Dec. 1, 1961
All week long the controversy raged: exactly what degree of animosity towards Yale was it permissible to exhibit in polite society? The more heated segment – including the Daily Princetonian – felt that anything less than "hate" was practically treasonous, while the more moderate – backed up by Security Officer Walter Dodwell and his proctors – suggested that frustrations could be satisfied with nothing more than entreaties to "beat." In the last day or so before the game, Mr. Dodwell and his corps went around campus quietly erasing or demanding that all advertisements for hating the New Haven (Conn.) university be removed. The "Prince," meanwhile, went on inciting its readers to higher levels of hatred, though in the end the paper backed off a bit with a middle-of-the-road front-page banner headline that read simply: "BEAT THE HELL OUT OF YALE!"
The football team certainly handled this sort of thing comfortably enough, but – despite handkerchiefs and "hate Yale" chants – there was entirely too much fraternization with the enemy to allow for a wholesale success for the hate campaign: Yalies were welcomed with open arms at dances, shows and club parties; the two schools sang together in the annual dual concert, and debated each other humorously; and the Triangle Club was doing its damnedest to sell tickets to its New Haven show.
Indeed, this whole annual attempt at hating is something of a synthetic stimulus, created perhaps to try to restore something that may actually never have been, to pretend for a minute that F. Scott Fitzgerald is eating lunch at Cottage Club, that Walter Camp is going to pick four Tigers for All-American, and that there is nothing so frightening in the world as the possibility that Yale may beat Princeton in football. Unfortunately, there are radios and newspapers about, and on a clear night you can see a Sputnik or two, so this little escapism can never last for long. Yale (or Princeton) is simply too small to evoke such passion; there is no hating here for Eli Yale – only the small hope that we should be so lucky to be able to.
Feb. 16, 1962
Of Townies and Studeys
It came as a rather interesting and ironic little commentary for this correspondent to learn that the student term for the local youth of the borough, "townies," is not, in spirit, entirely private property. Whether it is a new expression or simply one just previously unbeknownst to us scholars, it is, nevertheless, all too true that the young townspeople reciprocate by referring to us as – you guessed it – "studeys."
Basically, however, town-gown relationships at this lowest level, between the student and his same-aged alter ego on the other side of Nassau St., are the very model of peaceful co-existence. The two groups just simply seldom come into contact. For instance, the few Princeton students who still do frequent bars congregate mostly at the Peacock Inn or the Annex, while townies head to the Ivy Inn or Rosso's. The closest contact probably comes out of town at the King's Inn in Kingston or at the Wooden Wheel, out on Route 206, which features a twist band on Thursday nights. And actually, the townies often give the carless studeys a lift to these hang-outs.
Of course, there is also the matter of local girls, but this is resolved mostly by the young ladies themselves, who, generally, don't play both sides of the coin. Or if they do, they keep it quiet. Though it defies any rational explanation, the girls fall into two distinct classes: 1) those who positively adore Princeton boys, or 2) those who positively detest them. Nobody knows what places you in either class. It's more like having size five shoes or freckles … you're just that way. On their visits to the campus – invited or free-lance – the only guarantee is that the girls will be in groups for their students. One thing, that is they're community-oriented, these girls. The students have another term for it: "cattle drive."
April 20, 1962
Assistant Dean of the Graduate School James I. Armstrong '41 has reported that Princeton is increasing its admission of women graduate students by 400 per cent next fall. To be less alarmist, this means that four more of the student female of the species will join Mrs. Sabra Follett Meservy, who broke the sex line this year, as Tigresses. Approximately seventy-five women applied for admission, but Mr. Armstrong said that the grad school is still "admitting only women for whom it is particularly and peculiarly appropriate to do work at Princeton." Generally, this meant that the women admitted, all possessed competence in a field in which a member of the faculty is now specializing. All of the women own masters' degrees.
Nothing, however, was said of the marital status of those admitted. Nevertheless, the increase of the female enrollment gives rise to the suspicion that the old saw may soon be changed to read: "When better Princeton men are made, Princeton girls will make them."
New Basketball Coach
Willem H. (Butch) van Breda Kolff ’45, ex-Marine, ex-All-American soccer player, ex-Princeton basketball captain, and ex-New York Knickerbocker, of late a basketball coach at first Lafayette, and then Hofstra, was named to succeed the late Cappy Cappon as basketball coach here, after Jake McCandless '51, who had served as acting coach for a year and a half, stepped down to concentrate his interests entirely upon football.
Van Breda Kolff comes back to Old Nassau with a 204-77 coaching record (.726), a 1955 "Coach of the Year" award from New York writers, and several outstanding seasons, including the one just ended. His Hofstra squad finished as the number-two small college team in the nation with a 23-4 mark, despite the absence of a star on the team. Well, next year, he will have a star, won't he now? People haven't been congratulating van Breda Kolff on his new job – they just naturally start right in on Bill Bradley.
Of Bradley, the new coach says only – he has not seen Bradley yet – that he would probably prefer playing him facing the basket. Also, Tiger teams can be counted on to run, whenever there is speed on hand, and to concentrate a great deal on defense. It will be man-to-man. One thing van Breda Kolff makes clear – he does not like zone defense. His offense? "We just give somebody the ball, and let everybody move around and see what happens. It's better not to set anything too definite, because if the other team figures out how to stop it, then often your players get confused and don't know what else to do." So far, all of these theories have added up to 204-77. Anyone of another mind must be placed in a category that may be called "arguing with success."
May 25, 1962
Cosmonaut Titov Visit
Soviet Cosmonaut Gherman S. Titov visited Princeton on May 11 at the tail-end of his American trip, and he drew enthusiastic crowds here wherever he went. In contrast to U.S.S.R. deputy foreign minister Valerian Zorin, who met to speak with a January Princeton crowd that could only be described as hostile, Major Titov found nothing but cheers and glad hands as he toured the campus. One sign, held aloft by students, seemed to express the collegiate consensus best. "Titov Da – USSR Nyet," it read.
A crowd of about 200 persons was on hand when the fellow space traveler arrived – without his pretty but tired wife, who had elected to remain in New York. Ushered everywhere by a corps of reporters and an ample security escort, Titov was initially greeted by cheers and Whig-Clio President Mark W. Shackelford '63, who officially welcomed the Cosmonaut to Princeton. Followed about by a throng of the curious, Titov signed in at Whig Hall, inspected the Pravda file at Firestone, and then went over to Nassau Hall and signed in there too. There he also met with President Goheen, and accepted the gift of a Princeton banner from the local Welcome Wagon, the Orange Key Society.
Major Titov then proceeded to Alexander Hall (no doubt he never saw anything like that in space), where he addressed a capacity crowd of about 1,500 friendly Americans for about forty-five minutes. His speech in Russian, repeated in English by an interpreter, was pretty innocuous and dealt mostly with space talk. So did the questions and answers that followed. The Cosmonaut, a small, handsome man, made the biggest hit with the crowd when he suggested that a man and a woman take a joint flight . . . for a year or so.