funny," said Holleder, "but we really weren't disappointed at all
because we didn't score. Everyone felt real good; just real good. Because we'd
run through them for about 80 yards and we knew then that we could beat
There was a
little boy standing in the dressing room with his father, a sergeant attached
to the training detachment at The Point, and Holleder broke away to shake his
hand and rumple his hair.
Dee," he said. "Did you like the game?"
Then, with a
"sir," he asked to be excused so he could shower and dress and catch
the rest of his teammates who were already piling on the waiting bus, heading
for downtown hotels and families and friends and the big victory party that
night. But before he could get away someone asked Holleder the question that
had to be answered. How did he feel, now that it was all over, about the big
experiment: the switch to quarterback after being a great end—and giving up a
chance to be an almost-cinch All-America this year?
said Holly, "it was a real challenge and...well, I have a certain feeling
now, knowing I had a big hand in the victory over Navy this year. If I was
still playing end I'd have just been doing what I was told."
He thought this
over a minute and then grinned a little. "Maybe I can say it better,"
he said. "Here's the difference. Last year I played end in the Navy
game—and we lost. This year I played quarterback and we won."
OPEN SEASON ON
Anyone who has
kept in touch with the hangings of football coaches this season—in effigy, up
to now—is entitled to conclude that this year there are more sophomores in
college than usual. One recent day at San Jose State the effigy trick took a
new twist when an ill-mannered crowd strung up an effigy of the coach's wife.
This wiped off whatever smiles were left to the idea and may have ended the
effigy act for a while.
It has not, of
course, eased the coach's fundamental situation—uncertainty of tenure. At the
University of Washington, where no coach, not even the illustrious Gloomy Gil
Dobie, ever has resigned of his own accord, Johnny Cherberg faced mutiny in the
ranks of a team he had coached through a 5-4-1 season, successful by comparison
with two previous autumns (2-8 last year and 3-6-1 in 1953) and in the light of
mediocre material available to him. A delegation of more than 30 players
presented Harvey Cassill, athletics director, with a list of grievances. Among
them: a slap supposedly administered to Guard Gene Pedersen for incurring a
holding penalty, whereas the fact was, as Pedersen and Cherberg agreed, that
the coach had only chucked Pedersen under the chin in an effort to cheer him
But there were
other allegations: "He appears to be affected...by pressure to
win...Players have been shocked and befuddled by the coach's reaction under
various pressure conditions."