Wonderful World Of Sport

FOOTBALL THUNDER IN THE LINE
In the grunting, sweating melee of big men in leather-popping contact most football games are decided. The battle takes place in full view of the stands, but the spectators watch the backs most of the time, and the elemental meeting of brawn against brawn, shown so clearly on these pages, is seen only by the participants and by coaches watching the game movies a day later. You wouldn't see much if you watched the line, anyway. As these pictures show, the snap of the ball is the signal for what often appears to be inextricable confusion, although to the gladiators locked in man-to-man struggle there is a certain order and sense to the conflict. These pictures show embattled linemen in the California-USC game, but as a football universal they would be just as appropriate to a game between Slippery Rock and Siwash. The gains hacked out by the men in the line are measured in inches and feet, not yards; a block is successful if it moves a defender a foot or two out of the path of the ball carrier and, if a defensive lineman can narrow the hole by a little, he leaves the runner with only a surging mass of men to run into. The sound of line play, if you are close enough to hear it, is a low thunder, lightened now and then by the odd clacking of plastic helmets meeting and accentuated by an occasional expletive wrung from beleaguered guard or tackle.

GLITTER IN THE GARDEN

To Manhattan 's Madison Square Garden last week came the pick of the horse riders of Europe and the Americas to do their best in the diamond jubilee National Horse Show (SI, Nov. 3). The U.S. team led by Billy Steinkraus got off to a fine start, and there were glowing performances by the Canadians and by the West Germans, making their first appearance in the National in four years. The glittering opening was a challenge to the first-night audience, too: a challenge to look their best while watching the best.

For the masculine crowd it was the usual simple procedure. A man's gear for the occasion depended largely on where he sat, where he had been and where he was going afterward. This meant a range, sloping upward from the ringside rail, from white ties and top hats to black ties and soft hats to business suits and—even—no hats.

For the women, also as usual, the event required more selection. For the traditionalists it was a fine fall introduction for capes and stoles of chinchilla and mink, and for new gowns and wraps of brilliantly colored silks. The trend to brocades with surface patterns of gold was as obvious as the tanbark. But, respecting the Garden's questionable surfaces, few of the first-nighters wore floor-sweeping gowns and coats. Otherwise, they stacked up pretty well with the ladies who turned out a week earlier to attend that other big opener of the New York social season, the Metropolitan Opera.

Necklines? Considering the drafty Garden, they took a calculated risk between evening d�collet� and flu.

Presenting trophy, Mrs. W. J. Barney, in beaded dinner dress, stands at attention beside Major General A. G. Tuckerman.

Arriving at garden with Charles Wacker, Mrs. Winston Guest wears Mainbocher evening coat in the popular street length.

Watching at the in gate is Judy Caroll, in pink satin gown, matching evening coat. Judy showed her own horse the next day.

Taking a last look from the floor is Mrs. Alfred Farber, in a metallic-gold brocaded silk evening suit designed by Trig�re.