Teens and TNT

The pea-green freshman, hitherto the lowest form of campus life, is wearing a hero's helmet this fall. Without him there would be little or no college football --except at West Point and Annapolis.

Matter and Mind. Throughout the U.S. last week, college coaches sweated and swore at squads averaging 85% 18-year-old freshmen. The best they could achieve would be something less expert even than last season's football (with its smattering of veteran V-12s), but the public was not of a mood to mind: the Notre Dame-Army game was sold out nine weeks ahead of time; advance ticket sales at Minnesota were running 40% ahead of last year.

All things considered, such onetime big-timers as Alabama, Tennessee and Michigan State decided it was time to resume operations after a year's absence from the gridiron. Others, like Princeton and Carnegie Tech, figuring contrariwise, had tossed in the towel for the duration. Of the few teams already in action, Michigan's teens rang the freshman bell loudest last week by winning their opener, 12 -to-7, against the strong Iowa Seahawks (Naval Pre-Flight); 6-ft. 4 Freshman End Dick Rifenburg caught passes and ran for both Michigan touchdowns.

French Fried Potatoes. Most coaches were too busy training their freshmen fondlings to indulge in the old practice of crying into their beer. Their apple-cheeked youngsters actually looked pretty smooth in varsity uniforms, especially when braced here & there by veteran 4-Fers.

P: At South Bend, the well-organized luck of the Irish still held. Notre Dame was up with a new 200-lb., 6-ft. 3 sparkplug, 17-year-old Joe Gasparella, touted to be as good a passer as Angelo Bertelli.

P: Southern California, the best bet on the West Coast, had eight lettermen from its 1944 Rose Bowl championship team.

P: Coach Henry Frnka (rhymes with Sanka), who nursed Tulsa into three Bowl games (Sun, 1942; Sugar, '43 and '44), was not surprised to find that his gang of yearlings was big and promising. He hoped to rate a fourth Bowl bid.

P: At Northwestern, Coach Lynn Waldorf threw away his book of intricate spinners and reverses, adopted a set of simple plays, figured he had practically the entire Big Ten to worry about -- then his quarter back, ex-Marine Jack Doyle, choked on a French fried potato and cracked an injured rib.

P: Holy Cross, doped to dominate New England, was beaten by Yale last week in a practice game.

The Big Guns. Aloof from the yearling hurly-burly were the footballers of West Point and Annapolis. Army and Navy were loaded for bear, had almost stopped worrying about Notre Dame.

Lieut. Commander Oscar Hagberg, recalled from submarine duty in the Pacific, found himself tutoring one of the mightiest loads of TNT ever assembled on the banks of the Severn. His forward armor, undeniable from end to end, sparkled with two All-Americans : Don Whitmire, tackle, and Jack Martin, center. Behind the seven pillars were Hal Hamberg, Navy's triple-threat ace of last year, and a backfieldful of ex-Alabama, North Carolina, Notre Dame and Penn State stars.

The heavy torpedo was Ralph Ellsworth from Texas, 9.7 man for the 100 and perhaps the best tailback in the country.

It was all too clear to Coach Earl Blaik of Army: "The middy team will be a superduper, lollypalooza." But he added: "That doesn't mean that we won't beat the Navy." Lieut. Colonel Blaik concentrated on speed and deception, continually talked "muzzle velocity" to his backs, who will run from the "T" more often than last year. Besides newcomer Dean Sensanbaugher, brilliant Ohio State back, West Point has Doug Kenna, its wonderful unknown; if he finally struts his stuff (he broke an arm in practice in '42, cracked a knee last year), Army's backfield will go places and do things. But Blaik still has his line -- and Navy -- to worry about.

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