If this wasn't
real funny, it was at least brave. For Rupp was talking in the territory of
North Carolina's coach, Frank McGuire, who is a very fast man with the
comeback. Asked, at a question-and-answer session following a banquet, if there
was any place for the small man in basketball, Frank said, "Yes, selling
score cards." Asked what could be done to improve the quality of
officiating, Frank said, "Give 'em faster sneakers."
The other day, at
a meeting of Missouri Valley coaches, George Blackburn of Cincinnati told his
colleagues how he planned to resolve the quandary over whether to kick the
point after touchdown or go for two points on a run or pass play.
"I'm going to
have a big white card that reads 'kick' and a big red card that reads
'pass-run.' After we score a touchdown, I'm going to hold up both cards, and
the one that gets the most response from the fans will determine what we
California's young (31) football coach, says he plans to use a
"countdown" in signal calling next season. "It should have a
psychological impact," said Elliott. "We're hoping that when the
quarterback starts by shouting, 'Count down,' and then calls decreasing
numbers, it will result in an explosive line charge and allow our guided
halfbacks to fire up into orbit."
remember it's only August and the show is still on the road.
Two hundred of
the best baseball players in the union printing trades assembled in New York
last week, and, as one of them observed, "For one week we were in the big
leagues." For one week each year for the past 50 years the top printers'
baseball teams of the country have been meeting for an annual tournament, the
first one opening on a bright September Sunday in 1908 at Sheepshead Bay, N.Y.
with the 75-piece 23rd Regiment Band providing music and the picnic dinner
including Boston brown bread, Rhode Island clams, sea bass, lobsters,
Philadelphia chicken. The entertainment was featured by a fat man's race for
printers weighing 200 pounds or more. (Boston beat Pittsburgh.)
Fifty years have
made hardly a dent in the hallowed traditions of the printers. Last week they
arrived in New York (as Jehovah's Witnesses were checking out) with their
families, the defending champions from St. Louis traveling in two cars assigned
to them by the Pennsylvania. They put up in an air-conditioned hotel, visited
Ruppert's Brewery, enjoyed a cocktail party for the wives and spent evening
after evening singing old songs. Each morning the 10 teams raced to Ebbets
Field and various other playing fields around town for another elimination
round starting at 11 o'clock. They were alert and eager, the general
festivities of the night before rarely involving the players. As Eddie Moran,
the St. Louis manager, observed, "You never drink when you're
Printers International Baseball League is the oldest amateur baseball
organization in the country, and its members claim they play the best amateur
ball to be seen anywhere. A player must be 1) a printer; 2) the son of a
printer; 3) an apprentice printer. Many are former professional
printers plainly were not athletes. Games were spotty, a few innings of good
minor league quality play, followed by tragic disorder. The New York Union
Printers trailed the Boston Typos 7-0 in the third inning, piled up six runs
and then, in the fifth, let three runs come in on a wild throw from third. The
ball arched so high over home that John Licato, managing the New York team,
said in a voice of mild wonder, "How can a man throw a ball straight up in
the air?" In general, the games looked like exhibitions by former
professional ballplayers who were surprised to find they had become printers,
or of printers who were surprised to find themselves in a ball park. After six
days of play, Washington, most of whose team is employed in the Government
Printing Office, won the championship for the 22nd time.