The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1934-12-04
It's Human.
Labels Lure
of Football
Explains Principal Reas-
on Why Women Display
Interest in Game.
BY EVELYN SEELEY
Times Special Writer

NEW YORK. Dec. Mot a
IN woman in a subway load
bound for Yankee Stadium on a
Saturday afternoon. knows a thing
in the world about football. You
never see a woman charting the
games course or talking strategy
And passes" TO any woman mean
the tentative gymnastics of an
amorous boy friend.
Women go to football games
mostly for two reasons-first, that
their husbands or boy friends are
going, anyway; and second, because
The game is so darned human.
A white-haired woman Of 65 or so
sat with her husband at the Empire
State Club to listen TO the broadcast
OF the annual big game" between
Stanford and the University of Cali
fornia.
Her husband sat on the edge of
his chair, tense and excited. She
sat back, her thoughts far away
perhaps out where the rolling foot
hills lie"-but more likely with her
grandchildren. But whenever her
rapt partner cheered or laughed,
whenever he turned to her she
flashed a bright echo Of his exuber-
ance.
But I had the corner on human
interest. We sat near window
looking out on the sea of city lights
far below us. We we're one sports
columnist, one cartoonist with a son
at Stanford. one uncle of Bobby
Grayson (Stanford's long-legged
white hope) and one Stanford hus-
band (mine).
Each Had Personal Interest
Bobby Grayson's uncle was po-
litely refraining from Dragging
about Bobby when over the radio
came the words, "Grayson hurt!"
Bobby's uncle quickly treasured us.
Hell be okeh." he said. Hes a
tough kid"
He didn't bat an eye later as the
announcer said, They're working
on Grayson on the sidelines," or
when he said, They're taking
Grayson off the field" He knew
the tradition that no sport permits
personal issues to interfere with his
interest in a good game.
MY God, why don't they kick?"
he demanded, and he flung both
arms out and up, started to raise
a foot in the manner Of the sports
page photographs, stopped just in
time to rescue the tipping glasses
m tho rayiYcy table
Nav" said the columnist. They
shouldn't. You make molly-coddleS
of them if you trained them to kick,
instead of pushing through, every
time they get in a tough spot. It'd
be bad"
The cartoonist with a son at
Stanford sat plotting the game on
a letterhead from the Palace Hotel
in San Francisco. which he had
dug out from his desk "juSt for
luck"
MY kids out there yelling his
head off for the team" he said. Il
can almost hear him. You know
he's Just a baby. But the last time
1 went out there he came running
down the street to meet me. He
gave me a big hug and kiss, and
you know what?-his face scratched
mine"
Human Equation Is Everywhere
Then the Westerners, and father
and uncle of Westerners, began on
the Eastern columnist.
You see, Joe, Western footballs
different :" began the uncle.
You see, in the West, and this
game in particular" began the STAN
ford husband. You see, Joe, in the
West they're so tough 80" began the
cartooniSt father.
well, Id like to listen to this
game. if you don't mind" dryly
snapped the veteran sports column
list.
Then the game was over. The
Cardinals, victorious. were solemnly
droning their hymn, Hail, STAN
fordl HALL" before they ran yell
ing off the field. The University of
California gang was CALAMITY gal
Looping about in defeat with their
-YUHl California-YUH"
The sun was setting over the Ber-
kelley hills. Down below. on Fifth
av, theater-goerS taXiS were cutting
a bright streak through the night.
You know" said Grayson'S uncle,
"Bobby's never played in a game
that lost-that's the thing. want
him to go all through school that
urovD