74

 
 
 
   

WILLIAM STEIG

Gridiron G-Man

By Richard L. Neuberger

The young athlete from U.C.L.A.
was identified by knife scars on his
back. He had, in addition, three
complete sets of names. All this was
irregular, and Ted Key was ruled
ineligible. This incident, together
with a few score more, made the
professors (who run football on the
West Coast) uneasy. They hired
G-man Edwin N. Atherton to look
into irregularities. Mr. Atherton is
now at work, and apprehension
among alumni everywhere is acute

football teams are locked in a tense struggle for

the championship of the Pacific Coast Confer-
ence and an invitation to the Rose Bowl, mention of
Edwin N. Atherton makes fervent alumni shudder
and hard-boiled coaches blench. His arrival in any
college town on the Pacific seaboard sets 200-pound
fullbacks to mopping their foreheads and hiding in
the closet, and starts football fans wondering what
might take the place of their favorite sport these
crisp Saturday afternoons.

Yet the name of Edwin N. Atherton appears in
neither football programs nor newspaper line-ups.
Multitudes never rise to hurrah his achievements on
the gridiron. :

This leads to the conclusion that Atherton must
occupy a unique position indeed. He does. He is the
first Federal Bureau of Investigation graduate ever
assigned to ferret out the low-down on college foot-
ball proselyting. And he has official sanction for the
job. The faculties of the Pacific Coast Intercollegiate
Athletic Conference have hired him to discover how
and why behemoth young men suddenly appear at
their colleges, perform mightily on the gridiron and
do not become ill-fed, ill-housed or ill-clothed during
the process.

In simpler language: Where do the heroes get their
money? The professors want to know. They have
commissioned Atherton to find out. So right from
the beginning he has a different status than anyone

Jitcot the sundown rim of America, where eight

Collier's for November 19, 1938

 

Enthusiastic alumni have always done their share
in maintaining the "gravy train” for the athletes

else who ever pried into intercollegiate football.
Previous muckraking of the athletes’ financial affairs
has had to be conducted from the outside. Much of it
has been on the sly. The investigators have had to
resort to snooping. Atherton, however, can arrive on
a campus as conspicuously as he pleases. No keyhole
sleuthing for him. His task has faculty approval. Any
nimble halfback or colossal guard who refuses to re-
veal to him the source of the money that pays for
T-bone steaks, corduroy trousers, college tuition and
tickets to the junior prom may find himself nervously
holding down the carpet in the dean’s office.

On the Trail of the Gravy Train

The inquiry into the finances of the gridiron heroes
was authorized late last December at the 1937 meet-
ing of the Pacific Coast Conference. The “gravy
train” is the way some cynics refer to the practice
of bestowing slight emoluments on young men of
football prowess, and the gravy train formed the
meeting’s No. 1 topic of discussion.

Edwin N. Atherton, after being in charge of the
F. B. I. offices in San Francisco and Los Angeles, had
resignec to go into the investigating business for him-
self. He had just made a sensational report on graft
in the San Francisco police force and he was the chief
investigator for the Better Business Bureau of Los
Angeles. Here was the fellow to do the job. The pro-
fessors would put a veteran of the G-men on the trail.

Can a boy of 21 go through a hard football
season, hold down a job, and still find time
for classes? Mr. Atherton would like to know

 

Professors grow sternest when they compare
the football coaches’ salaries to their own

Investigation of subsidized athletes has caused
some uneasiness on certain West Coast campuses

What better way to find out who was financing what
athletes, and why, when, where and how?

To understand these occurrences, certain circum-
stances must be explained. The Pacific Coast Con-
ference is governed not by coaches and athletic
directors, to the intense disgust of those individuals,
but by professors. One professor represents each of
the ten schools in the conference. The schools are-
University of Southern California, University of
California at Los Angeles, Stanford University, Uni-
versity of California, Oregon State College, Univer-
sity of Oregon, Washington State College, University
of Washington, University of Idaho and University of
Montana. The last two institutions, however, do not
compete for the football championship.

The whole probe has the coaches in such a funk
that Atherton repeatedly assures them his informa-
tion will not be used to declare ineligible the athletes
performing at present. Whatever he uncovers will
apply only to future situations.

“My investigation,” said he not long ago, “is for
research purposes and not to dig up evidence of pro-
fessionalism that will disqualify from amateur sports
any player now competing in the conference.”

Atherton, who is forty-two years old and who spent
eleven of those years in the service of Uncle Sam, is
about halfway through the prowl of the Western
athletic scene. He has been surveying conference
sports since January. The task will be completed late
next spring, when he will present to the professors