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Show Sportstoculor Thursday, November 8, 979 Pege 8 1 M qjusHiifty dJgj makes ftaF & qimsilftty DmM, says by Bliss Fullmer It has been said that most of the fun in pheasant hunting is in working behind a good bird dog, and I believe it. I hunted pheasants, last Saturday, with my neighbor, Arie Doolhoff and his mixed breed dog, Spot. Spot, a six year old female was not wanted, when she was born in a high-clas- s Ogden Kennel. Her parents both carried royal papers, dating back many generations, but were of different breeds. Her father was a German Short Hair, a strain known for endurance and hunting skills, and her mother was a pointer. The Pointers are a breed developed in England, with foxhounds, grey hound and blood hounds as progenitors. Spot seems to have inherited the best of both breeds. She is intelligent, energetic, has an exceptional sense of smell, and has great endurance, and perseverence. Spots parents were neighbors in an Ogden Kennel, and were not programmed for mating. They were fence, but love conquers all separated by a wire-mesobstacles, and nothing so flimsy as a fence was about to spoil this romance, so Spot was born in disgrace and sold at the servants entrance for a paltry $5. Spot was lucky, in spite of her blemished pedigree, for she was purchased by a master who loves animals, and specialized in training hunting dogs. Arie Doolhoff, an imigrant from Holland, bought Spot when she was two months old and began immediately to train her. Unlike so many dog owners, who neglect their dogs, except at hunting season, Arie spends some time every Red, a registered day with Spot and her kennel-matChesapeake Bay Retreiver. Spot, aids in the training of two year old Red. Arie takes both dogs to a neighboring park every day, where he teaches them discipline and the desired traits of bird hunting. Both will work, halt on command, retrieve and return to their master. Arie gives vocal commands, 'but uses a shrill whistle in h e, Samra directing his dogs through their maneuvers. He often has an audiencee at the park, as he puts his dogs through their paces. On opening morning of the pheasant hunt, I observed several parties with their various dogs, and it was pathetic, listening to them scream and holler at their dogs, as we took to the fields. The undisciplined animals wandered in their quest for game, and even domain of the com strayed into my patch to flush a bird or two. Later, when I was with Mr. Doolhoff, I was given a lesson in dog control. Spot kpew what was expected of her, and was aware of her master at all times. She scoured the ground for a scent of game, and you knew when she was on a hot trail. She worked vigorously around us as we marched through all types of cover and terrain. When there was game, we were made aware of it, and she pointed if the bird was in hiding, or flushed those on the run. She caught one wounded rooster that could not take to the air. There were five men ahead of us, following carefully behind a single dog. Aire signaled Spot into the same area, and flushed two roosters, much to the previous hunters surprise. But Arie wasnt surprised for he knew his dog. There are dogs and there are hunting dogs, with great skill and good noses, and Spot is of the latter quality. After she was canvased an area, you can be sure there are no birds. Spot got her name when as a puppy, Aries daughter Diane, noticed the white spot between her shoulder blades, and the name became official. It is a simple she is, but name, unbecoming of the master-hunte- r Spot isnt concerned about a fancy name. Her main concern in life is hunting and pleasing her master, and in both, she is perfect. oM prasttficall jjoEses off by Leslie Lieber run for the money dash between Pittsburg and Baltimore took place a few weeks back, baseball became an ever grimmer As the World Series business on the field. Off the diamond however, the ballplayer's ancient and irrepressible urge to play practical jokes on his own teammates, rival players and eyen umpires seems to grow overpowering. Or, as Roy Campanella once said, You have to be a man to play in the major leagues, but you have to have a lot of little boy in you, too. Here are some of baseballs best practical jokes and the Practical Jokers themselves: The Brakemans Daughter Usually a players wife helps pull this. She writes a letter to a rookie in training camp, signing a phony name and saying shes admired him from afar and wants to meet him. He should stand on a certain corner with a flower in his buttonhole. Invariably the rookie falls for it and turns up on the corner, flower and all. One by one, in pairs or groups, his teammates pass by. Hi, Bill, waitin for somebody? But the really paralyzing version of The Brakemans Daughter was the one played on A1 Schacht, famed Clown Prince of Baseball, by his jocular boss on the Washington Senators, Bucky Harris. We were n spring training," recalls Schacht. I was a coach, in charge of rookies, at Tampa. Harris came to Tampa one day and told me he had two girls lined up for us. I got a haircut, had my suit pressed, paid eighteen dollars for a Prohibition bottle of liquor, and bought a said the girls liked Bronx bag of oranges-Bu- cky cocktails. I also paid for the cab, way out to an isolated Sudneighborhood. We go up on the screened porch. do want? Who and fellow a you says, denly out comes Bucky says, Is Margie in?! So youre the. two bums ! the fellow yells, and tryii to break up my home! a out he pistol and fires. Bucky with that pulls shot! Im screams, I ran three blocks and took off my coat to see it there were any holes in it. whole Finally I got back to the hotel and found the team including Harris laughing their heads off. They had all watched, hidden in a vacant lot. Bucky had saved my bottle, but by the time I got there, there with his hunting dogs, Red and Spot Aire exercises his dogs daily. A good hunting dog takes a great deal of time to train ARIE DOOLHOOF, wasnt a drop left. Hot Foots and Hot Seats Thousands of these have been dished out. Tony Lazzeri, old Yankee second baseman, used to drop lighted cigarette butts in teammates pants as they got dressed. Just about the time the player got out on the field hed suddenly find his pants were on fire. Once Tony touched off a handkerchief sticking out of Babe Ruths hip pocket and as the Babe trotted out to right field he left a trail of smoke. The Pocket Clip Tying knots in sweatshirts and cutting bottoms of high jinxes in every pockets are regular-seaso- n clubhouse. One of the most inveterate practitioners was Walker Cooper, star catcher for the St. Louis Cardinals and New York Giants. Walker claimed the world's record by tying 25 knots in one sweatshirt. He also holds the record for most expensive pocket clip. He cut the bottom out of Manager Mel Otts pocket and when Ott reached for his lineup card at home date just before game time he couldnt find it. Mel had no trouble in finding the culprit, though and fined Cooper $50 on the spot. The Trainers Bag Trainers are regarded with affection by all ballplayers, but the affection commonly expresses itself via a ballplayers idea of humor. Ralph Kiner, home-ru- n king of the Pittsburg Pirates and now a broadcaster, once emptied Doc Jorgensens medical supplies from his kit and replaced them with sandwiches. When a Pirate got spiked, Doc ran out on the field, reached in his bag for methiolate and came up with a brauschweiger sandwich.. Play Ball" Many a practical joke has been built around the ironclad ritual with which a big league game starts. Cincinnati relief pitcher Frank Smith used to drive the organist at Crosley Field crazy. The organist was cued to burst into a medley when the Reds poured out of the dugout onto the field. Every so often Smith would gather the whole bullpen crew and lead them in a premature charge from the dugout a minute or two before game time. The organist would break into her number, and grind to a halt in the middle of the third bar. Alone in Left Field star relief pitcher of the Baltimore Haddix, Harvey Orioles and only man ever to pitch 12 perfect innings, is the source of another beginning of the ball game story, whose exact locale he refuses to divulge. The whole team made as if to run out on the field, but at the last instant everybody stopped on the top step of the dugout except for the rookie left field, who was out in front and racing for his position. Arrived in left field, the goat whipped off his cap and stood at attention while the national anthem blared forth, with eyes of 20,000 puzzled spectators fixed on him. Kidding the Wrong Man Joe Garagiola used to distract batters by tolling them German and Italian dialect stories, treasures a time he tried to distract Stan Musial, famed slugger and proprietor of a leading St. Louis restaurant. As Musial stepped into the batters box in a tight game, Garagiola said, Hey Stan, about ten of us fellows are coming over to your restaurant with our wives for Stan the dinner. Do we have to make a reservation? Man did not answer. The pitch came in for a strike. Should we take taxis, or do you have enough parking space? Musial took a second strike. Garagiola was sure he had the Mans goat. Then came the next pitch, which Musial socked onto the pavilion roof. As he rounded the bases and passed home plate Stan turned to Garagiola and inquired, How do you people like your steaks? IMII Published weakly by Stable Publication, 5300 South 1900 Wait, Roy, Utah 04067, Article er lubtcrlption inquiries, phone 025-- 666 1 0 MANAGING EDITOR J. HOWARD STAHLE PUOLISHER EDITOR M. GLEN ADAMS ADVERTISING MANAGER BONNIE STAHLE - Phone 025-166- 6 CONTRIOUTINO WRITERS KEITH DUNCAN JOHN PETERSON BLISS FULMER GARY TOYN DAVE CARDWELL MONT ADAMS |