Scorecard

FORD STEPS DOWN

When Clemson athletic director Bobby Robinson was asked about the unexpected resignation of football coach Danny Ford last week, he said it had "nothing to do with" the latest NCAA investigation of Ford's program, for 14 alleged rules violations that include $50 to $I50 payments to players and improper recruiting visits. If Robinson was stretching the truth a bit—the NCAA charges certainly hastened Ford's departure—other sources backed up the essence of his claim. They said that Ford, whose record in 12 seasons with the Tigers was a sparkling 96-29-4, was forced to step down primarily because of long-simmering battles with Robinson and university president Max Lennon.

The Lennon-Ford conflict dates back to 1986, Lennon's first year at the school, when Clemson decided not to build the athletic dormitory for which Ford had been lobbying. That didn't sit well with Ford, who evidently believes that universities should be run by coaches. Ford's calls for an athletic dorm also strained his relations with Robinson. Last spring, when Clemson announced that it was going ahead with one of Robinson's pet projects, a learning center for athletes, Ford said, "This is one of my unhappiest moments at Clemson. They're going to spend $2.5 million on a learning center, and you could put that into an athletic dorm." Ford openly encouraged members of IPTAY, Clemson's well-heeled booster group, to stand up to Robinson and Lennon and demand that the dorm be built instead of the learning center.

Asked about the reaction of Clemson fans to Ford's departure, Dan Foster, a veteran columnist for the Greenville, S.C., News, said, "They're mad enough to raze everything on campus, except the football stadium, of course." Last Friday night, about 800 Ford supporters held a candlelight vigil outside the administration building; later, some 3,000 supporters gathered outside Lennon's house and chanted, "We want Danny!" On Saturday, Clemson players threatened to boycott the 1990 season unless Ford was reinstated or one of his assistants was named as his successor. After Arkansas coach Ken Hatfield was hired on Sunday to replace Ford, however, the players decided to withdraw their threat.

Ford's program didn't have the cleanest image. In 1982, a year after winning the national title, the Tigers were hit with two years' probation for more than 70 rules violations, some of which had occurred under Ford's predecessor, Charley Pell. Still, Clemson gave Ford a generous going-away present. He'll receive $190,000 annually for the next three years and, if he doesn't take a head coaching job at another Division I college, $190,000 a year for two years beyond that. Clemson will also pay off the $100,000 mortgage on Ford's farm and give him six season football tickets through at least '92.

NABBED!

When Tom and Nonie Scott of Clinton, N.Y., returned from a recent weekend trip to State College, Pa., they found a note from their house sitter, Patricia Tuttle. It began: "Your house is fine. Nothing is wrong. If the neighbors mention the five police cars with flashing lights and sirens, don't be concerned."

Very much concerned, the Scotts read on. Patricia, a local high school senior, explained that when she went over to check on their house, she noticed, through a front window, the silhouette of a man in the dining room. The man froze as soon as Patricia saw him. He appeared to be carrying a weapon under his arm.

Understandably alarmed, Patricia called the police. While several officers surrounded the house, others cautiously entered it. Inside they found the prowler: a life-size cardboard cutout of Penn State football coach Joe Paterno. The supposed deadly weapon was a brown, oblong ball with laces.

The Scotts, both of whom are Penn State alumni and avid Nittany Lions fans, say that from now on they'll warn house sitters not to mistake their cardboard coach for a crook. Says Nonie, "Our chief of police said that Joe almost got a venthole plugged in him."