Col. William J. Bingham made a statement Wednesday afternoon. No one but Jack Durant of the Associated Press knows exactly what he said, but everybody knows he shouldn't have said it.

The story, as most of the local press played it, was either completely inaccurate or misleading. For one thing; Bingham said Harvard was giving up "big-time" football. What is "big-time" football? He implied the football team would continue to play traditional Ivy League opponents. Six of Harvard's nine opponents are traditional rivals. Of the other three, everyone knew Stanford was only a home-and-home arrangement, and the Army contract runs until 1951. Holy Cross is hardly "big-time" in 1949. So what did Bingham accomplish by announcing Harvard would cease to he "big-time?" Precisely nothing.

Next the HAA director announced that Harvard would play no further Intersectional games. This University has never been a bulwark of inter-sectional play, having played but four such games in the last ten years. What could be gained by this forthright announcement? Nothing except the opinion that Harvard is afraid to play anybody it has not been formally introduced to. Yale didn't announce it would never play Vanderblit again, but it won't. All such a statement by Harvard could create is ill will.

Finally, Bingham announced, that the Big Three rivalry didn't mean much any more. This comment was not only ill-advised but downright untrue. If the Big Three rivalry means nothing, why do 60,000 people come to the Harvard-Yale game annually? Why does that game lead most of the Sunday sports sections the following day? Why does the Yale game count twice as much as any other game toward earning a letter? Why are the Harvard-Princeton and the Harvard-Yale games the only ones which undergraduates and alumni always attend regardless of price or team records? The Big Three rivalry is hardly meaningless, even though the national title is no longer at stake.

Then there is the problem of Pennsylvania, Bingham is entitled to his opinion that Penn subsidizes football by scholarships, and I am not sure he is wrong; but it was a poor idea to bring this up now. For one thing, Harvard has not played Penn since 1942, so why bother discussing it at all? For another, Bingham should have realized that even if he was speaking as a private individual his position as head of the HAA implies that this is the official University opinion on Pennsylvania.

The above four criticisms are on the statement alone; now we come to the question of timing. That Bingham should even discuss the problem of intercollegiate football at this time with the press, either on or off he record, is a greater blunder.

After such a poor season as 1949, and when the local press is running story after story on "what to do about Harvard football," no responsible official should say anything until the hysteria dies down. The next football season doesn't begin until September 1. Nor should such an official say anything only two days after the papers have run screamer headlines, true or untrue, on a player revolt.

The third and most important reason why this particular statement should not have come out at this time is that the Ivy League scheduling meeting irritated many other Ivy League schools and it is doubtful that this will react to Bingham's advantage when it comes to making up he 1952 football slate.

But perhaps the most serious consequence of Bingham's ill-timed and ill-advised statement is its possible after-effect.

Every metropolitan newspaper in both New York and Boston played the Bingham statement big, with the accent on Harvard giving up "big-time" football. It would be difficult to think up a better way to keep capable football players out of the Yard. The mere statement that Harvard will "give up the big-time" is enough to send most athletic-minded scholars to Princeton and Yale.

By playing up the "big-time" angle the newspapers have completely subverted the purpose of the alleged University ruling to give some kind of job security to football players. This job ruling represents the first time that the University has ever considered the position of the football player as a special case. It implies at least that Harvard is actually trying to build up a football team by attracting new material. All of which brings us to the peculiar inconsistency of the Bingham statement. While it announces that Harvard will cease to play major league football, it also outlines a concrete method for obtaining the material to make up a "big time" team.

There is also the possibility that the alleged new job program, caught under the kleig lights of publicity, will be misinterpreted and that people will fail to realize that what Harvard is planning to do now is merely what Yale and Princeton have already done.

Perhaps the most damaging repercussion of all will be the sheer volume of people antagonized by the Bingham statement. Harold Stassen and the University of Pennsylvania are answering the alledged slur on their athletic purity. The Yale A. A. released a calm but firm reply to the statement that the Big Three contests didn't mean much any more. No doubt, Princeton, as the holder of the last three titles, will also take umbrage at this charge from the Big Three's cellar-dweller. Perhaps the rest of the Ivy League is perturbed by the fact that Harvard has announced its intention of going small time, but is still going to play six of seven Ivy teams.

Bingham's statement may have been issued under the impression that it was off the record. But it has certainly turned out to be a tragic mistake, if only because it is inconsistent unto itself, and indulges in needless justifications