The discussion of a "cheap shot" at Dartmouth quarterback Bill Pollock by a Harvard football player last Saturday has overshadowed all other aspects of the Ivy contest, including the outcome.

Why did this comment in particular draw such attention? The Patriots criticized the slippery field conditions in Miami and got some publicity, but not this much. Derek Sanderson criticized the Boston hockey fans and received some attention, but again much more concern was expressed in relation to Dartmouth coach Jake Crouthamel's accusation.

I'd like to suggest that Crouthamel has received all this attention because his complaint struck home right at the heart of athletics. For a brief moment, Crouthamel accused Harvard football of being a game where aggressive young men, more emotional than disciplined, go out on the field with the intention of winning, by any means, and perhaps by adding some of the other elements of triumph to their side besides mere victory on the scoreboard.

More Than a Game

Heaven forbid! We all know that to dehumanize athletics to the level of mere battling instincts is an unfair judgment. Why, athletics is more than visible conflict. It's a character building experience, where a young man can assert himself proudly, experience the various effects of life situations (struggle, victory, defeat, reward and punishment), and withdraw a stronger person for the new understanding. Praise belongs to the athlete, for as Teddy Roosevelt said," ...if he fails, at least (the athlete) fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

Certainly the sportswriter will be the first to jump on the "athletics builds men" bandwagon, for his profession argues that the contrivances of the sports world before a public crowd have something newsworthy. Sportswriters, it could be argued, may not have the earth-shattering events that direct the world (though riots in Pittsburgh may present a case), but the sports world captures that quality of life experience that the reader seeks to know and understand.

Less than a Game

Unfortunately, for those of us who loved reading Gill Thorp, in the comics or Frank Merriwell in the library, the myth is being disproven. And in the latest issue of Psychology Today, the final verdict on athletics is recorded: sports contribute little if anything to the development of character.

The article I am addressing is a study of the effects of competition on personality compiled by Bruce G. Ogilvie and Thomas A. Tutko. The findings are simply summarized:

There is no empirical evidence that athletic competition in any way strengthens the personality of an individual any more than any other endeavor. Athletics reward the egos of those who are already mentally fit, resilient, and strong: but competition may have serious detrimental effects on the athlete with less emotional maturity.

Ogilvie and Tutko are not argueing on a philosophical level. They have conducted over 15.000 tests of athletic motivation traits since 1963 for the Institute for the Study of Athletic Motivation. Most of their article deals with the types of mental depression caused by athletic competition. But their major, and most challenging conclusions are that 1) competition does not build character, 2) competition does not require more than a minimally integrated personality, and 3) there may be an upper limit on the character development necessary for success in sports.

What does all this mean? First, it argues that there is a very weak correlation between character and athletic success. Ogilvie and Tutko agree that emotional maturity is crucial to athletic success, but they maintain that physical ability is the overriding factor in almost all instances.

Second, it contends that athletics may have a serious detrimental effect of emotionally unstable individuals. "The personality of the athlete comes out of a ruthless selection process." The challenge of success and failure are compressed into a compact period of time, and many athletes are simply unable to bear the pressure of the selection process. And remember, participating in athletics does nothing to help them develop that emotional stability: it only creates the selection process for rewarding the fortunate.

An athletics for all policy, therefore, may be dangerous. In my high school, and I'm sure in yours, there were probably several kids who were completely uncoordinated in your gym class. And yet these students were subjected to redicule and challenge because the school system required that they compete with every other student. Needless introversion and inferiority feelings resulted.

Cheap Shots

But this takes us from our "cheap shots" theme. Why was Crouthamel's accusation potent? Basically, because he hit the nail on the head. Football players may not be trained to give "cheap shots", but they do. Whether they are good or bad players, they do. Take a close look at the line play at the next football game. If you don't see a little late-hitting or low-belting on every play, you're not looking close enough.

Players are trained to hit hard. Is that beneficial because it builds character? No, it builds winning teams. And the training of winning teams has little to do with producing Sir Lancelots of ethics and fair play. Joe Restic's answer to Crouthamel was perfectly valid. Football is played to win. Cheap shots are sometimes very successful. If you're caught, you're penalized. If you're not caught, you don't feel guilt or pleasure. You merely get in a good shot or you miss.

But let's end on an optimistic note--How do we defend athletics? Well, ask yourself, "Why defend athletics?" I answer, "Because I like to play," Fair enough. Not because it builds character or develops pride or asserts the self, etc. It may not be a universal fun, but you find twenty two guys who like to have fun playing football and you play for the fun of it.

Ogilvie and Tutko include a quote from Kurt Vonnegut:

"A friend of mine was a superjock at Yale, but in his senior year he quit the varsity ice-hockey team. He organized a hockey team where you had to have a beard to play. He challenged Rhode Island School of Design to a game, and the teams skated to the middle of the hockey rink carrying their jerseys. They made a big pile up there, then chose up sides. That was beautiful. These were friendly, cheerful people and they were doing amusing things. Their goal was to delight themselves, not to defeat each other."