How Many Can We Score? Is New Football Criterion

If Dick Harlow had been siting on the varsity bench Saturday afternoon, he would have laid an ostrich egg.

The learned ornithologist, who paid more attention to pass defense then Jane Russell, would have consumed three dozen 50--cent cigars in doleful contemplation of the Crimson's haplessness against the Columbia aerial attack.

Moreover, his conceivable reactions to the daring offense which transformed Cambridge to Ann Arbor-on-the-Charles defies description.

A casual onlooker had only to study the official program to realize something new had appeared on the Harvard scene. In the half-page picture of the 1948 Crimson coaching staff, Art Valpey and his aides were garbed in a unique array of cravats that were sincere, to say the least. None of this Mt. Auburn st. fastidiousness for the new regime.

Beyond Neckwear

But the new era transcended haberdashery. It was more, too, than a tricky series of plays that make the 1948 edition of the varsity football team the most interesting to watch in at least a decade.

It is a new philosophy, based on the basic premise that an electrifying offense is the best defense. Where Harlow usually subordinated his own attack for the first month, concentrating on a single touchdown to clinch a victory, valpey has taken a string form Fritz Crisler's fiddle.

Players Respond

And the Crimson squad, including a host of operatives whose previous abilities had been made known only to the coaching staff, responded with alacrity. Chip Gannon performed in his slashing 1946 pattern, Jim Noonan's Brookline followers popped their vast buttons, and Phil Isenberg's name sounded out over the public address system more often than the Boston Red Sex.

Ave atque Valpey