Physkultura Hurrah!

"In Russia there is little or no talk about war," wired the A.P.'s Eddy Gilmore. "The question of burning interest at the moment is football."

Last week Moscow's big Dynamo Stadium, which looks like a Hotchkiss firstformer's dream of the Yale Bowl, put on a show that made the U.S. collegiate spirit look limp. Occasion: the Soviet Union jutbol (soccer) championship final between Moscow's red-jerseyed Spartak eleven (made up of cooperative workers) and the blue-jerseyed Dynamo team from Tiflis (who represented the Georgian Republic's interior ministry).

The Dynamos seemed pretty sure to win. Nevertheless, hours before game time, streams of Muscovites poured toward the stadium. Hundreds of small boys swarmed over or through the high iron fence, as mounted police tried to round them up and chase them out. Throngs funneling through the stadium ramps were so dense that the gate control collapsed. Some people waved tickets. Others just waded in, until 100,000 jammed the stadium, which seats 75,000. They ignored the steady drizzle which iced the rails and benches. When the local boys, the underdog Spartaks, came from behind to win, 3-to-2, in an overtime period, the crowd went wild.

"Master of Sport." Though the masses are more enthusiastic about it, Russia's upsurging interest in sports is as much state-inspired as collective farming.

Sparking the drive is the Government's Ail-Union Committee for Physical Culture. It is headed by Nikolai Romanov (no kin of the late Czar), who bosses 600 stadiums, 14,000 playgrounds, 6,000 skiing stations, 45,000 volleyball courts. Romanov's job is emphatically part of the Soviet preparedness program.

First step in the development of a tenderfoot Russian athlete is a BGTO badge ("Be Ready for Work & Defense"), issued for skill in running, swimming, skiing--and shooting. Next comes a tougher test for the coveted GTO badge ("Ready for Work & Defense"). A GTO can swim fully clad, run 1.8 miles in twelve minutes --and make parachute jumps.

Every Soviet agency from the Red Army to the MGB (secret police) has its own teams everywhere. The MGB usually gets the cream of the crop without resorting to athletic scholarships; it is hard to turn down a bid from old Mu Gamma Beta. Actually, the state itself takes wonderful care of boys & girls who look like champs. Shotputter Tatiana Sevryukovo got $1,600 for a record heave. Last winter every member of the Dynamo jutbol team that toured England got a $4,000 bonus on their triumphal return. The ultimate goal of all: the rank of "Master of Sport," which brings a star athlete not only prestige but such rarities as extra rations, a comfortable apartment and, sometimes, a car.

Daily Double. Under the Ministry of Animal Breeding, Russia has even revived the sport of kings. Gambling was once loathsome to Leninists; now the daily double pays up to $400. The way Muscovites queue up at the pari-mutuel windows of the Moscow State Hippodrome shows that a difference of opinion can still exist (on some points) in the totalitarian state. The horses have inspiring names: Ore Production, Tractor II, Ten Days, Karl Marx. Right now, the favorite is Kropotkin. Though they are all state-owned, there is no suspicion that they run according to plan.

Whether improving the breed of their horses or strengthening the physique of their potential warriors, the Russians have a kind of competitive spirit the West would find hard to duplicate. For instance, as a Soviet futbol eleven trots out on the field, its players sing a dedication:

Physkultura hurrah!

Physkultura hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

Be ready

When the moment strikes

To beat the enemy!

From all our borders

You will drive him back.

Outside Left, Outside Right,

Be on guard!

This is thought to be especially good for the wind.

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