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Original Issue


We must commend Pat Putnam's objectiveness in his outline of the alleged racism on the Syracuse University football team (End of a Season at Syracuse, Sept. 28). However, the record speaks for itself. The most acclaimed of Syracuse football players have been both black and coached by Schwartzwalder. Coach Ben is simply a victim of the times, in which, somehow, the authority and consequent decision-making of the head football coach have been confused with repression and discrimination.
Syracuse, N.Y.

Your portrayal of Syracuse Coach Ben Schwartzwalder reveals more than a tough, uncompromising ex-major with knotty forearms and a hoary head. He is pictured wearing a shirt emblazoned with "S.U.A.D.," presumably identifying him as a member of his school's athletic department. This makes him a teacher. Mr. Schwartzwalder is entitled to his personal opinions about "Communists, draft dodgers, flag burners or people trying to destroy our country," but as a teacher of young men in 1970 he must also be a sociologist. There is no room for people who "don't know what's happening anymore."
Cambridge, Mass.

As a former varsity man at Syracuse University, I believe that the imbroglio there has given a wrong image of the team, the coach and the school. Long before many other colleges let down the bars to black athletes, Syracuse was accepting them on the same basis as whites. Coach Schwartzwalder is no bigot. He is a tough disciplinarian and a firm believer in clean, hard football. Syracuse has a long tradition of good sportsmanship. I hope that tradition will reassert itself.

Sandy Treadwell must have an abundance of romanticism and an equal share of stupidity to believe that a game of football could wipe out the memory of four needless deaths at Kent State University, even for one moment (Not Such a Bad Scene at All, Sept. 28).

Just ask those freaks who cheered (jeered?) at the Kent State-Ohio game, and I'm sure they will tell you that one football victory or a million can't wipe out the bad scene at Kent State.
Dearborn, Mich.

Many thanks for the fine article on Coach Dave Puddington of Kent State. After months of reading about Namath, Clay and other smoothies, it's refreshing to read about a good old-fashioned square.
Overland Park, Kans.

As a native Oklahoman I grew up with two strong loves. One was for Okie populism, and most people would call me a radical today. But my true fanaticism is directed toward the Oklahoma Sooners.

My love of sports has helped me to see one thing clearly: the evils in this society are not created by evil people—only misguided ones. When Oklahoma is on the move and my heart is in my throat (framed by my long hair), I feel a special kinship with all of my fellow Sooner fanatics, whether they be hard-hatted construction workers with mortar on their boots or bald-headed professors with mortarboard cover-ups. Saturday afternoons filled with football have made me realize that the only bombs I want to see are Jack Mildren's touchdown passes against Texas.
Los Angeles

I was shocked and stunned upon reading your article on the Vikings-Chiefs game (The Future Moves into the Past, Sept. 28). You say that old-fashioned hard-nosed football beat the Kansas City Chiefs. Let me remind you that old-fashioned hard-nosed football did not beat the Chiefs when it counted, nor did it beat the Jets when it counted.

Furthermore, who is Viking Jim Vellone trying to kid when he says, "What's the difference between this game and the Super Bowl? Eight months. Eight months of thinking." I'll tell you what the difference is—$7,50O and a lot of fame!
Valley Stream, N.Y.

Your football "expert" (College Football 1970, Sept. 14) was certainly right about Air Force not treating its fans to last-second thrills. When a team is averaging more than 40 points per game, the good old fans are exhausted by the end of the game.
Colorado Springs, Colo.

In your comments in SCORECARD (Sept. 28) regarding the signing by the Denver Rockets of Spencer Haywood and Ralph Simpson, I noted a trace of condemnation of the Rockets for this alleged "campus raiding." You failed to emphasize that both Haywood and Simpson approached the Rockets, not the other way around. John McLendon, who coached the Rockets at the start of the 1969-70 season, had also coached Haywood for the '68 Olympics. And Simpson and Haywood were high-school buddies.

The real problem is that professional sports have made no provision to handle hardship cases, athletes who have to help support families, go to school and play collegiate athletics on small scholarship aids. A simple regulation could make it mandatory for an athlete who must delay his education in order to make a livelihood to submit his name to the league commissioner. He could then be awarded to a team by a lottery-type drawing, provided the winning team made an appropriate offer.

In the meantime, we are thrilled to have two potential superstars on our team.

It is very disappointing to me that the only coverage you could give the Amateur Softball Association of America's 38th men's 12" fast-pitch tournament was three lines in FOR THE RECORD (Sept. 28). More than 28,000 teams compete for the distinction of being national champion.

It is unfortunate that your readers were unable to learn about the many exciting events that took place during the recent tournament. For instance, the Raybestos Cardinals of Stratford, Conn., who repeated as champions, are one of only a few teams in the history of this tournament to win back-to-back titles. Pitcher Bonnie Jones of the runner-up Detroit squad pitched a total of 66 innings in one week (including 26 in one day). This is an amazing feat in itself, and no major league baseball pitcher is that durable. And last but not least, my club, in its first year of national competition, was very fortunate to finish a respectable sixth.
Anixter Bros. Softball Team
Skokie, Ill.

As a loyal Aspen resident I feel forced to comment on Roger Rapoport's article (An Explosion in a Boom Town, Sept 14). Many of the author's facts were wrong and nearly all his statements suffered from gross exaggeration. Studio apartments can be found for as little as SI 10 a month: 8 x 36 trailers for $125 a month, not $200. The plan for the four-lane highway was canceled about a month ago. It is not being built. Development at Aspen-Wildcat has been nearly halted due to the price of development itself. An example of Rapoport's exaggeration: How can Aspen have its "Times Square aspects" when there is not one traffic light in the town? Jeep roads are not "jammed." Recently I traveled to Crested Butte by jeep and over the 50 miles of rough mountain country we saw only one other jeep.

Rapoport gets an "F" for reporting; however, perhaps this negative article will have a positive effect on Aspen. Maybe it will discourage those interested in moving here permanently. After all, who would want to come to "urban blight," "civic turmoil," "crime in the streets" and "people who are angry enough to blow up quaint Dutch windmills"?
Aspen, Colo.

Your article, Look, Ma, No Hands (Sept. 14), on air circus flying was of special interest to me because I was publishing the Sheldon, Iowa Sun when we staged an annual air show in town back in the '30s. These shows were outstanding from the standpoint of attendance and talent for a city of only 3,680 population at that time. Bill Sweet was the master of ceremonies, along with a Portis hat salesman from South Dakota named Putnam, who was billed, by himself, as "Everlastingly at It Putt."

Sweet could work the crowd to a high pitch with his feverish and frantic work on his loudspeaker. Roscoe Turner was the featured star, along with others whose names escape my memory. One of them flew an old biplane upside down and picked up a handkerchief from the turf, while Sweet screamed alarm all over the place.

One year we invited a man named Lipshie (spelling may not be accurate) who was supposed to have flown the first official airmail trip back in Ohio. He was so taken by our hospitality that he hung around for several days after the regular troupe had moved on to greener pastures.
Storm Lake, Iowa

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