The Man in the Pressbox

Harvard's new Director of Sports Information, Baaron Pittenger, endeared himself forever to Stadium press box inhabitants at half-time in the season's first encounter, when he distributed menus giving the writers a choice of six delicacies for their mid-game snack. Instead of the legendary soggy doughnuts, the sportswriters now had their pick of pizza, ham and cheese, and four other selections. This thoroughness in the relatively unimportant area of refreshments reflects the diligence with which Pittenger has attacked the monstrous problem of press relations and dispensation of information.

Actually, the long menu was soon curtailed, since serving six radar-cooked foods quickly proved unfeasible. "We narrowed it down to the three most popular choices," Pittenger says. "We offered hot pastrami, ham and cheese,...I don't know what the other one was. All I ate was hot pastrami."

Pittenger improved the rest of the press box facilities until the services rendered "were as good as we could make them as far as speed and accuracy." There were changes "designed to make the place a little more homey--but on a rainy day, you're still going to get wet in our press box," Pittenger says. "Now that we've got it homey, we want it dry."

"To the eye of an outsider, the Office of Sports Information is pretty much a press service," Pittenger says, but to him his job has a far greater significance. He feels that his work does much to shape the public image of Harvard; "everything we do is part of Harvard, and has to reflect its dignity and excellence."

The office's voluminous releases to hometown newspapers, Pittenger maintains, are valuable tools for the enticement of the intelligent, athletically-oriented high school student. Hometown releases, he thinks, have a tremendous influence on secondary school boys "who wonder how the fellow who went to Harvard is doing."

A life devoted to sports writing has led to these conclusions. "From the time I can remember first having ambitions for a career, I wanted to be a newspaperman." Pittenger was born in Kansas City, Mo., but he moved often, attending 15 schools in seven states. Constantly on the move, he had only one thing to take an interest in everywhere he went--sports. It was easy to combine games and journalism "into one big word--sportswriting," he says.

Pittenger graduated from Penn State in 1947, and then worked as an all-round apprentice for the Williamsport Gazette and Bulletin, leaving two years later as city hall and courthouse reporter. In September, 1949, he took the job as education writer for the Hartford Times, and, after a year and a half, moved to the copy desk. Eight months later, "I made a success of myself and became a sports writer."

Brown offered Pittenger the post of sports information director in September of 1955, and he stayed there until last July, when he joined the Harvard staff. A prematurely grey man of 34, he finds himself busier than ever in his new surroundings. He works at high pressure, writing releases, compiling statistics, talking to the press, and planning future projects seemingly all at once, and he has developed the knack of talking in quotable quotes.

And he is getting a long-delayed chance to exercise his considerable talents. Last year at Brown he tried repeatedly to interest Sports Illustrated in Bruin quarterback Frank Finney, only to be told, "It's hard to do business with S.I. at Brown--you ought to be at Harvard or Yale." This fall, he triumphantly wired the magazine: "Well, here I am."