March 3, 1967
BEST TEAM EVER
Never in the history of Guilford College basketball has its team
clinched the Carolinas Conference in regular season play. This year the
mighty Quakers have won the conference with a 17-3 record and a
22-4 over-all slate. This is also Guilford's best won-loss record ever.
The Quakers won the conference with one remaining conference
game yet to be played. The necessary win came over the Bulldogs of
Atlantic Christian. The win was due primarily to the tremendous play
of "Big Bob" Kaufman. His play that night will never be forgotten by
any of the 900-plus fans who witnessed the contest. Bob Kaufman not
only scored 39 points and pulled down a great number of rebounds,
but he broke his last year's scoring record of 587 with a total of 602
points —a new Guilford College record.
The game with A. C. C. was a tough one from the start. Senior
Captain Wayne Motzinger filled in very nicely when Bob Bregard was
unable to play. Since his call to a starting position three games ago,
Wayne has been averaging 12 points per game, which isn't bad for
anyone. Another help to the Quakers was the return of Leon Young.
But the thing that I think sparked the team to go on to beat A.C.C.
were the two unbelievable dunk shots by the "giant" Bob Kaufman.
He almost broke the basket. The final score was 96-83 and the game
was nothing less than spectacular. Guilford went on to beat Elon 80-75
in the Coliseum dobuleheader last Friday night. Even though the Qua
kers have been plagued by injuries and a series of unfortunate cir
cumstances, Guilford has been playing real fine ball.
The Carolina Conference playoff tournament will begin this week
at Lexington, North Carolina. Guilford, the top-slated team in the
Conference, will play Wednesday night at 9:30. The Quakers have
picked the tough Atlantic Christian Bulldogs in the first round of the
tournament. Guilford has already won a berth in the District 26 cham
pionship playoffs along with Lexington and Wofford. These three
teams will await the outcome of the Lexington tournament, for its
champion will complete the foursome in the Dstrict 26 playoffs. Let's
all get behind our team and let them know what we think of them.
They are the best, and Kansas City, here we come!!!
HEY MAY DAY
It has been said before, and 1 recognized after the first time I
said it with profound wisdom. So I do not hesitate to repeat; a
college is more than buildings and students and teachers. It is a
spirit and aura which surrounds these and is made up in a large part
of the traditions of the particular institution. Here at Guilford we had
until the past year a two-fisted, rip-roaring, hell of a tradition known
as Men's May Day. For those of you who have not had the pleasure,
this festive occasion of long standing customarily commenced at
around 5:30 on the first Saturday in May with the rousing of all fresh
men and at about 6, a quick lap by the worthy candidates for exalted
sophomore status around the campus. They do this not all together in
the all together as diapers are considered de rigeur for the occasion,
white tails as it were. This was followed by the presentation of each
of the various sections skits, parodying usually a prominent faculty
or administration personality and taking a somewhat off-color tone.
As strange as this might appear to one not informed of the history
surrounding this venerable tradition, there was an even more ludicrous
spectacle presented last year. This was the attempt by the office of the
Dean of Men, firmly convinced this activity was illegal, immoral, and
probably fattening as well, to ban it and substitute his own brand
spanking new grand old tradition of getting all the freshmen (strictly
volunteers under his system) out on a muddy field to chase a greased
pig. Aside from the obvious indignities of the then Dean Allen Atwell's
proposal, and its complete lack of appropriateness for anywhere save
a boys' camp or possibly the Agricultural and Technical College, I was
struck by the folly (and yes, even impertinence of an administrative of
ficial, new to his job) in forcibly abolishing a long-standing student tra
dtion because of offense to his particular official sensibilities.
Undoubtedly the diaper parade was not abolished in and of itself,
but as part of a broader crackdown on the Men's May Day, and the
traditional skits. We were told at the time that one of the reasons for
the abolition of the skits was because in the previous year only two
sections had taken the trouble to prepare any. It was of course reas
suring to find that the administration was so concerned for the success
of a student activity which has never involved them relied on them in
any way or used any of their facilities. Then it took the highly anomo
lous position of attempting to save the tradition by abolishing it.
It is very true that in its last year the May Day skits were a scrag
gly, poor excuse, with only two sections represented. This was by no
means the result of a lack of student desire to participate, but ot the
imposition of administrative censorship With the possibilities for a
skit so emasculated no one really cared to do one. In the two previous
years we had had typically wild,*
wooly, and uninhibited May Days.
At its inception Men's May Day
was a strictly male activity, a
raunchy parody on the girls' May
YOUR CAMPUS
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Records, Cosmetics
Guilford College
Book Store
by Dennis Abramovvitz
Day to follow later in the clay, and
other general school activities, with
no hold and no words barred. Co
eds started rising early to peek out
their windows to catch the pro
ceedings, then in later years ven
turing on to the porches and in our
own times of feminine freedom
finally gathering around. In the
(Continued on page 4, col. 1)
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Weekdays 9 a.m. til 12 p.m. Sundays 1 p.m. til 12 p.m.
Located at the Corner Phone 299-9712
Guilford College Drug
Your Friendly Rexall Store
THE GUILFORDIAN
Friendly
Persuasion
by Janet Ghezzi
"If I were a friend to thee as
thee are to me then thee would
be to me as I to thee would be to
me." Perhaps this song coming
over the radio is the only remnant
or Quakerism on this campus. For
a supposedly religious affiliated
school, Guilford shows surprisingly
little Quaker influence.
The only evidence we have that
Guilford is a Quaker school is the
persistent claims of the faculty
that this is so. Now its true that
there is a New Garden Friends
Meeting House on campus, but
Sunday morning doesn t attract any
mad parade of students to its serv
ices. it may be just a false front
on a wooden frame —1 don t think
anyone has yet checked to see.
Once in a while Quakerism is
mentioned in chapel, but only to
tell us that they are very liberal
minded and that they do not dis
criminate against those from over
ritualistic, ridiculously ceremonial,
outdated religions.
Here at Guilford we enjoy the
basic freedoms freedom of
speech, press, religion, and thought
—although this last freedom is not
often used. We are not bound to
uphold Quaker ideals; as a matter
oi fact, most of us don't even know
them. If you have read the college
catalog this may seem strange to
you, tor the opening page states
that "Guilford College has at
tempted to provide a broad liberal
culture under inspiring religious
influence." While there is some evi
dence of liberal culture, there is
none for religious influence. Most
of the students think of Quakers
as modern-day Puritans and secret
ly suspect that each and every
Quaker has a long gray dress or a
frock coat and a high hat hidden
in his closet. When Quaker is men
tioned, thoughts of thee and thou
come to mind. Most students think
of the "Inward Light" as one hid
den in a closet. Now this is ridicu
lous. There is considerable differ
ence between religious persecution
and religious information. The stu
dents shouldn't be forced to ac
cept Quaker ideals, but they should
at least be aware of them. You
could be going to a school whose
policy you detest and not even
know it. The ideals of Quakerism
shouldn't be taught to us or forced
upon us; they should be shown to
us, through the example of the
Quaker students and faculty. To
a non-Quaker it would appear that
Quakerism has little to offer.
It is like a voice dying in the
wilderness. The only well known
facet of Quakerism is its pacifistic
aspect. Of this we all, especially
the men students, are very much
aware.
The catalog also tells us that the
religious teaching is interwoven
with the entire curriculum. Of this
too, there is little evidence. With
the exception of an occasional
"God!" uttered by a frustrated fac
ulty member, there is little men
tion of religion in our courses. In
fact, we are for the most part ex
pected to keep the religious or
moral viewpoint out of our argu
ments as it is too controversial to
discuss.
Where, then, is the Quaker in
fluence on this campus? Perhaps
it lies in the Moon Room. Perhaps
(Continued on page 4, col. 3)
LYNAL
Yelping like a wounded dog,
Lynal ran down the hall of Peter
son dorm. Larry Inman pursued
with a long rope in his hand. The
whip cracked and Lynal jumped.
The boys stood on the hall and
laughed to see Lynal try so hard to
be like a normal person. This was
all a little game that the guys had
set up to amuse themselves, and it
didn't seem to bother Lynal at all.
In fact, they thought he rather en
joyed it, for they were giving him
some attention when no one else
would.
Lynal was in his bath towel as
he came smashing to the floor. This
gave Larry the perfect opportunity
to pop Lynal right on the old rump,
which he did with the agility of a
lion trainer. The snap of the rope
against his exposed flesh sent the
entire hall into pandemonium.
"Hey, Joe, Harry, get a load of
this!" As Lynal scurried up from
the floor and wrapped his towel
around him once again, he also
broke into laughter, for Larry and
the boys were his friends. He
had given them something in re
turn for their friendship: a good
show. Lynal marched into his room
—his obese middle rippling with
laughter and slammed the door;
knowing that the show was over
and that there would be no more
encores. It was Saturday night and
no one in his right mind would be
caught dead in the dorm on a Sat
urday night.
The boys sauntered back to Lar
ry's room.
"God, Larry, you really popped
his butt a good one," Harry chuck
led. "Jesus, is that Lynal a riot!"
Larry coiled his rope and tossed
it in the corner where he could
grab it fast next time he caught
Lynal on the way to the shower.
"You takin' out Joanie tonight,
Harry?" Larry asked, while dous
ing himself with after-shave.-
"Yeh, we're going to the Raven
Club and grab a few beers or some
thing. Whatcha doing tonight?"
Before Larry could answer, Joe's
piercing wolf whistle attracted
their attention to the hall where
Lynal was trying to walk inconspic
uously in his half-polished black
shoes, white socks, Madras tie and
his plaid summer coat.
"Hey, Lynal, who's the lucky
bang-tail tonight?" Larry inquired,
with a sarcastic, broad smile. Lynal
turned his pimpled face towards
them, "I'll see you all later." He
tried to avoid Larry's accusing
question.
Lynal rounded the steps and
lugged his weight out through the
front door of the dorm, moving
each foot forward until he ap
proached that horrid spot he
loathed and loved—the front porch
of Merriweather Hall, the girls'
dorm. He hesitantly approached a
young girl sitting at the sign-out
desk and asked for Elizabeth
Thompson. This girl, like everyone
else that Lynal had ever met, did
not even look up at him from the
book she was engrossed in. She
pressed one little black switch out
of a long row on the intercom and
chanted, "Paging Elizabeth Thomp
son, paging Elizabeth Thompson."
All that came back through the
little speaker was the echo of her
voice, "paging Elizabeth Thomp
son, paging Elizabeth Thompson."
"Yes," a little voice squeaked,
which Lynal recognized as Eliza
beth's.
"Elizabeth, you have a caller,"
the girl said with dry nasality.
"This is Jane, Susan's roommate.
Elizabeth is not feeling well and
she's asleep."
Lynal squirmed at those words
and with a sheepish dimpled smile
thanked the girl at the sign-out
desk and left, shaking the crystal in
the parlor with each step.
Lynal paced the brick walk
through the whipping February
wind to his friend's dorm. Eliza
beth caught a glimpse of his bulg
ing figure through the window as
by Will Franklin
she slipped quickly into her Her
ringbone suit.
John was happy to see Lynal as
he knocked and opened the door to
John's room. Lynal and John had
unpopularity in common. They had
both come from the same mountain
town where but two months ago
early on a Saturday morning they
had roamed the forest together
and talked excitedly about their
upcoming college careers. They
had tried to get a room together,
but Dean Franklin said that they
had to stay where they were as
signed until the end of the semes
ter.
Lynal pummeled onto the mat
tress. "John, how about going over
to Ernie's and shooting some pool
or somethin'? Maybe we can mop
up a few beers."
John consented and they walked
to Ernie's, a few blocks away. They
got a table and John racked as
Lynal scrutinized the sticks for one
that was just right. His eye shot
down the length of the stick as he
held it against his pudgy cheek, de
ciding that it was the one.
John chalked up. "This is just
like back home, huh Lynal? Boy,
you were the pool shark of Bor
rows ville!''
Lynal chuckled with all of his
yellow teeth sticking out and asked
John to break. Johns Q-ball crack
ed against the ten, and they scoot
ed about the green felt table. The
one-ball dropped into the corner,
yet John's follow-up missed, and
L,ynal strolled up to the table, eye
ing each ball like a pro. He lined
up his shot with his stick, braced
himself, and ran the stick through
his powdered palm. His Q-ball shot
out and sank two solid-colored
balls with a swift kick. Lynal be
gan his pool game as John had seen
nim do many times in the back
room of Ed Regan's store in Bor
rowsville. Lynal had lived over
that table for the better part of his
high school days, and he was good,
even great, when he approached a
pool table. He knew it; John knew
it; and the rest of the men in the
pool hall recognized it as they left
their games to watch Lynal run the
rest of the balls into the pockets,
not allowing John to even take an
other shot. But John didn't care, for
he knew that this was a victory
Lynal deserved. For five games,
Lynal lined up his shot under the
hot light with its white porcelain
shade until sweat rolled over his
layered forehead and splattered
onto the wooded edge of the table.
Finally John gave up and Lynal
put up his stick as the crowd that
was now around the fat little pool
shark put on their coats and began
talking among themselves about
the agility of the champ.
John and Lynal walked up to the
counter to pay, as the cashier left
the crowd and began shouting to
Lynal that the games were on the
house, even before he was halfway
across the noisy hall.
"Forget it, boys. For a show like
that, I'd pay you to play," the man
shouted. "Say, why don't you come
over tomorrow night and enter the
championship playoffs here? Half
the town's in the game, and from
what I've seen of your game, you're
a cinch to win."
Lynal's yellow teeth showed
once again as he wiped his brow
and said shyly, "O. K. What time
do I have to be here?"
"Make it about six, and that'll
give you some time to warm up."
Lynal walked out with John into
the fresh, cold air and was silent
all the way back to John's dorm.
"I had a great time, Lynal, and I
think I'll come watch you play to
morrow night if it's O. K."
"Sure it is," Lynal said, maintain
ing his broad smile and shining
eyes. "See you then."
It was twelve o'clock when Lynal
reached his room in Peterson. Lar
ry and the boys were beginning to
(Continued on page 4, col. 1)
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