Football was the big issue in the fall of '26. The class of '27, now seniors, returned to Cambridge to hear rumors that Harvard-Princeton athletic relations were on the rocks, and that the Crimson, after a succession of drubbings, would drop the Tiger from its football schedule. Both colleges denied the rumor, and the team under new coach Arnie Horween began its schedule.

There was little jubilation in the University as both Geneva College and Holy Cross trounced the varsity. Things perked up a bit as the eleven rolled over William and Mary and upset a highly favored Dartmouth. Al Miller, Madison Sales and a sophomore Art French, were beginning to find holes in opposing lines, and confidence soared as Tufts moved into the Stadium. The varsity didn't disappoint a packed Soldier Field as it crushed the Elephants, 69 to 6, the largest Crimson score since 1891. But joy turned to concern as undergraduates glanced at their schedules and saw that Princeton was due in Cambridge. Princeton came, and the Tiger ripped John Harvard, winning 12 to 6. Then the trouble began.

The morning of the Princeton game, a fake CRIMSON was circulated, announcing that the Nassau coach had died on the playing field from "holding his breath too long." At the same time, the Lampoon published an editorial, calling Princeton a bunch of party boys more interested in clothes and athletics than scholarship. Princeton retorted that Harvard was taking a supercilious attitude toward their New Jersey neighbors, and that the Lampoon was trying to alibi for a series of defeats. The CRIMSON tried to placate both parties, saying that because of a patronizing attitude, "Princeton is out to get Harvard . . . but they are too much a part of the best traditions of American education to allow themselves to linger in what is, at best, petty feudalism." But it was too late to damage the rift. On November 1, Princeton announced that it had cut all athletic relations with Harvard.

The proclamation aroused a storm of protest throughout the country. "Let Locarno fall and the League of Nations perish," cried the usually staid New York Times, "but the Big Three must and shall be preserved." Even the bad boy of the whole affair, Lampy, upon seing the results of his work broke down and apologized. But outside of the IC4A track meet Harvard and Princeton did not meet again that year.

In the midst of the turmoil, it was also discovered that athletic director William J. Bingham '16 had planned to drop Princeton from the football schedule anyway, and that this had been another cause for the break. But President Lowell and the majority of the University defended Bingham and his "athletics for all" program. Already, plans were being formulated for the Indoor Athletic Building and more playing fields near the Stadium. Yale agreed with the Harvard plans, and promised to send its intramural champions to meet Harvard teams. On January 15, President Lowell spoke: "Intercollegiate sports resemble the world of pro baseball leagues . . . the games in the Coliseum in Rome. . . .Surely as the aim in instruction is to give education to all, that in athletics should be the physical culture of all." Lowell's backing gave Bingham the momentum to cary out his plan in the following 25 years.

It was a big year for controversies and fights for principles. The final Sacco and Vanzetti appeal had been denied, and the CRIMSON joined the nation's liberals in attacking the judges who had convicted the pair on so little evidence. Alexander Kerensky spoke to the College, and Seniors heard him say that the Russian government would surely fall within a short time. It was a gubernatorial year in Massachusetts, and the Young Republicans, led by H. L. Kobol and Henry Cabot Lodge '23 marched in a torchlight parade.

Debaters were discussing Germany's war guilt and U.S. intervention in Central America. In December, Professor Harry Barnes of Smith told a crowd at the Union "Russia's desire for the Bosphorus was the cause of the war." The debate team, secure in their temporary safety, beat Dartmouth, arguing against co-education. "Here we pursue knowledge," said E. M. Rowe. "There they pursue women." Over at Radcliffe they just smiled.

Dining Hall Dilemma

Just about this time, another problem started puzzling the University, that of the dining situation. Two years before the University had close the Memorial Hall dining room, because of sparse attendance. Recognizing a god thing, the Square cafeterias had jacked up their rates enormously; the only places left were the clubs, and the Union for the unclubbed. No one was satisfied with the arrangements, least of all those who had to eat Union fod. The CRIMSON announced a $50 prize to the best essay on how to alleviate the situation. The prize winner suggested a University dining room on the oGld Coast, nearer the dorms than Mem Hall. It also suggested that the clubs be allowed to reserve tables. This suggestion was immediately approved by President Lowell, and the Corporation voted the necessary funds. At the last minute, however, student apathy forced the University to abandon the plan and the eating problem had to remain until the advent of the Houses.

A little relief from all these pressures was the arrival in Cambridge of Paul Whiteman, straight from a successful European tour. "American jazz," declared Whiteman, "has taken Europe by storm." Admiral Byrd, conqueror of the South Pole, told an enthusiastic audience that airplanes were the hope of the future.

Already beginning to think of the future and their lives ahead of them, '27 stopped a moment to elect the most successful and popular of their number to permanent class posts and Commencement honors. Winners of the December elections were: Leo Francis Daley, First Marshal; Clement D. Coady, Second Marshal; John Burke, secretary; Frederick Vanderbilt Field, treasurer; Dwight Chapman Jr., Orator; Geoffrey Gates, Ivy Orator; Pierpcnt Stackpole, Poet; Ambrose Keeley, Odist; Richard Flood, Chorister.

Permanent officers were Laurence Duggan, Joseph Barnes, Roy Booth, Ernest Gamache, Edward Bailey, Lewis Gordon, Henry Wood, and Isadore Zarakov.

Just before the Christmas vacation began, '27 paused to doff his hat to President Lowell on his 70th birthday. Lowell would need no monument to his administration. The tutorial program, intramural athletics, and the many new dormitories and classes were monuments enough to the President's residence at Harvard. Already, they were preparing to open the new business school across the river, and officials had announced that, because of affiliations with the Boston Public Library, it would be the largest business library in the world.

Vacation over, '27 came back for his last term of residence. One of the more pleasing aspects of the Spring Term was the hockey team, which was sweeping over Dartmouth and Yale for the Eastern title. In the game against Notre Dame, won 7 to 0, '27 saw the strange sight of a Boston crowd cheering the Crimson as the ice became a Donnybrook. The track team was also winning, with Ellsworth Haggerty and Al Miller continuing to pace the field. The squash team beat Yale and took another national title.

Meanwhile, everyone was trying to get in the de-emphasis battle. One jokester suggested that the Harvard-Yale game be played in the early morning, when there would be no traffic problems and when only true sport lovers would be up.

For the first time, the movies invaded the Square as the University Theatre opened. In April, the UT announced a smoker for all College men. The affair went well, but afterwards a few undergraduates got into a little argument with some policemen. A small fight turned into a big riot, as two policemen and four students were carted away to local hospitals. Thirty-nine students were arrested, and '27 was well represented in the group. In a move that was to be repeated 25 years later, the majority pleaded nolo contendere and were lot off free. The trial saw President Lowell go bail for 13 students.

College was drawing to a close. The baseball team, captained by Isadore Zarakov, beat Yale, but, of course, there was no Big Three crown this year.