Back in 1971, one of my earliest journal entries was about taking a date to see Play Misty For Me.<\/em> The experience forever solidified my appreciation of Clint Eastwood as a cool dude, and I now regard that motion picture as the beginning of how he used his Dirty Harry appeal to negotiate with Warner Brothers a series of opportunities that would enable him to became one of the most extraordinary filmmakers of our time. If, like me, you have any libertarian leanings at all, you really have to admire a guy like Clint<\/a>. He\u2019s never been afraid to express his disdain for political correctness or those who shamelessly traffic in it.<\/p>\n— Not that there\u2019s any reason for you to remember, but last summer I daydreamed in this space<\/a> about my hope that a boyhood idol would eventually return to Central Kentucky (not as a mere beau, but as a performer). Needless to say, I\u2019m thrilled to learn that my wish is granted.<\/a> — The passing of Jim McKay makes me think of so many entertaining Saturday afternoons in the 60s, as we experienced the infancy of sports-casting through his distinctive coverage. A decade later, any of us who were watching in 1976 will always remember his marathon reporting from Munich, when his place in the history of television was secured. McKay and the late Roone Arlidge surely redefined the medium during those years, and, ever since, I\u2019ve been as equally fascinated by the technology and professionalism of sports broadcasting as I\u2019ve been with what happens before the cameras in a venue of competition. So far, 2008 has been a great year for upsets\u2014beginning with an exciting Super Bowl, and on through another horse racing saga that culminated dramatically today. Zito has firmly established himself as the preeminent crusher of Triple Crown dreams\u2014a class act, in contrast to the trainer of Big Brown, who, with his arrogant posturing, disqualified himself for much sympathy. Instead of partying with Trump in Manhattan, he\u2019ll be, as Marty put it, \u201cjust another sweaty guy in a horse stall\u201d tonight. On the other hand, one has to feel sorrow for the Kent D family and be concerned for the talented stallion himself. Yes, there\u2019s only one compound phrase for it: The thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat.<\/strong><\/em> Let the summer games begin!<\/p>\n
Johnny Crawford is best known for playing Mark McCain on \u201cThe Rifleman<\/a>\u201d from 1958 to 1963. Unlike today, it was a time when the quality of the typical child actor in Hollywood would raise the mental question, “Whose powerful uncle pulled strings with the producer?” Crawford was one of a handful of young television performers\u2014Patty Duke, Ron Howard, Tim Considine, Kurt Russell\u2014that were cast for their obvious talent. Throughout his run on the popular series, he not only held his own impressively with star Chuck Connors, but opposite a constellation of entertainment heavyweights, including Dennis Hopper, John Carradine, Martin Landau, Kevin McCarthy, Sammy Davis Jr., Buddy Hackett, Warren Oates, and Michael Landon. Trite as it sounds\u2014those were the days. The tube was small, but the icons were huge. <\/p>\n