The News And Views

All Glittering Rewards Just Ain't Rubles

NEW YORK (P)—Ivan Ivanovich is going to the Olympics.

And the entire sports world is buzzing with gossip about what will happen to the Russian teams at Helsinki next month

The decision to let Soviet athletes compete in the international games puts the Politburo to its supreme test. The Communist leaders have held that their ideology has given Russia the world's greatest science, art, and literature

Now they are going to show that ideology also builds better bodies.

Is a Communist muscle necessarily better than a liberty-loving muscle? The Soviet athletes are being sent to prove this. And it's not a pleasant spot to be in. They must feel like old Roman gladiators, told to win or face the consequences--a down-turned thumb.

Soviet athletes take their training seriously. One report is that they keep in shape by reading Karl Marx all morning, and then taper off in the afternoon by wrestling live bears. Before going to bed they relax by doing full knee bends with a copy of the life of Stalin on each shoulder

They will be alerted to any possible Western trickery. In this respect they can get a few tips from comrade Mikhail Botvinnik, the world chess champion

Botvinnik ordinarily gets ready for a big match in Russia by walking, running and cycling. But he takes extraordinary measures to prepare himself for competition outside his own country.

A Russian chess expert recently described his strange methods as follows:

"Before Botvinnik plays a match in a Western country, he spends three weeks with a companion, working out problems while a radio blares in the background and his companion blows smoke in his face"

Soviet leaders must be already a bit worried about the possible effect contact with the Western world will have on their athletes.

And not without reason.

Let us imagine, for example, what happens when Ivan Ivanovich, a Russian weight lifter, meets up with Jim Biceps, an American contender. The first thing they do, of course, is feel each others muscles gingerly All weight lifters do that. It is their way of saying "Hello."

"Well, what will happen if you win the championship?" says Jim.

…I will get a foreman's job in my factory-perhaps also a Stalin medal." replies Ivan "What will be your reward if you win"--and adds hastily--"not that it is possible."

"Oh. I'll turn pro." says Jim.

"What does that mean?" asks Ivan.

"Oh." says Biceps, "it means I'll probably get a job playing Tarzan in the movies. I'll also start manufacturing bar bells under my own name, and a correspondence course in muscle building. Then there are the breakfast food endorsements, television appearances, and a book on weight lifting.

"All in all, I suppose I will clear $100,000 the first year."

"That ain't rubles." sighs Ivan, enviously. But he will wander off, a Communist tainted for life, wondering why he can't get a chance to play Tarzan, too.'

Once a horse sees hay it is hard to get him to eat sawdust - and like it