Clinton St. Quarterly, Vol. 2 No. 3 | Fall 1980 (Portland) /// Issue 7 of 41 /// Master# 7 of 73

ST. QUARTERLY By Lenny Dee The uproar over collegiate sports recruiting has as much chance to stem the flow of illegal payoffs as prohibition had in the speakeasies of Chicago. The American sports fans’ insatiable thirst for victory — not to mention the zealousness of college administrators in wanting to slake that thirst — makes a mockery of the rules governing major collegiate sports. From powerful alums on down to the janitors in the hallowed halls, the major subject each fall is how well is the State U. football (or basketball or cross-country) team going to do. Perhaps it is time to accept this mania as much a part of our national heritage as soccer riots are the native rites of other lands. Major schools, like Alabama and Notre Dame, make over a million bucks per football season, besides pulling in considerable sums from grateful alumni. Since the game means so much to so many, the young lads who weekly risk limb and kidney for dear alma mater should be well compensated for their hazardous work. Many of Saturday’s heroes are crippled for life as they fight for the greater glory of Possum’s Toe College. This is a full-time job that leaves little time or energy for studies. After banging away at other 250-pound sides of beef for three or four hours a day, the only chemical formula most football players wish to see is the proper temperature of H2O in a porcelain tub. Georgia tackle George the kids in and pay them if you want them to be a farm team. Instead, we give them a scholarship and tell them we want them to have an education, then we expect them to fill the stadium, too .” These words demonstrate a certain wisdom on Paterno’s part, but he is also capable of the kind of contradictions that are rife in college sports programs. Penn State has expanded its 1980s schedule to include powerhouses Nebraska, Alabama, Notre Dame, and USC. The school’s stadium was recently enlarged to hold 83,000 fanatical fans. To fill those seats Paterno is going to need a competitive team that works as hard as the pros in preparation for a big game. Paterno knows this, and yet he insists that both getting a diploma and beating Notre Dame is not asking too much of his men. Either he is kidding us, or those dark glasses he is famous for wearing are really rose colored. The only way Paterno’s players are getting diplomas is through the good offices of sympathetic professors who are willing soldiers in the campaign to be numero uno. (This reporter was astounded that five Pac 10 schools had to go off campus to find enough bogus credits to remain academically eligible. When I lived in Palo Alto and had friends going to Stanford, they spoke of jock symps in every department. If such a prestigious school is steeped in this athletic tradition, what of USC, UCLA and the others?) Wendall Taylor, star halfGive 'em Bucks! Give 'em Bucks! Biiiig Bucks! Armstrong recently explained that practice left his head ringing for three or four hours afterward, followed by a migraine headache that lasted until he went to bed. Every school has its work-study program where students work as office clerks, tutors, research assistants and so forth. Athletes are usually assigned to check the playing surface temperature or to make sure each hour that the gym hasn’t moved. Given the make-work nature of the tasks and the small remuneration, school athletics would be better served by using a chunk of the budget to pay living wages to those who would proudly wear the school colors, and give them four-year scholarships besides. This way our all- Americans won’t be upset by the fact that everyone is making a buck off their skills but themselves. “ I think college athletes are exp lo ited to an e x te n t ,” said Nebraska’s James Redwine in a recent interview. ‘‘People come out every Saturday to see us play football. In a place like Nebraska, you’re talking about standing-room-only crowds. I ’m the guy doing all the work.” Redwine’s scholarship and monthly living allowance of $158 are good for a steady supply of Unguentine, but little else. Consequently, his wife works long hours at a local insurance company in order to make ends meet. “ Football is a job right now, but I’m not getting paid for it,” he says. “ If I was getting a salary, I could see all the sweating I’ve been doing. But I’ve got bills to pay, payments to make, and medical expenses. My wife isn’t covered by my scholarship — only the athlete.” Penn State’s fabled coach Joe Paterno claims to understand well the dilemma college athletics faces. “ The only thing I’m critical of is how we exploited the kids,” he said. “We brought them in as athletes, and even some of my own people don’t believe we want them to have an education. ( Our goal should be to educate the kids. Let the pros have their minor leagues. Don’t be hypocritical; bring back for the LA Rams and former All-American at UCLA, applied the old brown-nose technique frequently to fellow students and professors alike during his college days. In every class Tyler sought out a girl who would share her notes with him when he failed to make class. “ And sometimes I would sit next to her during the tests,” he says. Many classes were huge lectures in which personal contact with the instructor was all but impossible. Tyler made a point to meet the instructors and “ butter them up so they’d remember my name.” His technique was successful enough that, even though he cannot remember the names of the courses he took, he was able to remain eligible with a C average. Such an elaborate sham would not have been necessary had Tyler simply been paid to play football. Paying athletes to be employees of the university would eliminate the quagmire of illegal payoffs, bogus credits and flashy new cars. Alums could contribute to the well-being of their faves above board and get a tax write-off, too. There would be no more Dr. Boyds — of the University of Oregon — who piously state on one hand that they are appalled at being caught with their school’s hands in the cookie jar but who can state, as Boyd did after the Ducks’ ignominious loss to San Jose in 1975, that they’d rather be buggy-whipped in a public square than sit through such losses. Most universities could continue to reach for the exalted First Place. A few might heed the advice of Tufts University President Dr. Jean Mayer, whose school entered this football season with a 12-game winning streak and a record of academic excellence. “ I’d like to brag about the fact that here is a college that does not have any athletic scholarships,” he said, “where we have not admitted any athlete who we couldn’t admit as a scholar; which is part of a conference which bans national recruitment, and in the year when we had our first Nobel Prize in medicine, we had an unbeatable football team.” 44 Illustrations by Alan Brewster

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