Wisconsin Dismissals

The ugly contest between Clarence Wiley ("Doc") Spears and Walter Ernest ("Little Doctor") Meanwell for the athletic directorship of the University of Wisconsin started in 1932. That autumn Wisconsin's board of regents forced the athletic council to bring Spears on from Oregon to be head football coach. He accepted the job at a lower wage than he was getting at Oregon because alumni groups had promised him the athletic directorship within two years. In 1934 President Glenn Frank, apparently worried over Spears' reputation as an advocate of "bigtime" football, used his deciding vote on the board of regents to up Meanwell, irascible basketball coach, to the position of Wisconsin's athletic director. Alumni indignantly swore to oust Meanwell within two years.

Last autumn Wisconsin had a disastrous football season, winning one game, losing seven. There were rumors that Coach Spears would be fired. After the season, 220-lb. Captain-elect John Golemgeske of Waukesha cornered Director Meanwell, said he represented 18 squad members who desired Spears' dismissal. The "Little Doctor" told him to present it in writing. Soon afterward, the football squad celebrated its poor season at a local roadhouse. Golemgeske dragged his supporters into the men's room, put the question to them. Seen there by an assistant coach, he was taken before Spears who plied him with drinks and questions.

Next day Footballer Golemgeske's story broke in the local dailies, strongly pro-Spears, because, Meanwell protagonists claim, Spears had previously promised their two sport columnists university employment if he obtained the 1934 appointment as athletic director. By this time Golemgeske had changed sides, charged that Director Meanwell had offered him a job and two major letters if he would circulate a petition for Spears' dismissal, also accused him of giving him a swig of whiskey after a 1935 game. Waukesha alumni, fearing that their native son was the football of opposing groups, engaged a lawyer, sent him to Madison. Promptly Meanwell, known as a confirmed "dry" for 25 years, marched before the athletic council, denied promising Golemgeske a job, admitted giving him the dregs of a 4-oz. whiskey bottle. Instead of settling the Meanwell-Spears feud, the council submitted to President Frank a report demanding full control over athletics.

Last month the enraged board of regents started a full investigation of its own. A few of the accusations which 50 witnesses and hundreds of pages of testimony advanced were: Coach Spears once dragged a player hospitalized for a broken nose and two sprained ankles on the field, made him practice; Spears was accustomed to mix brandy with coffee as a between-halves stimulant; Director Meanwell made sizable profits by selling the university "Meanwell basketballs," "Meanwell shoes," dominated younger coaches through secret agreements, dictated the actions of his campus fraternity. Both coaches denied everything. At one time the testimony was so dull that all but two regents left the room. On another occasion. President Frank and Coach Spears implied that each was a liar. The college paper, the Daily Cardinal, added to the fun by asking for Spears' removal. Typical scene: Trainer William James Fallen, who tried to take the blame for Golemgeske's sip of whiskey, testifying that in the only conference game which Wisconsin won last autumn, he fed the football team orange juice and sugar instead of brandy and coffee.

Last week, after a month of comicopera, the regents decided to close the show, fired both Spears and Meanwell "in the interests of harmony," fired Fallen, also. Promptly the four faculty members of the athletic board resigned in protest while a search was started for a new athletic director and a new football coach at Madison.

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