PAGE EIGHT

THE MICHIGAN DAILY

THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 1966

PAGE EIGHT THE MICHIGAN DAILY THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 1966


Today 4:10 P.M.
Arena Theatre Frieze Building
Pergolesi's
THE MUSIC MASTER
Department of Speech
Student Laboratory Theatre
Admission Free
m
Last Issue of the Semester is Friday

Would you believe that
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MILWAUKEE JUDGE RULES:
NL Loses Decision

LLOYD GRAFF

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MILWAUKEE (A)-The freshly-
minted Atlanta Braves must re-
turn to Milwaukee unless the
national league agrees by May 16;
to give the Wisconsin city a 1967
expansion franchise, a Wisconsin
circuit judge ruled last night.
Judge Elmer W. Roller's order
came in adecision in which he
held the Braves and the National
League violated Wisconsin's anti-
trust laws by stripping Milwaukee
of its only major league team.
Roller said, "The refusal of the
national league and the failure of
the American League to issue a
franchise to Milwaukee County .. .
was a concerted refusal to deal in
restraint of trade and commerce
within the State of Wisconsin."
The ruling comes a day after
the Braves opened their 1966 Na-
tional League season in Atlanta
before 50,000 fans Tuesday night.
The state also asked Roller to
reserve jurisdiction to allow for
court supervision of the stocking
of the proposed expansion team.
The court agreed to this in its
176-page memorandum decision.
Judge Roller levied a $55,000
fine against the defendants-

$5,000 each on the league and the
10 member clubs-and ordered
them to pay costs. The latter item
may run into hundreds of thou-
sands of dollars for the 38-day
trial and months of preliminary
maneuvers, including the taking
of scores of depositions.
William D. Eckert, commissioner
of baseball, said that he under-
stood Judge Roller's decision
would be appealed to the Wiscon-
sin Supreme Court.
Cimmissioner Eckert issuedthis
statement:
"I have been informed that the
Braves and the National League
and the other clubs of the league
intend to take an immediate ap-
peal from this order to the Wis-
consin Supreme Court.
"I am also aware that in early
February, a Georgia court per-
manently enjoined the Braves
from playing their home games
elsewhere than in Atlanta through
the term of their 25-year lease of
Atlanta Stadium and also enjoined
the National League and its mem-
bers from playing their road
games with the Braves elsewhere
than in Atlanta.

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CALL ANYTIME-662-5676

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the move is i t o ndti
spor coa isCarnby Sree allthe ays

And Now to Go On
To Something Better
I've considered this column for four years, and outlined it a
dozen times at a dozen blue moments, but I've always known that
like a term paper, a farewell column must be written in a final
sullen explosion the night before.
Bang. No whimper from here.
The exaltation of trivia is the essence of sportswriting. It is
hardly prestigious and infinitesimally insignificant in the total scheme
of things. It can be tedious and banal, noxiously distracting, and at
times soporific. It can be a task.
But a task for one person may be a joy for another. The dif-
ference is in the doer.
I derive enormous pleasure from writing drivel about trifles.
And because I possess no illusions about its importance I can
regard sport with the enthusiasm and levity it deserves.
One of the reasons I've never become a rabid Michigan football
fan is the dreadful businesslike manner of the football establishment
here. Practice sessions are brutal and somber. Ticket sales for the
six or seven home games make a full-time job for Don Weir. Les
Etter manufactures public relations blurbs in hopes of selling an
All-American to the media and bringing glory to the school. Games
are interrupted for television timeouts because the network contract
brings in a hundred grand a year.
The spontaneity and vigor of the game is sapped. Football is
an extravagant, moneymaking spectacle. It isn't my kind of sport.
The crass, materialistic; win-at-all-cost attitude was probably
best exemplified by Bump Elliott's willingness to play Jim Det-
wiler last season after his knee had given out three times earlier.
It was a business risk to play him, not a sporting chance.
Russell, Buntin, Darden,..
Basketball, is affected somewhat by money pressure, but for me
the game has transcended the mundane. Cazzie Russell, Bill Buntin,
and Oliver Darden are three of the most exciting players ever to
walk onto a court. When Cazzie dunks on a breakaway I feel a
chill, a chill that only a grand slam homer by Ernie Banks in the
bottom of the ninth with two out and the Cubs trailing by three
runs, can equal.
As I ruefully look back on my career at Michigan, the Saturday
hours at medieval Yost Field House rank as many of the most
exhilerating.
But the hours spent a year ago in stuffy Mason Hall on the
night of history's first teach-in compare favorably in sheer
excitement with the frantic times spent yelling for Cozzie.
Never before or since has academic inquiry been as alive and
pointed as during those ungodly yet unweary hours before dawn
when mortals should sleep.
I am a morning creature by constitution, in other words my
most alert hours are from nine to noon. I've never pulled an all-
nighter to study or finish a paper. But for the first, and only time
in my life I stayed up through the night. The Viet Nam teach-in was
that thrilling to me. It was the most rewarding, almost intoxicating,
intellectual experience I've ever undergone. To find that reasonable,
lucid people doubted the conventional insanity of American foreign
policy was a blessed revelation. Viet Nam protest was fresh then,
not the frantic and somewhat disspirited breast beating going on now.
I remember sitting through my lectures following the teach-in,
with a demanding disaffection. I hungered for the electricity of the
ad hoc event, and of course, it never came. How much excitement
can explode when a professor stands committed to his notes, rather
than his students?
Curiosity .. .
I guess I've always been a misfit at this school because I am
fundamentally a curious person. I have no pretensions about being
a scholar, which alienates me from many professors. I haven't
attempted to just get by, either, which differentiates me from
thousands of other students. I laugh at grades, but I grub for them
despite the nausea. My heart is with the radicals but my commitment
still hangs with the establishment. I love sports but I often find
the jocks sickeningly dull.
I've been struck by the sterility of academia, though I'm willing
to admit that the profs as a group are probably more alive than any
other subgroup in society. So much of what is spouted I classify as
"who cares material." It lies outside the pale of my curiosity.
Quibblings on -literary criticism, philosophical arguments on the
existence of matter, political theory on the public interest, economic
discussion of world banking, popping rats through T mazes, it's all a
bore. When thousands of provocative, living things jump up and
tantalize why compare and contrast Flem Snopes and Moses Herzog
in 300 words for a midterm.
Enough for that swipe.
So far I've been disgustingly sober, which is out of whack in
this column. If there is one thing I'd like to impart in this wrap-up
it is that pomposity is venal. Whether life is actually a game, an

inflated checkers match, is a moot question. But it makes a con-
venient supposition, particularly if one enjoys playing games.
I'm convinced that playing the game with style, grace, and
flair makes more sense than playing to win. If you win, so much
the better, but never sacrifice flair for points. The process, baby,
that's the thing.
A team with Cazzie Russell will always be worth watching
because Cazzie invariably performs with class. The opposition may
show more efficiency, but Cazzie's style will make the game, though
it may not take the game.
Life may be a game or a joke, but either way it ought to be
a joy not a burden. The least we can do is grin as we pass O.
And Mom says I look handsomest when I smile.

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