LESSON ON THE LAWN
Back in Washington for a few days before moving on to Gettysburg, President Eisenhower turned his hand to a few official chores, lunched and then stepped out onto the White House putting green with his son, Major John S. Eisenhower. He watched with critical eye while the major putted a few and then, for the first time since his heart attack on September 24, Ike Eisenhower reached for a golf club (see page 28). He hefted it and it felt good. The Presidential grin broke and spread wide. He tried a few putts, then surrendered the club back to his son, watching from a lawn chair in the bright sunshine while Major Eisenhower practiced.
Thereafter, for 45 minutes, the major had the benefit of a putting lesson from the nation's No. 1 golfer, who in turn had the benefit of a pleasant sojourn in the sun as close as doctors would let him get to the game he loves best.
ROYCE ROLLS AGAIN
Hard-running halfbacks—men like Ohio State's Hopalong Cassady, TCU's Jim Swink and Oklahoma's Tommy McDonald—monopolized the football news last Saturday, but none of them provided quite the same drama as a 180-pound, freckle-faced Princeton senior whose name is Royce Flippin. Royce will never make All-America because he was hurt and played only three downs in the season's first seven games, but, as he has every fall since he entered the halls of Old Nassau, he stole the show against Yale.
As a Tiger Cub three years ago, the future Princeton captain from Montclair, N.J. scored three touchdowns and passed for a fourth to beat the Yale freshmen. As a sophomore in 1953 he scored two more and passed for a third touchdown as Princeton lost a heart-breaker 26-24.
And last year, after spending the previous three weeks on the bench with a broken wrist, Flippin proved that Yale wasn't the only school with a Frank Merriwell. He raced across the goal line three times, once in the final 16 seconds, to upend favored Eli 21-14.
Yale was again the choice last Saturday, but even old Blues were expressing doubts before the game. For one thing, it was almost too much to expect a team to gain the heights for a second straight week, and only seven days earlier they had upset rugged Army. Also, there were reports that Rolls Royce, as Flippin was inevitably nicknamed, would finally be ready to play a sizable part of the game despite the trick knee that had kept him on the bench all season.
The premonitions felt by the old grads must have filtered down to the undergrads as well. After a good first quarter, Yale folded its tents and refused to look anything like the furious-hitting, ball-hawking aggregation of a week before. In the third quarter Flippin came off the bench to administer the coup de gr�ce.
He set up the first touchdown with a nine-yard pass to Bill Agnew and then scored it himself from the four. Late in the game Teammate Joe DiRenzo intercepted a desperation Eli pass and ran it back 18 yards for another Princeton touchdown, and that was the only thing that prevented Flippin from having a hand in every one of his team's eight touchdowns against Yale in his three varsity seasons. By that time no one really minded; the Tigers won 13-0, and Flippin Day had been properly observed once again.