Detroit Free Press from Detroit, Michigan • Page 12

mum Spartans 'not well' That's coach Jud Heathcote's assessment of his basketball team's chances for a Big Ten championship. Page Trouble at EMU Ray Scott's Hurons aren't winning and his job as basketball coach may be in jeopardy. Page 3 Tuesday, Ian. 30, 1379 SPORTS PEOPLE' PREP TOP 10 4 HORSE RACING 6 COMICS 7-9 DETROIT FREE PRESS Tigers 9 mystery man Fetzer: Tve got a manager down there to run things By JIM HAWKINS Free Press Sports Writer Nearly 44,000 fans filed faithfully into the ancient coliseum at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull that sunny Sunday afternoon late last August. They came to once again salute Al Kaline and Bill Freehan and, hopefully, even Denny McLain.

They came to savor the memories of that glorious summer 10 years past when the. Tigers, their Tigers, reigned supreme. Little did any of them realize, as they sipped their soft drinks and beer, eagerly waiting for the reunion ceremonies to begin, that history was being made at Tiger Stadium. He is one of the wealthiest men in the state and the nation. He owns, among other things, one of Michigan's most popular, well-known companies a firm that is recognized and applauded from coast to coast.

Among his peers, he has few equals when it comes to respect. Yet for the most part, John E. Fetzer, self -made multi-millionaire owner of the Detroit Tigers, remains a mystery man. Who is John Fetzer? What does he stand for? How did he become the owner of the Tigers? In this, the first of a three-part series based on exclusive interviews with Fetzer and others, Free Press Baseball Writer Jim Hawkins will bring you face-to-face with the man who owns the Tigers. Beneath the partially refurbished grandstand, in the locker-lined room where the Tigers dress, the guests of honor were milling around, comparing hangovers from the previous night's shindig and shaking hands with the players who had replaced them over the years.

They, too, were unaware of what was taking place just outside the clubhouse door. While the players, past and present, laughed it up, and the paying patrons shifted anxiously in their seats, a tall, elderly gentleman who also had come to pay tribute to the 1968 Tigers made his way unnoticed through the long, lighted tunnel that leads from the locker room to the dugout on the third base side of the field. Frankly, even if they had seen him, many of the players and most of the fans would not have recognized the 77-year-old, gray-haired owner of the team. ARRIVING IN THE dugout, which had recently been repainted dark blue, John E. Fetzer, multi-millionaire proprietor of the thriving enterprise known as the Detroit Baseball Club, quickly took a seat on the padded bench and gazed out on the sunlit field.

Then it hit him. "You know," he said, turning to Tiger general manager Jim Campbell, who was seated by his side, "this is the first time I've 71 kIL 11 Poscas New Hall of Famer Lary recalls Lions' glory days never has been. My purpose is to lend a constructive influence to the operation of a gigantic and important institution in the city of Detroit. "There is no point in me, just for the sake of my ego, being seen on the field, parading and doing a charade, or doing a lot of other things that are repugnant to my nature." And, bland though it maybe, Fetzer's way of doing things has been singularly successful. STARTING IN 1930 with a tiny, bankrupt college radio station, which he had designed and built, Fetzer systematically put together an empire that today includes six television stations, four radio stations, some "large real estate holdings" in Arizona, homes in Kalamazoo and Tucson, and one very stable, very solvent major league baseball team.

He modestly declined to get specific about his total worth See FETZER, Page6D .7. ever sat in our dugout. That should tell you something about John E. Fetzer. He has owned the Tigers since 1956, and the stadium, too, until he sold it to the city of Detroit for the token sum of $1.

He has been an avid fan since he was a young boy, rooting for Ty Cobb and the Tigers of that era. In fact, he still cherishes the now-mushy, blackened ball and the flat fielder's mitt he used as a youngster. Yet, until that sunny Sunday last August when he came to the ball park to help the Tigers celebrate the 10th anniversary of their last world championship, Fetzer had never fulfilled the dream of all fans everywhere the dream of sitting in the dugout where their heroes perch. Indeed, until it happened, the idea had never even occurred to him. "It was quite an experience, actually," he admitted later, with a satisfied smile.

BUT YOU'LL NEVER see John Fetzer dancing on the roof of the dugout, in the manner of Oakland A's owner Charlie Finley, or making an ass of himself with a mule. "I'm not a clown by nature," he pointed out recently in a rare interview. "And I'm not going to be a clown, just because a lot of other guys are clowns." You'll never catch him in the clubhouse, taking a shower with his players as Atlanta Braves' owner Ted Turner is wont to do; or charging downstairs after a defeat to berate his manager, as does Texas Ranger owner Brad Corbett. In the 23 BILL VQC ON FBT2EP: 1IAE TiiSo WODtoT CWNSR is The oppexnz or the FLAMSoyANT BGO-WP OWNERS StENBEENNER, C4Aftti FINLEY TED TuPMEft AND OTHEOS Of TODA. Jl VvORWNS I If you have been around long enough to remember the Lions when they raged and were the rage of professional football which was some time back then you remember Yale Lary.

And no doubt you remember him the way I do. Under fire, that sonofagun was as imperturbable as a mortician in a holocaust. He was the most unflappable, maybe the least intimidated football player I've ever seen. By whatever quirk of mind or spirit his kind manage, he produced his absolute best in the gravest circumstance under the severest pressure. What more would you seek of any man? Knowing that, they put him among the elite in pro football history Monday, announcing the election of Lary, the fifth Lion picked from the club's 1 950s era, to the Hall of Fame at Canton, Ohio.

He was pleased and excited, but not really surprised. He knew that for several years his name and record had been under intense scrutiny by the 30-man board which all but carves the busts for the Hall of Fame. He was in Los Angeles, ready to be presented on national television during halftime of the Pro Bowl game, when I reached him. "You always hope for it because it's the greatest tribute possible for a player," he said. He is only the fifth defensive back named to the hall.

Two of the others Jack Christiansen and Dick (Night Train) Lane were Lions from his time, ex-teammates. The only other defensive backs in the hall are Emlen Tunnell and Larry Wilson. Wow, that's a more exclusive group than I figured," he said. Made defense look good Yale Lary belongs, no doubt about it. He was something different, something special, a multi-talented player whose kicking, the skill for which he is most vividly remembered, was merely one more job, almost a thankless chore, on the football field.

He was, in addition to a great kicker, a great defensive back and punt returner. Still, it was Yale Lary's punting that sticks most in the minds of those who reveled with the Lions when they years that Fetzer has owned the Tigers, he has set foot in their locker room only three times twice in 1968, after they won the American League pennant and the World Series, and again in 1972, when they finished first in the Eastern Division. The guys down there are entitled to their privacy and to do things their way," Fetzer explained. "I've got a manager down there to run things." In this era of flamboyant, omnipresent owners who seem obsessed with proving just how wise and rich and powerful they are, Fetzer comes across like a fresh breath of sanity. He has made a career out of maintaining a low profile.

Unlike so many of his peers, to Fetzer his baseball team is TOOK PVQ2 A CDUJsGE fipoio srxriai, without monbi, AND PUT AN EbhPlPE OF TELEMISIOH STATIONS, FOUR. RAPO STA7I0NS, REAL VXm HODIN6J AND TWE 7TSK, much more than a mere toy. A lot of people are in this game for a grand-slam ego ride. admitted Fetzer, without mentioning George Steinbrenner, Ray Kroc and the others by name. "That is not my purpose.

It Fresh Wade makes stop Virginia, Martina ivill head Avon tour's Detroit visit 4 i 'a 7i 1 dominated pro football in the 1950s, winning three world championships and four division titles. "Backed up against the end line with Lary punting," says Joe Schmidt, "we knew we had an advantage. His punting was a helluva thing for us." Here would come enemy mon-. sters like Gino Marchetti of the Colts or headhunting Ed Sprinkle of the Bears or the villanous Bill Quin-lan of the Packers intent on splat-ting Yale Lary against the concrete wall at Tiger Stadium. He never ducked or fudged.

By CHARLIE VINCENT Free Press Sports Writer Virginia Wade will never again be a jM-f 1 fir i able to recapture the thrill of that instant two years ago when, with Queen Elizabeth watching from the royal box, she won the Wimbledon Championship. The 33-year-old veteran pro from Yale Lary Bournemouth, England, remembers I think he had only one or two punts blocked in his entire career," says Schmidt, another Hall of Famer. "Kicking from the end zone, he invariably put the ball across midfield with enough hang on it to let us that moment almost as if it happened in a dream, with a detachment that makes her more an observer than the central character. cover the kick. He made our defense look good because he gave us room to work." "I couldn't believe, even then, that it was happening to me," she says.

It is what I remember best about the ruddy Texan Now with Buhe Jean King once She found herself struggling to beat players she had easily mastered in the past. "Sometimes I got to thinking, 'this is too much for I was nervous on the court and I found myself taking two hours to beat someone I should have beaten in two sets. "This year, I feel my game is better. Usually I come onto the tour a little off. This year, I'm much fresher and I think I'm in my best stride." THOUGH SHE is approaching the end of her brilliant career, Wade has no envy for the young players who are reaping the financial benefits gained by the old guard during the past decade.

"They have to be so much more narrow minded," she says. "I get the feeling they don't get to have a good time any more. We used to have time for fun, but now they have to give tennis all their time." As for herself, Wade plays today simply to prove she still can. "Money doesn't really motivate me, but it's a calibration of my success. And if it's around, it might as well go into my pocket as someone elses.

"To me, tennis is a business and a profession, but the thing that motivates See WADE, Page 2D her way to a tournament in Chicago. "I still don't think as intelligently on the court as I should, but if there's one thing I regret about my career, it's that I never had a coach when I was younger, who got me thinking the right way on the court. "If I had, I'd have been a much better player." Nevertheless, she is one of only three women (the others are King and Chris Evert) to win a million dollars during her career. She has played in more Wightman Cup matches than any woman in history and is the last of the old guard to combat the new wave of Evert, Martina Navratilova, Tracy Austin and Pam Shriver. WITH EVERT, Shriver and Austin scheduled to skip the Detroit stop on the women's tour, Wade and Navratilova, who won here a year ago, appear to be the women to beat when the tour comes to Cobo next month.

"Last year I was sort of average. I wasn't inspired," Wade says of her play following the Wimbledon championship. "I don't think it was a letdown after winning Wimbledon, but I just got off to a bad start early and the whole year wasn't quite right. I just didn't feel I had any spark. I just sort of got into a rut." again sidelined with an injury and Margaret Court in what appears to be a final retirement Wade has emerged as something akin to the queen mother of women's professional tennis.

I PLAYING MORE with her mind. than her body, she has made her way into the finals and semifinals of the only two women's pro tournaments she has entered this season. And on Feb. 19, she seems assured of being one of the top two seeds in the $150,000 Avon Championship of Detroit tournament at Cobo Arena. 4 A riimwml Free Press Pnoio Dy RiCmaRD LEE "If there's one thing I regret about my career, it's that I never had a coach when I was younger, who got" me thinking the right way on the court," said Virginia Wade.

"I do a lot more intellectualizing on the court than I used to," she said Monday as she stopped off in Detroit on His career punting average (44.3 yards) during his time in the game (1952-64) was second only to the immortal Sammy Baugh. 50 career interceptions Through most of the Lions' championship reign and for years after, he was their leading punt returner, a daring, dizzying whirlwind runner who darted and skittered, taking unbelieveably cruel shots yet never crumbling with them. Nor was that his real work. He was a superb free safety. His 50 career interceptions still rank him 1 1th on the all-time list even though teams were far more calculating and restrained with passes then.

"He had exceptional speed from sideline to sideline," Schmidt recalls. "He was a very heady player and a great tackier." For his part, Lary does not blush and mutter "aw, schucks." "What I remember best of those times were not the games we played the only one that sticks in my mind was the '53 championship game when the pass to Jim Doran beat Cleveland in the last few minutes but the closeness of everybody on the team. "I was talking to Torgy (Laverne Torgeson, lineman then and an itinerate assistant coach since) just last night, and we agreed there never was a team like the Lions of the 1950s. It was just one big happy family our family against the rest of the football world." While still a Lion in the early 1960s, Lary stepped into Texas politics, served two terms in the state's Legislature, then opened an auto agency in Fort Worth. All of that is behind him now.

"Back then, you only had to be a strong Democrat to succeed in Texas," he laughed, "but when the Republicans came along, I couldn't play football and politics, too. I dropped out of politics and I just recently stepped out of the automobile business." He doesn't say so, but probably he couldn't waste time with automobiles. He has an investment company now and he deals in real estate and oil and gas leases and production of oil and natural gas. Anybody would get a kick out of that. Unitas, Butkus selected for Hall of Fame on first try Longest season ends for the NFL LOS ANGELES (AP) The National Football League's longest season came to an end Monday night with the playing of the annual Pro Bowl, which matched the outstanding players of the American and National conferences.

The series that began in 1971 supplanting the old East-West Pro Bowl that started 20 years earlier was tied 4-4 going into Monday night's game. National Football Conference teams had won three of the last four, including a 1 4-1 3 decision at Tampa, last year. But this year's strong American Football Conference team contained quarterbacks Terry Bradshaw and Bob Griese; running backs Earl Campbell, Delvin Williams and Franco Harris; and wide receiver Lynn Swann, among others. The nationally televised game completed a season which See PRO BOWL, Page 3D I pi 11 Selection of the four by the board of selectors was announced Monday. Butkus, Lary and Mix appeared at a news conference and were to attend Monday night's Pro Bowl at the Coliseum.

"It's the culmination of something I set out to do when I was 10 or 12 years old," said Butkus. "Hell, I'd do it all over again. So I've got the bad LOS ANGELES -(AP)-Dick Butkus may need an artificial right knee some day because of an injury that prematurely ended his National Football League career, but the former middle linebacker of the Chicago Bears says he'd do it all over again. "My only regret is that after nine years my career was cut short because of the injuryf Butkus said Monday. "But I was very lucky, I was able to do something I was virtually made for." He did it so well he was selected to the NFL's Hall of Fame at the earliest possible time, five years after retirement.

JOINING Butkus as the newest Hall of Fame members were quarterback Johnny Unitas, offensive tackle Ron Mix and defensive back Yale Lary. Their selection brings to 102 the number of former NFL greats honored. See FAME, Page 4D Johnny Unltas.