Between relentless red-dogs on the field and yapping jackals in the stands, 14 lacerating seasons in the National Football League had made a philosopher of the New York Giants' golden-armed Quarterback Charlie Conerly, 40. Congratulated on a brilliant performance against the Los Angeles Rams that temporarily silenced armchair coaches who argue that he should be benched because of his age, Conerly thoughtfully observed: "When you win, you're an old pro. When you lose, you're an old man."

For the "epic force" with which he plumbed "the depths of the tortured South Slavic soul," Yugoslavia's Ivo Andric, 69, won the Nobel Prize for literature. The second author-diplomat tapped in two years (1960 recipient: French Poet St. John Perse) and the first of his countrymen ever honored by the Swedish Academy, the unassuming, owlish-looking Serb was Yugoslav minister to Berlin when the Nazis invaded his country in 1941. Abandoning public life, he settled down to write a sweeping Bosnian trilogy, completed The Bridge on the Drina, a history-haunted hymn to his native land, while it was still under Nazi occupation. A onetime president of Yugoslavia's Communist Federation of Writers but never a party member, Andric (pronounced Ahndreach) celebrated his Nobel award with a slivovitz toast to Sweden, hoped despite his frail health to make the trip to Stockholm next month to accept the $48,300 prize.

After conveying Caroline and John Jr. home to the White House from four months of rustication at Hyannisport and Newport, Jacqueline Kennedy hustled over to the Capitol's National Guard Armory (where she was to present the new Presidential Challenge Cup) only to find that Washington's 1961 International Horse Show had already been stolen by her sister-in-law, Ethel Skakel Kennedy, 32. Fifteen years and seven babies beyond the days when she was the scourge of the equestrian East, the dark-eyed, dervish-like wife of the Attorney General had at the last minute daringly borrowed riding ensemble and steed to enter the conformation hunters competition. But after skimming seven barriers with surprisingly unrusty gait, she clipped the top pole of the next one, saw her outsized derby sail across the ring and finished out of the money. "Ethel," reassured her black-tied Husband Bobby, as five of their offspring giggled and fidgeted underfoot, "you did fine."

After a jampacked workday that saw him in his office at 7:30 a.m., President Kennedy's personal representative in Berlin, retired Army General Lucius Clay, got away from it all at the German premiere of My Fair Lady, where he seized the opportunity for an intermission tete-a-tete with velvet-clad Ingrid Bergman, whose impresario husband, Lars Schmidt, was the show's producer. Topic of discussion between Ingrid (whose gown Mrs. Clay described as "a Grecian toga cut") and Clay: "only the show," which left German critics digging for superlatives last lavished on the works of Goethe.

Though Soviet Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, 27, finally bounced from his Moscow sickroom to a delegate's chair at the 22nd Communist Party Congress following a two-week bout with an undisclosed illness, the world's hospital rolls continued to read like Who's Who. In Vienna, Indonesia's President Sukarno, 60, successfully underwent the long-postponed removal of a kidney stone from his bladder. In Rome, as he approached celebrations of his 80th birthday and his third anniversary as Pontiff, Pope John XXIII was forced to restrict all audiences because of "a touch of influenza." In Manhattan, New York Herald Tribune Publisher (and ex-Ambassador to the Court of St. James's) John Hay Whitney, 57, was recuperating from influenza "complicated by a mild cardiac condition," and Humorist James Thurber, 66, three weeks after undergoing surgery for a blood clot on his brain, was "significantly improved" but remained on the critical list.

A man of special tastes--he likes to drop in on mental-hospital patients because "they have a refreshing conversational approach"--The New Yorker's macabre Cartoonist Charles Addams, 49, faced a commonplace New York problem : the midtown Manhattan brownstone in which he has lived for four years has been marked for demolition. After inspecting low-ceilinged, newer apartments and finding each time that "you go into a low crouch and could burst into tears," Six-Footer Addams dug in to fight off eviction from the four-room haunt that he occupies all alone except for a parakeet and a suit of armor. His one reservation about the rapidly emptying building: "It's getting kinda spooky."

Sulking over what he saw as "wicked and malicious" insinuations that his union was "more than ever under the influence of criminal and corrupt elements," Teamster Boss Jimmy Hoffa slapped a $1,000,000 libel and slander suit on 25 top officers of the A.F.L.-C.I.O. Jeered the senior defendant, A.F.L.-C.I.O. President George Meany: "Very amusing."

Artist Willem de Kooning, his attorney told a New York judge, was just too abstracted to come to court. "Once he starts painting," explained the lawyer, "De Kooning shuts himself off from contact with the outside world for a period of several months." With that in mind, the court last week granted a three-month postponement in a suit brought against De Kooning by an irate Manhattanite who claimed that the 57-year-old abstract expressionist had made violent contact with his jaw during a noncreative hiatus in a Greenwich Village pub. Damages claimed for the six teeth allegedly dislodged by De Kooning's blow (and the irate citizen's pipe): $100,000--or roughly the proceeds of four De Kooning canvases.

On little cat feet--with claws extended--the definitive biographer of the first Republican President took out after the most recent G.O.P. incumbent. Outraged by an Eisenhower gibe at the Peace Corps, snow-haired Poet and Lincoln Expert Carl Sandburg, 83, huffed that, for Ike, "the words 'socialist' and 'socialism' are dirty words. Very nearly as dirty as 'welfare state.' But ever since he left the creamery at Abilene, Kans., Eisenhower never bought a suit of clothes or a meal; he was never out of work for a day . . '. He's lived in a welfare state ever since he went to West Point." As for John F. Kennedy, prophesied Sandburg in a predictable Trumanism, "the chances are that he is going to rate as one of the great Presidents."

Already up to her earrings in Manhattan's endlessly proliferating chanty balls, New York Herald Tribune Women's Feature Editor Eugenia Sheppard made a tongue-in-cheek plea for yet another. "If it's a new cause that is needed," she meowed, "why not the greatest "of all our national diseases? And what a catchy name for a party--the Multiple Neurosis Ball."

The first cellist of the world, a self-exiled Spanish Loyalist who long refused to perform for those who have recognized the Franco regime, agreed to a concert later this month at the White House-where he last played in 1904 at the invitation of Theodore Roosevelt. Explained Pablo Casals, 84, to Host John F. Kennedy (whom he had endorsed in the 1960 election): "Your ideals have always been my ideals, and have determined the most important decisions--and the most painful renunciations--of my life." Simultaneously in West Berlin, a close colleague of Casals, Pianist Rudolf Serkin, 58, made an equally wrenching concession: his first recital in Germany since 1933. Said the Bohemian-born Jew who for 22 years has headed the piano department at Philadelphia's Curtis Institute of Music: "I'm confused, overwhelmed and terribly moved."

Floundering like a lost Lunarian through NBC's New York nerve center, a mild-mannered visitor to Manhattan helplessly confessed to a newsman: "I'm here to appear on a program, but I seem to have forgotten which one." The moonstruck ("When he starts looking at his moon pictures," notes a colleague, "you might as well go away") wanderer: the University of California's Nobel Prize-winning Professor Harold Drey, 68, whose 1931 discovery of deuterium was a key step in the development of the H-bomb and who, before he got out of NBC's clutches, was jollied into appearing not only on his scheduled radio interview but on TV as well.

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