So often has it been charged that American college football was a dull and profitless game for the spectator that the rule makers have sought constantly in recent years to open up the play so that there would be a better chance to follow the ball. At the same time the attempt has been made to bring out more sharply the work of individuals, so that it might be better appreciated by those ignorant of the technique of the game. In the old days the man in the stand saw little more than two struggling masses, pushing up and down the field. The object was sufficiently apparent, but not the method of its attainment.

After the radical changes in the laws of the game, however, the play swung swiftly to the other extreme, so that the spectator saw so much of the ball that he had little time or opportunity to watch anything else. The result was that while one object of the Committee, the opening of the play, was attained, the other, the bringing out of the work of those individuals who had little or no chance to handle the ball, failed of accomplishment to a large extent.

Again, while the old game was comparatively simple - concerned as it was almost entirely with masses - the coaches found so much opportunity in the new style for the bewilderment of the opposing eleven that they were soon able to bewilder the spectator as well, and along a new line. They introduced shifts of all sorts, both in the fine and in the back-field, and the one great advantage of the old game - the 185 fact that in the line at least the same men faced each other practically from whistle to whistle - was lost.

The rules, too, have gradually become so intricate that even many good players are not thoroughly versed in them, and the general public seldom reads them. There remains then nothing for the spectator but to get some friend to teach him as much of the game as can be done in a half-hour session or so, and trust to his own good sense to acquire the rest. The man who is able to attend only one big game a year may well be excused for failure to make any deep scrutiny into a form of sport that often puzzles its closest students, but there is less to be said for the enthusiast who is able to attend an early season game or two. The attempt will be made here to give the average spectator enough of an insight into the game as he will witness it on the November day that occupies a prominent place in his date book to induce him to go on with a most fascinating study on his own account.

To the man who gets out to a game or two in the early fall I would suggest in the first place that he select a better seat than seems to have been his custom. I have seen a crowd of two or three thousand jam down into the front rows of the Harvard Stadium, in the early fall, although there was plenty of room at the top. The higher up one is, within reason, the better view of football will he get. Near the center of the field, and well toward the top of the stand, if not actually In the top row, is the choice position. From this post one gets an excellent idea of the work of the teams with relation to their positions in one part of the field or another, and an idea of how the generalship varies with the change in position. Again, in looking almost directly down on the elevens the body of one man is not hidden by that of two or three others, and there is a far better opportunity for accurate judgment of the merits of the individuals on the field.

Photo, by Paul Thompson.