Sign of spring
Along with bulletins concerning-groundhogs and northering robins,
baseball-contract pictures such as that of the beaming St. Louis Cardinals on
the opposite page have long been infallible signs of spring. Latterly a new
vernal index has been developing in Milwaukee: the announcement of advance
ticket sales for Milwaukee Braves home games. Last week, on schedule, came the
news: baseball-happy Milwaukeeans have already ordered tickets amounting to
800,000 paid admissions—more than the Cubs, Phillies, Redlegs, Pirates,
Athletics or Senators were able to attract all last season.
Down in
Arkansas
There was a
furious buzzing of anger and criticism through much of the South recently, and
indeed through much of the country, when Football Coach Bowden Wyatt broke his
contract with the University of Arkansas in order to become head coach at the
more highly esteemed (football-wise) University of Tennessee. Wyatt had had a
fabulously successful year at Arkansas, guiding a team that many thought would
finish last in the Southwest Conference (and which actually did finish last
statistically in defense and offense) to the Southwest Conference championship
and into the Cotton Bowl. His followers in Arkansas showed their appreciation
of Wyatt's coaching ability by raising $20,000 for him and his assistants and
by giving him a new Cadillac. The university altered his five-year contract
with the necessary approval of the Arkansas legislature, and raised his salary
from $12,000 to $15,000. Shortly thereafter, despite raise, contract, Cadillac
and several stout denials, Wyatt left Arkansas and went to Tennessee, just as
he had, two years earlier, left a 10-year contract at the University of Wyoming
to go to Arkansas.
There was instant
criticism of his act in many quarters, though others condoned it. Arkansas
itself, with certain notable exceptions ("I hope his Cadillac breaks down
before he gets across the Arkansas line"), was not as critical generally as
other states where a sense of outraged justice was perhaps more acute.
Nevertheless,
disapproval of Wyatt's contract breaking was widespread, and when Jack
Mitchell, brilliant young coach at the University of Wichita, quit his contract
(a 10-year one, newly granted) and took his new car (a Buick—Wichita is not so
large a school as Arkansas) and left to take over Wyatt's post at Arkansas, the
criticism grew. College coaches in general, with Wyatt and Mitchell serving as
the particulars, were belabored in speech and print for their seemingly
carefree attitude toward written contracts. In Kansas, Wichita's President
Harry Corbin said, "I am thoroughly disappointed. I feel a little
naive." In Little Rock, capital of Arkansas, the Arkansas state senate
introduced to them Senate Resolution No. 1, which was intended as official
criticism and censure of Wyatt "for his act of faithlessness, disloyalty
and lack of consideration for the people of Arkansas."
At this point the
whole affair began to resemble a particularly preposterous op�ra bouffe, what
with college presidents and state legislatures involved so emotionally in
football matters. People seeing the name " Arkansas" in connection with
the farce recalled that this, after all, was Bazooka Bob Burns's state, that
the storied Ozarks, home of comic strip hero Snuffy Smith, were in Arkansas,
that a famous old joke book was entitled On a Slow Train Through Arkansaw.
But Arkansas
promptly rallied around and capably demonstrated that there are, despite all
the old and limping jokes, people in Arkansas who do not play the bazooka, talk
like Snuffy Smith or act like back-country bumpkins. John Tyler Caldwell,
president of the University of Arkansas, made this thoughtful and provocative
observation on Wyatt's abrupt rejection of his contract:
"It is
unfortunate that any contract can be treated as a one-way application. It-is
true, however, that the making of contracts with football coaches developed as
a protection of the coach against the oftentimes extreme demands of fans and
supporters. Realistically, such contracts did not come into being as a
protection to the institutions and have never been so respected."
The Arkansas
legislature then effectively bottled up the censure resolution in committee and
counteracted its effect by passing other resolutions publicly praising Bowden
Wyatt and his team and pledging support to the new coach. A day or two later,
in a somewhat more serious mood, the Arkansas House adopted House Resolution
No. 6, which pointed out that "In recent years the original purposes of the
University of Arkansas have been deemphasized in the favor of certain manly
arts directed to the glorification of brawn and subtle mayhem" and extended
to the faculty of the university "sincere congratulations for having been
able to conduct classes, confer degrees and maintain some semblance of academic
purity in the face of competition for the aforementioned manly arts; and the
faculty further be commended for its attempts to adhere to the original
purposes for which the university was founded in the face of astounding
disparity of salaries between academic and athletic staffs."
Arkansas was back
in business, Bowden Wyatt forgotten, football coaches' contracts properly
evaluated; football itself put in its proper place, and the people of the state
once again as perky, cocky and alert as Arkansas' symbol, the fast-moving,
far-ranging razorback hog.