City instructors! ! ! ! ! If they'd have taught me how to ski I wouldn't be in trouble. HELP ME SOMEBODY HEEEELLLLLPPPPP! ! ! ! ! " Although many people thought we were the same person, we were different by extremes., He was always out on the prowl, looking to meet someone interesting to talk to He'ri bring home strangers at night to give th r.i a place to stay like some old matrons care for DO A TAKEOUT our complete menu is available for takeout Now open for breakfast Weekdays 7:30 to 10:00 Sat.Sun.8:00 to 12:00 Lunch 11:30-2:30, Mon.-Fri. Dinner 5:00-10:00, Mon.-Fri. Sat. & Sun. 12:00-10:00 430 lain Street 649-6900 stray cats, worrying about whether they were getting enough to eat. And then, when he was dealing with someone who had a self-assured grip on truth, Bob would delight in "Rattling his cage." "It's good for them," he'd say for me. "It's good for all of us every once in a while." I hadn't seen him for a few weeks. Such is the life of a part-time ski teacher and full-time writer who never gets up to the Snow Hut where Bob was the self-appointed "Social Director." But, he called last week and said he was finally tired of playing "social director" and he was going to do some more skiing and get ready for a summer of carpentering, maybe a little softball even, some jogging, and a few times taking groups of people down on the Colorado River. He worked for the river guide Tex McClatchy and Tex had a charisma that even Bob believed in. "I think he's one of the few people I've ever known who really has it all together," Bob said one day last summer when we were pulling our boats out alter floating the Westwater. "You can't bullshit a bullshiter. Know what I mean?" It was right after the BYU win over Notre Dame when Bob called. "God, my truck is running so well you wouldn't believe it," he said. "Why don't I come on down to your new office in Salt Lake tonight and we'll get together, maybe stay at Marcs?" Sure, I said, and I'd be happy to lend him $10 if he needed it to put some fuel in his new toy. I was looking forward to seeing him even though I thought he might be thinking seriously again about "rattling my cage" like the time we got into it one night in the Alamo and ended up rolling outside the bar into the street as we did our wrestling act. I remember losing my ring that night because Bob beat e for the first time left handed, and I thought if I could just get a better grip it would make the difference. But it didn't. He was strong as an ox. But he wasn't strong enough to get out of that last accident. He'd walked away from some pretty ugly rollovers before. There was a totaled Mustang one time and some serious Jeep four-wheeling that raised the hair on the back of your head. But nothing quite as ugly as plowing into the back end of a semi. It was the one wreck he didn't walk away from. I could talk to you a little about my grief; about how I find it difficult to carry on conversations with people; about the way they wanted to know something about his medical history at the emergency ward before they took his eyes, skin and other organs for the donor bank which is the way he wanted it and how I folded, unable to say a word about those Little League games or the time we were drinking wine at Redondo Beach and he started to cry, talking about the time he walked into that village in Vietnam and an old man made a move and Bob killed him, only to discover that the old man looked exactly like our grandfather. Nor did I tell those people how Bob finally said, alright I've had enough of this war, I'm not going to fight and they threw him in the brig, and how right after that he was out on a new assignment transporting deserters from one side of the country to another. No. The way I hope to always remember him is in that white and pink bunny suit, skiing around the mountain on a brilliant' sun-splashed day, cavorting with the kids and loving their enjoyment, their giggling, as if it were he and me again giggling as two and four-year-old kids, sharing a secret only two brot hers are able to hold on to. f 1 j u2Blll2fEJR6. O Raft S2SssssQQSiS ' I " ' yi . iw ' 11 I ! "i i.-vaf.V I ' , , -A m mbiiii""-.. . : - ' ,K I""" f I 'W i 1 h it i'. i j I" "I H H F: I ?, 'rt mm m |