Football

On eight days in the next two months, some 20,000,000 U. S. football addicts will pay $30,000,000 to watch 2,000 college football games. Last week the New York Morning Telegraph ran football "form charts," to make the game more intelligible to its horse-race minded readers. On 250 fields, the 1935 season got fully under way. Major developments:

Games. Fifty miles apart, roughly similar academically and socially, Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania are natural football rivals. That until last week they had not played each other for 41 years was due to the consequence of Penn's 12-to-0 victory in 1894, second in the long series of games that preceded it, which was followed by a free-for-all fight among 5,000 spectators on the Trenton Fair Grounds. Jogged by the amiable adjustment of more recent feuds, athletic authorities at Penn and Princeton suddenly remembered theirs last year, hastened to end it by scheduling a Penn v. Princeton game to open the next season for both. Because Princeton, with last year's near-championship team almost intact, and Penn, with a ponderous backfield called "The Four Tanks," were candidates for Eastern champions, it turned out to be the week's big game, drew a crowd of 49,000.

It was Penn's game until the middle of the last quarter when a sophomore back named Jack White, star of last year's freshman team, trotted into the Princeton backfield. He spurred it down the field in a yo-yd. march, carried the ball across the goal line, held it while Sandbach kicked the extra point that won, 7-to-6. Other major games:

Purdue 7, Northwestern oin the first night game ever played in the Western Conference, enlivened in Evanston's Dyche Stadium when 100 members of the Purdue band spelled out PURDUE with lighted electric bulbs attached to their caps. Notre Dame 14, Carnegie Tech 3-when Notre Dame, this season reported preparing to modify the Rockne system, rallied with two touchdowns in the last half. California 10, St. Mary's oat Berkeley, where a crowd of 55,000 saw California linemen, outweighed 16 Ib. apiece, make openings for a touchdown and a field goal in the second quarter.

At Harvard, eligibility for any team is denied a student who "receives ... financial support . . . primarily because of his ability as an athlete." Consequently, when Harvard's Athletic Director William J. Bingham last spring got a letter informing him of a "Bob Haley Fund." his eyes popped. J. Robert Haley of Winthrop, Mass. was captain of the Harvard football team.

The explanation of the letter-that a friend of Football Captain Haley's father who owed Haley Sr. money had offered to pay the debt by helping Bob Haley through Harvard, then mistakenly sought to enlist other Harvard graduates in his generous enterprise -cleared Football Captain Haley of blame but made him no less subject to the rules. Last week, he regretfully resigned. Under a Groton graduate named Shaun Kelly, elected to replace him, his onetime teammates, smartly drilled by Dick Harlow, first non-graduate football coach in Harvard history, made short work of Springfield College, 20-to-0.

That drunks attend and disgrace themselves at football games came to the attention of Princeton's famed Dean Gauss last year. He wrote an indignant article in the Satevepost last fortnight. Last week, it began to look as if Dean Gauss's tardy horror might produce results. In Madison, University of Wisconsin authorities announced that four alumni, famed as athletes when undergraduates, would function as a football dry squad. In Montgomery, Ala., Sheriff Haygood Paterson, onetime Alabama Polytech football star, suggested a pillory outside the stadium where caged drunks could be exhibited after games.

Experiments are inevitable at the start of every football season. At Beatrice, Neb., an assistant high-school coach named Stephen Epler last fortnight published a pamphlet describing his invention of football with six-man teams, an 80-yd. field. At Hamilton, N. Y., Colgate played two games of 30 minutes each against St. Lawrence and Amherst, beat both, 31-to-0, 12-to-0.

Rules this year are the same as last except for a new sentence, presumably in-tended to encourage passes, in the paragraph defining the moment when a ball goes out of play: "A runner who is on his feet even though he be held by an opponent, may run, pass or kick until the whistle is blown."

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