There is a ritualistic quality to this 81-year-old rivalry—this annual communion celebrated over the game of football and two of its earliest apostles. For that reason all 38,240 seats in Harvard's venerable Soldier's Field, the oldest of America's great stadiums, were regarded around the city of Boston with the same respect as the bean and the cod, and even 1,000 standees were willing to brave the wintry New England blasts to watch these rites from the roof of the stadium's colonnade.
There was, however, the added attraction of a Yale team as good as any in possibly two or three decades—on the days when it is in a mood to play. Although injuries had sidelined several of them, seven of the first string were seniors, and the starting backfield of Vern Loucks, Dennis McGill, Al Ward and Steve Ackerman could be rated favorably with any starting quartet in the country.
Perhaps because their football careers were ending, these exceptional football players were in the mood to play one of their finest games against Harvard. Seven minutes after the kickoff, McGill scored for the first time, and the touchdown parade was on its way. In the second quarter McGill took a pitchout from Loucks and ran 78 yards to score again. Not to be outdone, Ward, the other halfback, took a Harvard kickoff two minutes later and ran it back 79 yards for a third touchdown. Although Harvard, as it always will against Yale, played the kind of football from time to time that might beat anyone, it was only too obvious that this was Yale's day. Harvard's seven-man line, with the secondary rigidly anchored on its flanks, could not hope to arrest an attack with the versatility, power and speed of Yale's. Perhaps no college team could have on the farewell appearance of the great Yale seniors.
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 10
NBC-TV'S Game of the Week last Saturday was a raw, rugged football match which let 25 million Americans see USC defeat the Bruins for the first time since 1952.
The prevailing theory about the harum-skarum Trojans is that giving them the football is like giving a 5-year-old a loaded gun. No telling what will happen, but chances are they will hurt themselves some way or other, and these odds looked good to Coach Red Sanders of UCLA. He ordered his team to lose no time presenting the ball to USC on early-down kicks. Only this time the Trojans pointed the barrel right at the heart of the UCLA team—Guard Esker Harris, Center Jim Matheny and Linebacker Don Shinnick. Matheny was carried out by the start of the second half; Harris got so provoked and frustrated he began to trade punches and was thrown out of the game; and the indestructible Shinnick was the only bona fide first-stringer the Bruins had on hand when the final whistle blew.
The only thing which prevented a rout was UCLA's ponderous punter Kirk Wilson. He kept USC at bay constantly, but the Trojans kept storming back until they got within eyeshot of the UCLA goal. Then their ball carriers would suddenly begin to disappear as though they had stepped into a school of piranha fish.
In the final analysis, the Trojans not only committed no mistakes—they finessed the game. The ball was on the UCLA 14-yard line in the third quarter. Trojan Fullback C. R. Roberts took a pitchout and began to drive to the weak side. UCLA linebackers waited, licking their chops—but Roberts suddenly stopped and lobbed a fluttery pass to End Hillard Hill. Ted Williams couldn't have caused more confusion by bunting with the bases loaded. Ellsworth Kissinger's field goal actually sewed up the margin of victory but Roberts' pass won it.
PENN STATE 7