Carrots for
Fitness
Next Week, in
response to presidential proclamation, the United States celebrates National
Youth Fitness Week. It would be agreeable to report that the celebrations will
consist of a round of effortless push-ups by a citizenry 100% hale and hearty,
but such is not quite the case. Like motherhood, physical fitness is held in
universal high regard, but like the weather, it is more often discussed than
perfected.
In the riven
world of today, it is an encouraging fact that East and West alike recognize
the vital dependence of national welfare on national health. There is,
moreover, an apparent hearty agreement on both sides of the Iron Curtain that
fitness cannot be achieved by proclamation alone, or even by dictatorial fiat.
As the chief executive of a democratic people, President Eisenhower can do
little more about the fitness of his nation than call attention to its lack and
hope responsible citizens will take note. The fact that many Americans are
doing so is amply attested by the story beginning on page 39 of this
magazine.
Even on their
side of the fence, however, Dictator Khrushchev and his predecessors have had
to recognize the fact that a nation's health cannot be simply commanded. This
recognition has given rise to a Soviet-wide sports program of enviable
dimensions in which the people of Russia are urged rather than driven to
greater fitness.
The most recent
development in this program is the institution of a new Soviet award—the
Commemoration Medal—which in Soviet sporting circles should be roughly
tantamount to the Order of Lenin. It is given only to those Russian athletes
who can better the proven best in their line. Vladimir Kuts, one of the first
three Soviet athletes to earn the medal, set a world record for the 5,000-meter
run of 13:35.0 in Rome in 1957, and any Russian hoping to win the medal in the
future in that event must equal or better his record. The world's record for
the 100-meter dash is 10.1 seconds; the Russian record 10.3. The new standard
for Soviet medal winners will be 10.2. A decathlon man must pile up at least
8,000 points to win; a high jumper must equal the height of 7 feet� inch
achieved by Yuri Stepanov, another pioneer medal winner.
It is the Soviet
notion that many a little Russian boy will dream of wearing the medal of Kuts
and Stepanov one day and busily build his biceps in preparation. By the same
token, though a different award, many a kid in the U.S. dreams of hitting a
ball like Ted Williams, and becomes a better and healthier school-teacher or
stockbroker because of the dream.
It is up to a
nation to provide the opportunity and the incentive, but only the individual
can provide the body and the effort to keep fit. And though we may sometimes
long to beat him into shape, the carrot of encouragement, as any dietician can
tell you, is far richer in vitamins than the stick of enforcement. One doesn't
go out to play for the sake of a fitter nation; one goes out to play, and a
fitter nation follows.
Decision in
Montana
Last Week the
student body of the University of Montana fought it out in a campus
demonstration of a major political decision—the sort of thing that happens
everywhere, though often in less clear-cut terms. The football team of the
University of Montana (3,300 students) has long remained in the cellar of the
Skyline Conference. Last year it lost 9, won none. The rickety stadium holds
only 10,000, and the losing teams didn't draw anyway. The football staff needs
more money for football scholarships, among other things, if Montana is to get
out of the cellar or, it might be, even remain in the conference. Montana's
economic and political impasse—a development taking place everywhere—is that
costs, even the costs of football scholarships, have been increasing while
income has remained pretty fixed. Montana's athletic fund has been based on
student activity fees of $10 a quarter. Of this, $4.80 went to athletics. Among
athletic costs were 64 fairly parsimonious football scholarships.
Two weeks ago the
athletic staff asked the college administration to increase the activity fee so
that Montana could at least function under the same program as other schools in
the conference. The request was turned down, but Acting President Gordon Castle
suggested that the coaches sound out the student council about a student
referendum on the issue. The election of new student-body officers was coming
up in just eight days when the student council finally agreed to put an added
proposition on the ballot: "Are you in favor of a $5 increase in student
activity fees for athletics?"