University of Wisconsin Madison - Badger Yearbook (Madison, WI)

Page 22 text:

First came our coiiiton books ... open sesam tocxcrN alliN ' tic en cut on campus. The first )U|)ons were |»ull« ' (l out in tli ' Fall u lirn crowds strcanicd tlirou :li (he statiiuMi jiatcs and we sat tliroufrli jroldi-n autumn afternoons elieerinjr tlu- | la ' rs in (Cardinal down tiie field. The air was cold and the plays came tlirou;i:h last , . . Stuhldreher talked into his dielaplione. whih- the cheerleaders turned somersaidts . . . arsitv . . . an l e want a touchdown . . . we usually got one too . . . the thrill of heatinji Minnesota and winniufi llomeeomiu ' ; when the town went wild . . . Wisconsin foothall was at the lop of the nation ' s list and we sat in the stands and watched athletic hislors heinj: made . . . The seasons kept spinning around ... it was time to trek out to th ' old Field House lor basketball . . . we sat tense on our benches and cheered for liud Fosters boys slinging the ball around so fast that our eves could hardly follow it . . . sometimes we won. and sometimes we lost, but it was always our team and always our great ])layers . . . The track teams went from maleh to match and the boys kept em running . . . there was a special kind of thrill when a isconsin man l)roke the tape . . . Boxing matches were hlood but we went and chi-ered . . . w ' liked to see the good sportsmanship, the crowded field house, the glaring lights on the ring, and we gas|ied with the tow I when the punches sounded hard . . . Thi ' laki opened and out came the long skiffs . . . crew |»ractice . . . every blade skimnung the water in unison, the coach shouting directions from the motor launch, and spring in the air . . . We knew when it came b the sound of the crack of bat on ball . . . the baseball season lia l begun. We sal through e crx inning, clling ourselves hoarse . . . for our athletics . . . our athletics.

Page 21 text:

3 n the following, pages 1 T H L E T I (! S

Page 23 text:

All the magic and peace of spring at Wiscon- sin — a lazy afternoon, a stiff breeze, a skimming sailboat on Lake Mendota.