Examples: Against Northwestern, with nine seconds left in the game, 60 yards to up, and seven points needed to tie, Minnesota got the ball. This could mean nothing at passes, you say. Don't be silly. The power-drugged quarterback called a fullback plunge into the line, and the game was over.

Against Ohio, trailing 21 to 0 in the third period, Minnesota got the ball. Did they send a man around end? Certainly not. Three times into the guards and cackles and then a punt.

It's a joy to watch the teams that play Minnesota. They all feature at least one he runner or passer. The runner usually flays the ends until the defense spreads side, at which point the passer tosses gently over the halfbacks for a touchdown.

Oh, well. It isn't all Bierman's fault. Some things he can't control. Last year, for instance, Clayton Tonnemaker and Leo Nomellini, two great defensive ball layers, walked into a sportswriter's office before the Purdue game and announced that the team was so annoyed at the coach's nasty remarks following a loss to Michigan that they were going to throw the Purdue game. Which they did, completely.

What can a man do? Be nice to his players? That's old stuff. Only amateurs like Bud Wilkinson or Benny Oesterbaan would do that.

There is no point to this essay. It might, however, be comforting to reflect on to fact that Harvard still plays ball for fun. And, by the way, people here speak hushed tones when mentioning the courage of Harvard in scheduling Army. They wouldn't dream of it at the University of Minnesota. Not even when the crop ripens. (The 56-year-old Bierman yesterday asked to be relieved of his football coaching duties, the Associated Press reported. He said his request was not prompted by the poor record of this year's team, which has lost six and tied one.)