WHAT DOES A BUM LOOK LIKE?
Back in the old East everyone knows what a Dodger looks like, thanks to Cartoonist Willard Mullin of the New York World-Telegram and Sun (see left), who did for Brooklyn's once-beloved Bum what Gilbert Stuart did for George Washington. Maybe the old boy has altered since he went west—or maybe he's just been moving around so much that nobody on the Coast has had a good look. At any rate, as shown by these pictures, California's artists are having a hard time catching a likeness.
Meanwhile, back at home, the boys who knew him best (Mullin and Leo O'Mealia of the New York Daily Newt) still fondly remember the Bum in pen and ink. If they don't know for sure what he looks like now he's a Californian, at least they know what he should look like (upper left and lover right). Portraitists west of the Rockies are herewith invited to return thoughtfully to their easels.
MUSICAL CHAIRS (CONT.)
The football season IS Supposed to be over, but half the news on the sports pages last week seemed devoted to football coaches—the game of musical chairs took to the air, and those coaches not for the moment hunting new jobs sang out on the subject of the new two-point conversion rule (see opposite page). By far the most enlightening event of the week was the journey of Navy Coach Eddie Erdelatz and a retinue of three assistants to Texas A&M to scout one of the finest empty-chair situations in football (SI, Jan. 20). "I had hoped it could have been done without any publicity," Eddie said later, but on departure from Washington Airport Monday morning he and his staff posed smiling on the ramp of a DC-7 like a squad of congressmen off for a European junket. Their mission became the subject of coast-to-coast speculation before their plane had crossed the Mississippi.
At Dallas' Love Field a few hours later (after a short interview with the press) the Erdelatz Mission took off for A&M in the twin-engined Beech-craft of an A&M alumnus. Alighting near College Station, Erdelatz, interviewed again, told the press: "Money is no factor—but I'll tell you one thing: I'm not a rich man." Before heading for the main interviews, he ordered his aides to fan out across town, pick up whatever intelligence they could and report back to him.
They met again over steak dinner, seven hours later, in a mutually head-shaking mood. Next day they flew back to Annapolis.
"They've got these two groups down there," Eddie said later. "They got this faculty group and then they got another group opposite that...."
The faculty group is the Faculty Athletic Council, which theoretically selects and recommends a coach to A&M's board of directors. The other group was the Athletic Committee, an alumni subcommittee of the board which wanted a good coach with a big name. The Faculty Council just wanted a good coach.
While the Faculty Council was interesting Good Coach Jim Myers of Iowa State in the job, Athletic Committeemen flew to Washington to sound out Big Name Erdelatz. The board was prepared to give Myers the job when the news leaked that Erdelatz was flying down. Dazzled by Erdelatz's imminence and eminence, the board gave Myers an opportunity to withdraw, which the disgruntled young coach, who had been assured he was the only one being considered, promptly did. "I liked A&M," Myers said, "but they hurt me more than anything that's ever happened to me. I don't know what's going on down there and I don't think they do either."