Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, December 9, 1994 TAG: 9412100054
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DWAYNE YANCEY STAFF WRITER NOTE: below
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Let's face it: The folks in Pasadena, Calif., probably don't have this problem when the Rose Bowl comes to town. Everybody's heard of Penn State.
But in Salem? Heck, we're still trying to explain to folks that the Stagg Bowl isn't a boys-night-out affair. It's the Amos Alonzo Stagg Bowl - you know, named after the legendary football coach - and it's the national championship game for Division III college football.
That means schools so tiny you've probably never heard of them.
"That's OK," chuckles Albion College spokesman Bob Clark, "we've never heard of you, either."
But what's the point of having a bowl game if we can't choose up sides? Here's a tipsheet for nonsports fans on how to decide between Albion and Washington & Jefferson:
Suppose this were Washington and Lee vs. Randolph-Macon, instead.
W&J and W&L have more in common than a similar name and history. (W&J was founded in 1781, W&L a year later). They're both - how shall we say this - rather upscale. Washington & Jefferson, located about a half-hour's drive south of Pittsburgh in Washington, Pa., is where the sons and daughters of Pennsylvania's bluebloods go to school. Or, as "The Fiske Guide to Colleges" puts it: "Townies tend to be a bit resentful of dressy W&J undergraduates."
When W&J calls its teams the Presidents, that may not necessarily mean the White House variety. W&J has a reputation for turning out corporate chieftains - along with lawyers and doctors. Forget the football rankings; the ones W&J really cares about are these: No. 1 in the nation in the percentage of grads accepted to law school; No. 3 in the percentage of grads who are accepted to med school. Is this why The Wall Street Journal is covering this game?
Not that Albion College is exactly proletarian. It's also got a reputation as a conservative campus where students who don't fit into what's called "the Albion Mode" stand out. But like Randolph-Macon here in Virginia, Albion was founded by the Methodist Church. That simplifies things. All you W&L fans, on the W&J side. UVa types, too. All you alums from Randy Mac and other church-affiliated schools can root for Albion.
Anglophile or isolationist?
Albion College is named after its hometown, Albion, Mich., but makes much out of how the name "Albion" is an ancient term for England. The teams are called the Britons; the school president suggested the name in the 1930s "because of lack of interest by the student body." The teams needed some kind of name; new colors, too. After all, they had been informally known as "the Pink and Greens." Nowadays, the band is named the British Eighth 48, after a famous British musical group. But even better, the band members wear the tall, fuzzy hats like the ones worn by the guards at Buckingham Palace.
No truth to the rumor that the football team takes tea at halftime.
As for W&J, they're all-Americans all the way. They've even got Thomas Jefferson's head on display. OK, OK, it's the plaster model for the statue in the Jefferson Memorial. When the statue was finally cast, the artist smashed his model to bits; all except the head, which he lovingly stored in his home. When he died, his family, not sure what to do with the artifact, offered the head to the Smithsonian. The museum didn't want it. Neither did the University of Virginia. So the artist's daughter looked for other Jefferson connections and found W&J, which agreed to put the head on display in one of the most important academic buildings on campus.
Students quickly embraced Old Tom's head as a campus icon: They used to sneak in at night and fill the display case with popcorn.
Advantage: Your call.
Who's got the best college tradition?
Albion has the obligatory campus rock, where students spray-paint their initials. Last hunting season, some students even painted the rock to look like a deer, complete with tree limbs for antlers.
But W&J boasts the "Spoon of Knowledge," a 3-foot-long hand-carved oaken spoon, which is passed down from the senior class to the junior class each spring in a somber ceremony presided over by the college president.
Advantage: W&J, easily. Everybody's got a rock; but how many schools have their own spoon?
Who's got the best cheer?
Since 1900, Albion students have chanted their beloved - and incomprehensible - "Io Triumphe," a medley of Greek and Latin phrases, plus some made-up 19th-century college yells. Imagine Horace, with a Rocky accent: The cheer's pronounced "Yo, Triumphy." The object of the cheer, by the way, is to recite it as fast as possible. "We have people who can do it in 10 seconds," says Clark, the Albion flack. Learning it is a rite of passage for freshmen.
W&J, meanwhile, has gotten out of the college cheer business, although some old-timers still recite the "Whichi Coax," pronounced "Witchy Quacks." And former college public relations man Lee North, class of '46, often finds himself in the midst of the cheerleading squad, leading them in another school cheer, "The Locomotive." The idea there is to chant "W-a-s-h-J-e-f-f" faster and faster.
Advantage:Yo, Albion!
Who's got the best school history?
W&J claims to be the oldest college west of the Alleghenies; its first incarnation was a log cabin school founded in 1781. Benjamin Franklin donated the first books for the library.
Albion was established in 1835, but its most noted moment in history came in 1911. That's when two Albion frat boys wrote "The Sweetheart of Sigma Chi," now regarded as "America's best-known fraternity song." Don't think Albion types are all party hounds, though. "The Old Rugged Cross" was also written at Albion. And here you thought it was a Southern gospel tune.
Advantage: Albion, by a song.
Academic expertise
One of the world's foremost experts on sharks, Jeff Carrier, often featured in National Geographic, teaches at Albion.
W&J specializes in training Wall Street lawyers and financiers.
Advantage: We'll resist the temptation to make a comparison.
Who's got the most famous alumni?
W&J's roster is stacked. Let's start with Jonathan Letterman. No, he's not David's brother. He was the Civil War surgeon who invented the concept of "triage." Remember Chuck Yeager? He didn't go to W&J, but the other, less-famous pilot of the experimental X-15 jet did - Joe Walker. One of the nation's best-selling authors, William McGuffie, of "McGuffie's Reader" fame, was a W&J man. So was Jesse Lazere, a pioneer researcher on yellow fever. You thought that was Walter Reed? Lazere was his partner, who theorized that mosquitoes carried the deadly disease. To prove it, he volunteered to be bitten by a 'skeeter, then meticulously recorded the symptoms on his deathbed. Yikes.
Finally, the clincher: Rex Morgan, M.D., Judge Parker and the residents of Apartment 3-G have W&J connections. Nick Dallis, Class of '37, wrote those comic strips.
Albion, by contrast, is a little short on the famous alumni list. There's Bob Teeter, the Detroit-based Republican pollster who worked for George Bush. What? You want more? Does Roanoke County Police Chief John Cease count?
Advantage: Sorry, chief. W&J.
Who's got the tightest presidential connections?
Albion is home to the Gerald R. Ford Institute for Public Service. Get out those W.I.N. buttons.
W&J, meanwhile, may invoke presidential names, but the campus wasn't particularly receptive to the current one. When Bill Clinton came a-calling during the 1992 campaign, he drew an embarrassing 30 students to a rally.
"If it had been a Republican," suggests W&J spokesman Ed Marotta, "the numbers would have been a little higher."
Advantage: Ford never went to Albion. Of course, George and Tom didn't go to W&J. A toss-up.
by CNB