Scorecard

CHEAPENED BY THE DOZEN

Competitive swimming has improved to a point where the first six finishers in any major event are only marginally superior to the second six, and for that compelling reason a generous new point system was instituted in the NCAA championships at Ames, Iowa last week. The gratitude for it has not begun to compare with the cries against it.

Under the old system, points were awarded from first place to sixth on a 7-5-4-3-2-1 basis, with double points for relay events. Under the new system, 12 swimmers score: 14 points for first, 12 for second, then 11, 10, 9, 8 and from 6 to 1 for the last six finishers. Again, double for relays. Yale Coach Philip E. Moriarty deplored the new system in a paper he had printed—"Some Thought-Provoking Remarks About Our NCAA Rules"—to distribute at the meet. USC's Peter Daland said it was a give-away program. First place used to be worth seven times as much as sixth place but now is worth less than twice as much, and a team can score as many points for taking sixth and seventh places as another team gets for a first.

Moriarty points out how wild the difference can be: under the old system, USC won last year over Indiana 96-91. Under the new system, Indiana, with great depth, would have won by 99� points, and that is no typographical error. Funny thing, though. This year, with all that depth, Indiana still finished second to USC, by 6� points.

HOME IS LIKE NO PLACE

Gone, but not far, are the days when basketball courts had some character. There was a time when stoves kept the gyms warm and were near enough to courtside to sizzle the daredevils. Posts smack-dab in the middle of the floor were a convenience to fancy dribblers and clever screens. And in some gyms beams overhead increased the home player's advantage because he knew just how much loft to put in his loft shots, but the other guy didn't.

The gym at Lykens, a town of 2,527 in a mined-out anthracite region of southeastern Pennsylvania, is not all that interesting, perhaps, but it does have its fine points. The Lykens High basketball floor is 64 feet long. Out-of-bounds lines at either end of the court are the walls. Coach Ron Wetzel's team got to be magicians at driving in for lay-ups with one arm out to brace for the collision. Opponents, on the other hand, were daunted. Said Wetzel, "They didn't drive very much on us."

Lykens High got so good at home, in fact, that it advanced all the way to the finals of the recent Class C state championship tournament. There, on a regulation court at Bucknell, their special skills were as pearls before swine and they lost. Understanding Lykens townspeople welcomed them home with pealing church bells.

DIAL O FOR THE ROAD
The Touring Club of Switzerland cannot prevent motorists from doing their business in a bar rather than a bank, but it has come up with a device to keep the plungers off the highway when they have invested too heavily. It is an insidiously simple plastic key holder that closes over the ignition key and can be opened only when a small combination lock is properly dialed. The insidious part takes over when the would-be driver tries to handle the delicate dialing. If his friend is equally foggy, he could not handle it either; nor would he know the combination. A clearheaded bystander, it is assumed, would have better sense than to be a party to manslaughter. Of course a farsighted driver, who contemplates losing his wits, could leave the key in the ignition. Then, when his car is stolen, he could sober up on the walk home.

POLLUTION IS PROGRESS