It's known as swimsmanship.
Since 1884 100 games of football have been played between Lafayette College and Lehigh University, which is the most times two colleges have met on the gridiron. (In the old days they used to play two and three times a season.) The game played last Saturday, which ended in a 6-6 tie, was memorable only because it was the 100th, but there were old grads in the stands who recalled not the Game of '98 but the Riot of '02, the Pregame Riot of '33, the Brawl of '48, and the Snowball Fight of '55. The 1964 game was pretty quiet—Lehigh's flagpole was painted a Lafayette maroon and the Lafayette leopard statue was painted a Lehigh brown, but not much else of interest happened.
Pish-tush. One year, they say, Lehigh students burned down the Lafayette library. And there was another year that Sam Harleman, Lehigh '01, remembered. "We played two games at Lafayette," he said. "That meant two fights. It got kind of rough." Just how rough may be judged by the legend of Tom Keady, who coached Lehigh from 1912 to 1920. A big man, he was a quiet one, too, and therefore considered weak on the pep talks that preceded each game. Ah, but before one game, the story goes, he evoked the proper mental attitude by silently choking a leopard to death and throwing the carcass of the beast at the feet of his players.
He did it, a Lafayette follower said, "to appeal to their intelligence."
BACHELORS OF BANKO, CUM LAUDE
When Britain's betting and gaming act went into operation in 1961, permitting the establishment of betting shops the length and breadth of the land, bookmakers had difficulty finding clerks trained to handle the action. But in time this was solved by the London School of Turf Accountancy, founded 18 months ago by Liam Cavanagh, son of an Irish bookmaker.
The school offers four courses. They range from the simplest, for telephone operators and counter clerks, to the most advanced, ominously entitled The Super Settler. A settler is a man who settles bets, determining how much winners should receive. Students of settling must learn such basics as the difference between a "banko" and a "super Yankee." (A banko consists of three selections, seven bets, three doubles, one treble, plus a "roundabout." A super Yankee consists of five selections, 26 bets, 10 doubles, 10 trebles, five foursomes and one accumulator. That's as close as we can come to explaining it. A "trixie," incidentally, combined with a roundabout makes a banko. All clear?)
Among those who have failed to master the arithmetical intricacies of the settler's course are a doctor and a barrister, who matriculated for kicks. And small wonder that they failed. A settler student must work out, with more than deliberate speed, such problems as how much is owed on an each-way treble involving favorites, two of whom have dead-heated, while the third, a co-favorite of three, has finished third at odds of 7 to 2.
Cavanagh says he is now seeking a "proper degree examination for the professional."