August 19, 1984

DENVER EARLY last Wednesday morning, Otis Armstrong stood silent and motionless at a hearing in a Denver district court, listening to a judge explain the felony charges against him. Armstrong looked timid and scared, a far cry from the bold and powerful running back he was for the Denver Broncos through most of the 1970's. Just five days before, a Denver grand jury had returned an indictment, charging him with seven counts of illegally obtaining large quantities of Percodan, an addictive pain-killer that contains a controlled substance. The indictment said that by ''fraud, deceit, misrepresentation, subterfuge and concealment,'' Armstrong had obtained nearly 1,500 tablets of Percodan from nine doctors within a six- month period. Each count carries a maximum possible sentence of two years in jail. According to the Physician's Desk Reference, a standard pharmaceutical text, Percodan contains an opium alkaloid and can be habit-forming; the normal adult dosage is one every six hours. The day the indictment was made public, Armstrong admitted that he took, on average, 8 to 10 Percodan tablets a day to reduce the pain from a back injury that he says ended his football career in 1980. He also said that the pain could be so intense that he would ''go to the moon'' to get more of the drug if he had to.

WHAT should be the fate of the Long Island Correctional Facility in Brentwood? There appears to be widespread support in the community and among government officials for turning the institution or surrounding buildings into subsidized apartments for the frail elderly. But how such a project would be financed or how soon it can be implemented has not been determined. A broader issue involving the prison concerns the 644 acres around the facility and whether they should be developed or preserved as a watershed. Much of the land, which the state owns, is part of the Island's last remaining stand of oak brush plains.

However fast time moves in the rest of the world, it moves faster in television. Four years ago, there was no Cable News Network. There was a UHF station in Atlanta, Ga., that had 96 employees and was owned by a wickedly dimpled man with a pencil mustache whom newspapers occasionally referred to as ''R. E. (Ted) Turner.'' This week, at the Republican National Convention, R. E. (Ted) Turner, the owner of the Cable News Network - whose continuous 24- hour reportage commands some of the attention of almost 30 million television viewers a day - plans to show up in Dallas to observe his operation: 300 employees providing the only full commercial coverage of the national political conventions during an election year. The Dallas convention represents the culmination of CNN's $8 million effort to build its election coverage this year into that of a ''fourth network,'' one that can stand next to ABC, CBS and NBC in the gaze of the American news viewer. Indeed, many within the television industry believe Mr. Turner at last has the right to say he owns a news operation that sometimes equals aspects of what the other networks bring viewers on a day-to-day basis and occasionally sets new standards for television. Mr. Turner believes that as well.

A fully loaded Panamanian oil tanker was struck by a missile in the Persian Gulf today, according to reports reaching here. The missile started a fire on deck that was swiftly brought under control, shipping sources said, and the ship, out of danger, steamed under its own power toward Dubai. It was the second attack on a vessel in the same area in four days. On Wednesday two unidentified planes fired rockets at the Johar, a Pakistani tanker, but missed.

For the second weekend in a row, a tentative settlement of New York City's hospital and nursing-home strike broke apart at the last minute yesterday. Just as Federal mediators walked through the lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel to announce an agreement, a union delegate cried out, ''We've been double-crossed.'' Then, as television crews, reporters, other union delegates and curious hotel guests stood by in the lobby, the mediators and state officials representing Governor Cuomo circled Doris Turner, the union's president. They tried to persuade her that the issue at stake - every other weekend off - could be resolved later and that she should take part in announcing the settlement. Most hospital workers already have at least 26 weekends off a year, and many get them alternately, but Mrs. Turner said any contract would have to insure that all of her members are scheduled to have their days off on the weekend in alternate weeks.