THE SALEMITE
Page 3.
THE BALLY-HOO BATTLE
Station FOS (Faculty Open Se
crets), announcing over a frequency
of fifteen to twenty hours a week
brings you the championship game in
the faculty Intramural Series which
is to be played tonight between the
Ballys and the Hoos.
There’s color and vivacity and di
versity in the crowd smeared around
the walls of the Hut this evening.
Lindsay, Litz, and Lasater, still suf
fering from a touch of Bi-Centennial
fever, have dressed themselves in red,
white, and blue and retired to a cor
ner to mutter poetry and prose about
the father of the country and to bel
low “By George” at every oppor
tunity. Sarah says it’s great to have
something to be crazy about.
But the whistle is blowing! Ref
eree Kate Smith (Salem variety) is
announcing in a slurring Southern
drawl that the game of the evening is
to be the battle for the Intramural
Faculty title which belongs either to
the Ballys or to the Hoos. She has
hesitated for applause. To make up
for the lack, she gulps uncomfort
ably; motions to the Ballys to put
on the red pinnies; and insists weakly
“As a matter of fact, the game is be-
ginnmg.” Let me pause here, boys
and girls of the radio audience,
while Anscombe is tying the cash to
his pinnie and Smith is gulping and
motioning and insisting, to give you
a glimpse of both teams. The Ballys
are charmingly dressed in white
gym rompers and red pinnies in de
lightful contrast to the Hoos who are
resplendent in white middies, sagging
black bloomers, and orange Home Ec.
Head-bands. Let the line-ups speak
for themselves.
BALLYS HOOS
^^ienhold Barrow
C. F.
Foreman Anscombe, Capt.
R. F.
L. Jones Willoughby
L. F.
C. Higgins K. Rondthaler
C. G.
Best, Capt. Schofield
R. G.
Lawrence Leftwich
(c ti
A FAREWELL SPEECH
No, my dears. I’m not on the
fence, on the sidelines, or on the go—
I’m on the shelf. You can’t realize
how I hate it because you have other
interests. I don’t! I was made of
pigskin, by pigskin, for pigskin. I
have enjoyed the pleasures of play for
a season, and now I must reap what
I have sown—criticism. Those of
you who are optimists will say,
“Well, you need the rest, and so do
we.” Those of you who are pessi
mists will say, “Think how bored
you’ll be, and so will we.” Volley
ball will say, “Good for my big sister.
She has stepped aside and is giving
me the ballroom for a while.” Dr.
Rondthaler will say, “Spring is al
most here; basketball season is over.”
'Fhe Seniors will say with tears in
their voices, “Girls, our last game has
been played.” “At” will say, “Well,
do a little bit of work this summer
to get up some wind, and maybe
you’ll make the grade next year.” I
will say, “Salem, I’ll hand it to you
—you’ve some good basketball play-
Nobody knows how I hate to see
Shorty and Anna and Pat leave us
this year. I know we’ll still have
Shockey and Georgia and Grace, but
I just can’t forget some girls. Do
you remember my last year’s red
headed team ? They were plenty
good. Dot simply filled the baskets
and Ruth surely covered the floor.
Well, I’m just talking you to death
when you should be studying. You
probably aren’t interested anyway,
but I want to tell you one thing be
fore I crawl in that dingy closet and
rest on those neglected hockey sticks.
Please don’t forget that although my
season has past, I was not just a
passing fad. I’ll be back next j^ear
with renewed energy. I’m not like
wool flowers, fancy elephants for
hats, short skirts, or anklets—I’m
here for good. I’m sorry if I’ve
broken your watch crystal, or bumpee^
your head, or sprained your ankle,
but it’s all in the game. You’ve
really enjoyed it whether you realize
Good-night! 'Fhere comes ‘At’.
HAIL, HAIL, THE GANG’S
ALL HERE
Are you listenin’ ? Come in and
join the merry crowd in the festivi
ties for Miss Basket Ball on the gala
opening night of the cabaret-night-
club “Larryronde!” Miss Basket Ball
is one of the most popular, and cer
tainly the most powerful of this sea
son’s debutantes—Why, she has al
ready enticed Mr. Reginald Vander-
hopp of New York City, as well as
Harry Gott-Rocks of Atlantic City.
So get together, people, and let’s give
the little girl a great big hand, as
Texas Guinan says.
Are you listenin’? By the way,
Texas herself {per se, according to
Dr. Anscombe) is here in all her
great big blonde glory .... And
that’s not all! Come now, you must
realize that this is the opening nite
(P. V., does that make you
angry?) of one of the Southland’s
unique cabarets. On your left you
rnay see “big-eyed” Eddie Cantor and
little Katie Smith (not our own fav
orite Kate but one who can sing—
melodious tunes) .... Someone said
the incomparable Laurel and Hardy
would be here to play with us ... .
Who is that Italian brunette in the
center? Why Mile. Giovanni Gia-
ninni, of course, who has returned to
Winston-Salem to give Kate the once
over before she usurps her own
throne.
Are you listenin’? .... And there’s
Amelia Earhart looking worn and
weary after a season’s coaching of
basket ball at Salem, poor thing! But
she s a good egg . . ., and look what
training she’s put us in ... . And
there’s Will Rogers, you know the
guy that always likes to talk and wise
crack us all—he’s just had a haircut
and he’s dying to say something about
this roast chicken . . . Now I ask you,
would you have thought that the left
overs from the Senior Dinner could
be as good as this ?
Are you still listenin’ ? Well,
you’re good I
I’m sorry I can’t be at the cabaret
with you tonight, but I’ll be there in
spirit. I hope you have a grand