"Smoothie Complex"

When Francis Scott Key (This Side of Paradise) Fitzgerald went there (Class of 1917), Princeton University was called a "country club." This was partly because Princeton is a pleasant countryside community, partly because its undergraduates were supposed to loll about with smooth hair and natty clothes indulging their social instincts. In the decade after the War. the "country club" stigma wore off. This was principally because Princeton could then beat Yale and Harvard at football. There were giants in those great days-- "Stan" Keck, "Al" Wittmer, "Hank" Garrity, Don Lourie, Herb Treat, Ed McMillan, "Pink" Baker,-- Howell van Gerbig-- and Princeton's alumni were happy. But then Princeton began taking itself seriously as an intellectual centre, a place to train the mind. Its curriculum and entrance requirements were stiffened. Learning was made more real. A new seriousness, almost philosophical, came over the undergraduates--and Princeton began los- ing football games. The alumni were happy no longer.

This autumn, in the middle of Princeton's third calamitous football season. Chairman Charles William Kennedy of the Board of Athletic Control and president of the National Collegiate Athletic Association, delivered a blazing address on "Nassau's Athletic Decline in All Sports.'' He blamed the university's poor snowing in sports partially on what he called Princeton's "smoothie complex." After Princeton's dejected showing against Cornell four weeks ago, Lawrence Perry, an old Princetonian who writes a national!}' syndicated sports colyum called For The Game's Sake, sadly took up Chairman Kennedy's lament. Lamented he:

"If an undergrad at Princeton these days is smooth he is certain to get by socially. If he is not smooth he misses out on a lot of things. . . . Outstanding ability at auction is likely to get a student farther than physical prowess which takes him through a rival line and wins touchdowns. . . .

"This Princeton squad fills the eyes. They are all big, strong, fine looking huskies. Good chins and square cheekbones, a fine look in their eyes. Keene Fitzpatrick, perhaps the best judge of physique in the country, says it is perhaps the finest squad physically he ever handled. They have more of a tendency to be hurt than boys who have had more vigorous lives in their bringing up, harder knocks. But they can, he says, be hardened."

Quoted first in the Princeton Alumni Weekly, then in the New York Times, the Perry article drew a reply last week. To the Times wrote one William Henry, undergraduate :

"When a discussion of the smoothie complex arises, I am one of that minority which says, 'What of it?' . . . Is it wrong that we are gentlemen? What are we here for? The alumni remember the good old days when Princeton men wore corduroys and shaved only once a week, when the name of Princeton ranked high in the athletic world, but how many of them would give us a job if we walked into their offices dressed that way? Most of us are preparing a cultural background to stand us in good stead during a life of business, and there is no reason why we should not begin behaving like gentlemen before we graduate. The popularity of squash, tennis and golf has become so great at Princeton that measures have been taken to keep down the number of people playing these games. Should we be criticized for not wishing black eyes, broken limbs and worn-out bodies for the glory of Old Nassau? . . . When you meet a Princeton man in years to come he will be wearing a Phi Beta Kappa key in preference to a var- sity TV' '

In the midst of this curious controversy, from the peace of his porticoed yellow mansion "Avalon" in Princeton's Bayard Lane, emerged 79-year-old Dr. Henry Van Dyke, the community's resident Grand Old Man, minister, Wartime Navy chaplain, litterateur (Fisherman's Luck, The Man Behind the Book). He came not to comment on the alleged "smoothie complex" but he had heard that the town council was thinking of routing intercity busses down his and other residential streets. He came to protest. He appealed for the preservation of "the beauty, tranquillity and safety of Princeton, the most beautiful college town in America, as beautiful as any in England. . . . Why not stiffen our backs and protest . . . ? We want this old town kept as an example of what an American college town may be!"

Pre-Freshmen

"It is believed that boys of outstanding scholastic promise will greatly benefit by being assured of admission to college a full year in advance." So saying, Dartmouth last week accepted for admission next autumn 20 pre-freshmen, giving them to understand that in their last school year they were free to follow their own scholastic interests instead of cramming for dread College Board examinations. Thus, also, was Dartmouth somewhat assured that at least 20 promising Dartmouth men would not change their minds and go off with classmates to some other college.

Home v. School

That children should be sent to school --nursery school or kindergarten--as early as the fourth or fifth year, is a theory held by many U. S. educators. Dissent came last week from Dr. David Snedden, professor of education at Teachers College, Columbia University. The ninth or tenth year, said he, is soon enough, save for children from economically and socially unsuitable homes. For children on farms, in villages and suburbs, in all but the largest cities, there is environment favorable to natural, wholesome growth. Let such children play until they are 10; intellectual and social development can come later. This view Dr. Snedden bases upon experience with his six children (one adopted) whom he sent to school around their eighth year; and upon his work as an educator (superintendent of schools in Paso Robles, Calif., Massachusetts Com- missioner of Education).

--Not to be confused with the late great Princeton hockey player, footballer and War ace Hobart ("Hobey") Amory Hare Baker.

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