It’s a Wacky World and It Seems as If It’s Getting Worse

Is the world going crazy, or is it just me? Maybe it’s the heat. Please answer some questions . . .

Se habla Terry Donahue, anyone?

The UCLA football coach makes a vague and inflammatory statement Monday, and says, “You can interpret that any way you want.”

Many people interpret the remarks as a reference to steroid use.


The next day Donahue claims he was misinterpreted.

Will somebody please call an interpreter?

What Donahue originally said, in part, was, “In my opinion, in 1983 and 1984, Nebraska was not a normal college football team.”

He implied that the UCLA-Nebraska games those two seasons were not fair.


Hmmmm. Now what do you suppose Donahue was referring to?

Cholesterol abuse? A fear that the Cornhusker players were genetic mutants caused by exposure to radioactive corn? Or does Donahue suspect those players of being extraterrestrials, alien ringers?

If all Donahue meant was that his team was physically overmatched, that the Bruins had been out-recruited and out-weight-trained by Nebraska, why didn’t he say that, instead of turning a press conference into a clue-dropping session for a murder mystery?

But that’s our Touchdown Terry, always a wild and controversial guy.


Has the sun been pounding too hard upon Anaheim?

The Red Sox beat the Angels in 10 innings Sunday at Anaheim Stadium, and the fans cheer when Lee Smith strikes out Jack Howell for the final out.

Nice loyalty. These are people who would send an exterminator to Disneyland to get rid of the big mouse.

The Anaheim fans have cemented their status as the strangest in baseball. They are hauntingly subdued much of the time, and often unable to muster a majority of the house to root for the home team.


But they have great tans.

Do college kids have too much on their minds these days?

The National Collegiate Athletic Assn. alleges that Hart Lee Dykes, a wide receiver at Oklahoma State, was given $5,000 in $50-bills to sign his letter of intent.

How about it, Hart?


“It doesn’t ring a bell to me,” he tells a newspaper.

I don’t know what kind of wide receiver Dykes is, but I don’t like his chances on the history midterm.

Are we media people vultures and maggots, or what?

Take Mike Tyson. Just because he slugs his way to the world heavyweight championship while barely out of his teens, admits to a history of street crime and a thirst for violence, marries a TV star, sues his manager, doesn’t deny smacking his bride around, accrues vast sums of money, tries to give away his Bentley to a couple of New York cops, punches out another fighter at a 24-hour clothing shop in Harlem, and crashes his car into a tree, hey, are these any reasons to write about him?


You’d think the guy was newsworthy or something.

“Give him a break! Give him a break!” wife Robin Givens screamed at reporters and photographers who converged on Tyson’s ambulance after his latest bout, known as the Melee with the Tree.

And Tyson’s manager, Bill Cayton huffs, “It’s an injustice the way he and his wife have been hammered by the media.”

Sorry, Bill. We can’t help ourselves. We just sort of go crazy. Our egos are mammoth. Maybe it’s the steroids we use to sweeten our coffee. You can interpret that any way you want.


Why are we wasting John Thompson on a basketball team?

Am I the only American who has noticed a trend among our military people to sell sensitive, classified government secrets to the Soviet Union?

Who could possibly stem this outbound tide of American secrets?

John Thompson.


The Russians know how we would defend Europe, they know the deepest secrets of our Navy and our Moscow embassy, but they don’t know what kind of offense our basketball team will run against a 2-1-2 zone defense in the Olympic Games.

The reason they don’t know is that John Thompson enforces the world’s tightest security. Not only are his practices closed to fans and reporters, I hear the players themselves are required to wear blindfolds.

Thompson’s team will be working out at a U.S. military base in Seoul. It’s a wonderful chance to let our GIs get a taste of home, a boost in morale and pride watching the old red, white and blue squad work out, right?

Right, except that Thompson insists on secret practices, no spectators.


Thompson’s problem is a warped perspective. When he hears people speak proudly of “our brave fighting men in uniform,” he assumes they are referring to the Georgetown Hoyas.

Anyway, when the military base people protested being locked out of their own gym, Thompson finally relented and agreed to hold one open practice session.

Wonder which day the U.S. team will spend two hours practicing free throws?