Personal Poverty Program

Among his fellow newspapermen, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer's Royal Brougham, 71, has an understandable reputation as an oddball. Who ever heard of a sportswriter teaching Sunday school? More incredible, who ever heard of a sportswriter who does not swear, smoke or drink? And who ever heard of a sportswriter who gives money away?

Last week Royal Brougham did just that. With no fanfare, he announced that he would donate $250,000, the bulk of his personal fortune, to set up a charitable foundation that will help send needy kids to school and college.

He is giving another $150,000 to his married daughter. If it seemed strange for a sportswriter to have that kind of bankroll, Brougham was the first to ad mit that it came as a surprise to him too.

Homespun Doggerel. When his friend and predecessor as editor of the Post-Intelligencer sports page, Portus Baxter, retired back in 1920, Brougham made a point of visiting him regularly. He boosted Baxter's spirits by persuading the paper to pay him a small amount as a consultant. Baxter never forgot the favor. When he died 42 years later, he left Brougham a $300,000 estate that no one knew existed.

Brougham's staff pretended to be outraged. One reporter traipsed around with a sign taped to his back: "Millions for charity, but not a dime for sports-writers." Brougham obviously thinks sportswriters need none. "It will be a challenge to be sort of poor again," he said. "It will keep a guy humble."

Not that humility was ever a problem for Brougham. In his 56 years with the P.L, he has been more the kindly cheerleader than the captious critic. Easily the most popular sportswriter in the Northwest, he turns out homespun stories, and often winds up a column with what he calls a "pome," such as his piece of doggerel about a football recruiter: "He checks the young man's height and weight;/Can he kick and pass and run?/But here's the question the coach asks first:/'And how are your grades, my son?' "

Lifetime Vacation. When he is not covering sports, Brougham enjoys doing good. A tireless civic booster, he led a successful campaign to desegregate Seattle's golf courses and bowling alleys. Asked to raise money for the Olympic Games fund, he talked the Harlem Globetrotters into playing Seattle University, and persuaded Louis Armstrong to perform at half time.

Brougham, whose wife died last year, has spent so much of his time spending money on others that he never got around to spending any of his inheritance on himself. "My life has been one long vacation because I have been paid for doing the thing I like best." He is worried about the effect of money on today's athletes. "It's not sport any more," he complains, "when a baseball player gets $100,000 a year. The sportsman is the guy who goes out there for a brass medal and honor, not just for the money." Same for the real sportswriter.

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