Robinson Bordley, Princeton '70, is 57 call and weighs 155 pounds Some of his friends think that he has a massive Napoleonic complex, and one Radcliffe girl considers him "rather fresh."

But despite those serious handicaps, or perhaps because of them. Bordley has assumed a powerful identity on the Princeton campus, a combination of Lance Alworth. Shipwreek Kelley (bokler of the New York City flagpole sitting record-74 days in 1925) and Jerry Lewis, that has made him a living legend. And tomorrow, when Robby steps onto the field as Princeton's leading midfielder against Harvard's lacrosse team, it will be Cambridge's last chance to worship this Master of Revels before he goes an inactive reserve.

In a very real sense. Robinson Bordley is Princeton, you understand. He is a little kid who made All-Ivy at split end last fall as a member of Princeton's football team. He belongs to the almost immorally aristocratic Cottage Club, which counts him as one of its more tangible assets. He is remembered by a flock of Boston college girls, all of whom consider him small but cute and funny. And he does strange things whenever he gets the opportunity.

Like ?? ?? freshman ??, when he shinnied up the flagepole at Palmer for first ? with ?? ?? in his hand. The boys ?amed him "Spiderman" for first one. Then ?? remember, he h?ng opside down from inside Middle D?d four ?? above the ground. On still another occasion during a weekend party at the ?? he ?? across the rafters brandishing a sword, then ?? down ?? handed just ?? Errol Flynn.

Even now, when Robby has begun to mellow after four years of making things interesting for people, he still feels that old lust for the unusual. So last winter, invited to be Wesleyan's basketball mascot, with carte blanche to put on his own halftime show, Bordley was waiting in the passageway just before time ran out in the second quarter-Nude.

Perhaps it is the rigor of being a Princeton athletic hero that has transformed Robby into a Tiger version of The Incredible Foam Man. He wouldn't be the first one. Hobey Baker had to join the Lafayette Escadrille in World War I to find some adventure after Princeton football. And after a couple of years as All-Ivy tailback, Cosmo Iacavazzi had to join the New York Jets' taxi squad to find meaning in life.

So it is hardly surprising that Bordley, one of the greatest athletes in the history of Landon School next to Bobby Goeltz, has driven himself mercilessly to become what he is today.

But one BU girl thinks that Robby has been that way all along anyway. And if you think he's that way off-duty, you ought to see him when he's doing something vital. Like meeting other guys' dates at Cottage parties.

Robby's duties as split end and midfielder usually preclude any formal weekend social life for him, of course, so when he arrives on Prospect Avenue, tired from combat and seeking a soft feminine voice, and perhaps, a little worship, he takes no chances.

Since sobriety has not really been one of his virtues. Bordley carries, or used to carry in his younger days, a calling card, which listed all of his good qualities. In case he forgot. When he found someone who'd caught his fancy-and few didn't-held approach her gently, but firmly, whip out that card, and start reading.

A lot of it, of course, was vital statistics. But at the bottom Robby had printed his trademark, in case the girl wanted more than statistics. I'M NOT AS GOOD AS I ONCE WAS, it said. BUT I'M AS GOOD ONCE AS I EVER WAS.