Scorecard

Dr. William A. Stanton, director of international operations for Du Pont's photo products department, is a man who gets around, but what he likes to get around most is a plate of fresh, cold, plump, salty, raw oysters. He devours bushels of them every winter and allows, unblushingly, that the best he has ever eaten are found not far from his native doorstep, in Lower Chesapeake Bay .

Next on his alltime list—and rated as superb—are the bivalve mollusks of Chincoteague Island, Va., Sydney, Australia , Long Island and West Mersey, England . Those of New Orleans , Marseilles , France , Seattle , Myrtle Beach , S.C. and Patuxent River, Md. he classifies as excellent.

Dr. Stanton's ratings fit nicely with a theory developed by Archaeologist Perry S. Flegel. After excavating Indian sites for 23 years in Dorchester County, Md., mid- Chesapeake country, he concluded that the region's earliest settlers ate as well as modern gourmets. They dined on abundant catches of sturgeon, sturgeon roe, diamondback turtle, venison, wild geese and wild turkey and positively gorged on oysters, which often were 11 inches long and four inches wide. The one small catch is that the oysters were of the Choptank River variety, rated only good by Stanton, along with those of Paris , London , Cape Town , Rio de Janeiro and Maurice River, N.J. Had Stanton been a Choptank, he probably would have persuaded the tribe to move 100 miles south.

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE
"We want Fox! We want Fox!" yelled the students of Hapeville (Ga.) High School during a basketball game. Coach Bill Speck called time and summoned Jeff Foxworthy, who has an excellent sense of humor but not much of a jump shot, from the end of the bench. They chatted quietly at courtside, then in went Foxworthy—to the student section, where he sat down. Stunned for a moment, the students quickly regained their voices. "We got Fox!" they cheered. "We got Fox!"

SCHOOL OF HARD KNOCKS
Students at Towson State College outside of Baltimore have gone bonkers over a course being given this spring—Mug-a-Thug 101. Self-defense is the subject. To pass, they have to beat up the professor.

ADVERTISEMENTS OF THEMSELVES

Last week, while the colleges awaited a White House decision on whether the Title IX guidelines to a Federal education law meant equal scholarships and equal facilities for women, some of them, along with professional sports organizations, were wrestling with the consequences of another Government advisory. This one was issued by the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission as a guide to interpreting Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. While it does not require that the schools and clubs advertise coaching openings, the commission does make it clear they would be better off doing so, and the courts have backed this position strongly. So they have advertised, and the Walter Mittys in our midst have responded. Oh, have they responded!

"You wouldn't believe some of the people who apply," said football Coach Tony Mason of the University of Cincinnati , after advertising for a defensive secondary coach. "They think it's like applying for a garbage collector's job."

Among the applicants for the head coaching position with the Kansas City Chiefs—Paul Wiggin got it—were a dentist who had been a successful YMCA coach and stressed his ability to motivate players—without special drills, to be sure; a man-and-woman team (not man and wife) who said they would split a $36,000 contract—she claimed to be able to psychoanalyze people and he was to polish the resultant product; two 18-year-old boys who had just finished high school football careers and offered to skip college.

Ernie Barrett, athletic director at Kansas State , got a letter from a 24-year-old insurance salesman who pointed out how much "national recognition" State would enjoy by virtue of the lack of experience of its head coach. Barrett also heard from a school administrator in East Germany who said he had coached "little kids," and a 29-year-old blind aspirant from New Orleans who included a play in Braille. He wrote a six-page letter telling Barrett that he would use the single wing, admired UCLA , Arkansas and Tennessee and said that he did not think being blind would hinder him. Perhaps it wouldn't, but the single wing would.