Sandwiches and Men

In investigating the Carnegie Foundation's charged of athletic subsidies levelled at Harvard in its report published yesterday at least one amusing incident was uncovered.

The Student Employment Office, which recently took over the management of the concessions on Soldiers Field, faced the Army game with but little actual knowledge of how much food and drink a big game crowd could consume. The senior partners on the other hand had had considerable experience along these general lines in handling the major contests of last year, and for some reason thought they knew what ought to be procured. In a huddle with the Employment Office potentates most of the difficult problems were patched up, but on the question of sandwiches the opposite camps struck an impasse. Both had definite ideas on the subject. A pitched battle ensued and the Employment Office gained an initial victory, emerging from the contest with colors flying. Five hundred more sandwiches than the senior partners thought wise were to be ordered. The triumph was celebrated by the winners with a great flourish of sandwich-eating while the Cadets marched by in orderly array.

But despite the enthusiasm and gusto with which the employment contingent consumed the choice tid bits, the game ended and the crowd dispersed leaving--alas, five hundred and four sandwiches.

The only conclusion to be drawn is that judges of men cannot be expected to be also judges of sandwiches....or experience in the best teacher.

Louder, Please

The announcing problem in the press box is one that is causing more than a little trouble this year. When the box was enlarged, it immediately became apparent that the old method of relaying the announcement from a centrally placed spotter to all ends of the enclosure was not going to work when the box was filled to capacity. Accordingly in time for the Army game, two large loud speakers were installed in the center of the box.

In a trial of this device held Saturday morning of the game, the results were perfect. Not only could the announcer's voice be heard all over the press box, it could be heard in practically every part of the Stadium. The problem was apparently settled once and for all. But when the press box had filled up about fifteen minutes before game time and the thousands of spectators were filing their way into the great enclosure something seemed to have happened. The line up was being announced and nobody more than twenty yards or so away could hear a single word. The trouble was discovered; the acoustics of the box had been ruined by the addition of two hundred and fifty odd human beings. A hurry call was sent out and megaphones produced in quantity in time to save the day for the public.

But that didn't mean that it was permanently fixed. Accordingly for the Dartmouth battle loud speakers have been installed in sufficient number to make acoustics unnecessary, or at least that's what Frank Ryan, who is in charge of press box operations, is hoping. If he is right, it will be just one more step towards making the Stadium press box one of the best.

Football Popularity

When Dartmouth arrives in Cambridge again this week-end, conditions will to all intents and purposes be much the same as they were last year. The Big Green outfit will be essentially untried, and consequently probably somewhat overrated; the Crimson will be conceded to have lots of power, but there will still be some who won't be quite sure where it will lead to. And there won't be one out of a hundred who will dare to make anything like a positive prediction about the outcome of the Stadium clash.

It is unquestionably situations like this, and they aren't at all infrequent in the game today, that make football the most popular sport in America today. Any one who was lucky enough to be in the Brighton bowl last Saturday certainly won't deny that it deserves that position of honor and they will all be back this Saturday by way of verifying it. BY TIME OUT.