The Oval Halo
In Chicago the
other day, John I. Kirkpatrick, the University of Chicago's vice-chancellor for
administration, told a lettermen's reunion that their alma mater saw no way of
resuming big-time football and then found himself off on a philosophical kick
about the worth of it all.
years of college football," mused Mr. Kirkpatrick, himself an old lineman
from Lehigh, "I figure I spent 800 hours in uniform. About one-fifth were
devoted to playing the game. Most of my time was spent in falling on the ball,
tackling the dummy, signal drills, and none of this was much sport.
since my college days have I called up the 21 others to see if they wanted to
play some football." Mr. Kirkpatrick thinks now he might have spent his
football time better on tennis, golf or "some other carry-over
looked out at the other football veterans and went on: "That son of yours
who is a pretty nice guy weighing 150 pounds stands a very tiny chance of
making a football team. Boys of all different sizes stand a chance of becoming
a varsity player in swimming, track, wrestling, boxing, tennis—but not in
"I have said
all these things about football in order to cut off part of the oval halo that
many people thrust about football's headgear."
then summed it all up. "Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying these
debits outweigh the credits of football. I'm very glad I played the game....
I'd do it again."
In fact, Mr.
Kirkpatrick concluded, what made him most angry was the fact that the present
"swollen proportions" of the game made it impossible for the University
of Chicago to get back into it.
Blue by Three
The wind finally
died at twilight, and the patient crews paddled slowly to the starting line
under the New London railroad bridge where the Thames River spills into Long
Island Sound. The nor'wester had blown all day, sweeping the skies crystal
blue, sending the gulls soaring until they were mere specks in the heaven. Now,
an hour after the scheduled start, the wind quit, as though weary of defying
107 years of Yale-Harvard rowing tradition, and the whitecaps melted into long,
gentle swells. It was good water for rowing.