Great Expectations

The magic of Football is in the air again this autumn, and although a miserable few scorn it, none deny that it exists. When the gates of Soldiers Field swing open this afternoon, and the crowd of Crimson partisans sweeps forward eagerly, all true Harvard pulses will begin to thump, and loyal throats will tighten. There will be alert and anxious clusters around television sets in local bars, and here and there, in isolated rooms, the grinds will tune in softly to catch the half-time score. This gentle madness will endure until the heavy snows have covered the last eleat-mark on the field, and memories of this football year are submerged in expectations of the next.

This season promises to be rigorous and exciting. Rigorous enough to draw heavily on the infinite faith of the many, and exciting enough to hold the undistracted attention of all but a handful, down to that last great afternoon against Yale. Today, the team from Morningside Heights will make the crowds forget about the November game of games for a while. Columbia is in excellent shape. The days of Swiacki may be over, but the days of Eisenhower have barely begun, and with a crushing victory over Rutgers already achieved this year, the Lions will enter the coliscum searching for more martyrs.

But no one is disheartened now. When the ordinary rooter squeces into his seat just before the kick off, he will be hoping quietly that this will be the season when everything goes right. There are some new plays and players, a new coach, and most important of all, a new football year, in which, as the poet said, anything can happen.