With a 47 to 0 bell still ringing in their ears, Richard Cresson, Harlow and his mates could probably use some solace for the rest of the season like a right arm. Yale is generally the season, though, and solace and Yale don't go together after last Saturday.

It isn't that the Elis showed Baker Field anything anyone didn't know they had, but rather that they did all they were touted for so well. Playing against a strong and favored Columbia eleven, the Blues were like in an old hand in the saddle--always unruffled, smooth, in control, and ready to apply the pressure when needed.

Without Levi Jackson, Yale's running attack almost disappeared: against the strong Columbia line even powerful Ferd Nadherny could break away only a couple of times. What was amazing was that with no speed threat to worry the New Yorkers' backs and ends, the Elis could complete 17 forward passes (out of 26 thrown) with a beautiful precision that was horrible to watch.

Tall Tex Furse was the beginning of those. Running out of T with endless variations, Quarterback Furse threw where the opponents were not but his receiver precisely was. Time after time one end would line up as a wide right flanker, the back in motion would dart out to the left, and the other end would get the ball hard in the middle of his stomach ten yards in front of the center. After that began to bore, Furse lateraled to one of the flankers for a little variety.

Kicking was another fearsome part of the Yale attack. To handle the punts Howle Odell produced Jim Fuchs, Jackson's substitute. Fuchs wasn't exactly Levl on the ground, but his kicks, covering over 50 yards every time, hit Columbia where they lived. The last touch was added by placement artist Bill Booe, who with no visible emotion connected with a 25-yard field goal and two extra-points.

Defensively Yale was masterful except for a peculiar five-minute lapse during which Columbia gained ground on running plays, completed wobbly passes, and finally, scored on an off-tackle smash for 28 yards by Ven Yablonski. The other 55 minutes saw the had-charging Blue line dumping Columbia's would-be hurlers onto the earth, the backers-up holding the trickiest ground thrusts to little or no yardage, and the backfield crippling the Lions with five (count 'em) pass interceptions.

Furse was the key of the attack on all fronts. He called his plays like a machine, rolling them out in an endless variety based on a few simple propositions. With himself as the continuous passing threat, Furse could hurl to a flanker, flip a Harmon lateral to the wing or tallback, hand off to Nadherny, or--and this is his most devasting weapon--leap in the air after a count of one or two or three and explode the ball over the center of the line.

The Yale team was no juggernaut, no monster--just an eleven that without its number one runner and its best pass receiver (end Jack Roderick) looked to have mastered every part of the game and to know it. The team that beats them will have to be either that juggernaut or else the possessor of a bagful of the newest and sweetest gridiron tricks on this side of the Swanee.