Early in the Penn game Jeff took a snap, sprinted out to his right and ducked under an onrushing linebacker. Then, spotting Lempres cutting across the field, he rifled an eight-yard pass. Bull's-eye! Up in Section 6, Jack turned toward another spectator, nodded his head in approval and pointed to his right biceps. "Strong arm," he said. "He's faster, too, than I ever was." Jack watched each play intensely, now and then rolling his eyes skyward or clapping briskly like a hot-handed quarterback breaking out of a huddle. In Washington, Kemp might indeed sit on the Defense Subcommittee of the House Appropriations Committee, but at Dartmouth he stands—especially when the Big Green is on offense. Last fall he and Joanne attended all nine Dartmouth games. This year they plan to see them all, too—except the William and Mary game, which falls on the same day as parents weekend at Miami of Ohio, where their oldest daughter, Jennifer, is a freshman. "I want my kids to play football," Kemp says. "I want them to get knocked down and to pick themselves up again; to get booed and cheered. And I want to be there to see it."
So does Dorothy Shula. And probably Don, even though he has yet to see a Dartmouth game. Films, yes. Live, no. One weekend last October, Dartmouth and the Dolphins were both in Boston, the Big Green to play Harvard, Miami to face New England. Don made arrangements to be flown by helicopter that Saturday from a Dolphin practice in Foxboro to the game at Harvard Stadium, in case the workout began and finished early. In the end, he had to stick it out in Foxboro. "He's a very schedule-conscious guy," Dave says. "I understood. If a player of his asked to leave practice for a similar reason, I'm sure he'd say no. The head man must teach by example."