Columbia, No Gem of the Gridiron : Fans Retain a Sound--and Cheerful--Perspective Despite Lions’ 30-Game Losing Streak

Roar, Lion, roar, and wake the echoes of the Hudson Valley. --Columbia University fight song

Interesting thing about Columbia’s football team. Not one player is studying broadcasting, even though that has replaced physical education as the preferred major of many players at the larger universities.

Another interesting thing about Columbia’s football team is that it has lost 30 games in a row. If it keeps this up, it will break Northwestern’s National Collegiate Athletic Assn. record of 34 consecutive losses on Oct. 10, 1987, when it plays Princeton.

Still, hopes were high, at least for no rain, last Saturday when Columbia’s 58-man squad suited up for what proved a frank and cordial exchange of fumbles here with a delegation of hearties from Cornell.

The pregame festivities outside Wein Stadium, Columbia’s home field, featured tailgate parties with very dry martinis and strolling scalpers who gently murmured: “Seven-dollar tickets for only $5.”

But then, this is the Ivy League.

The multitudes included an elderly lady swathed in mink. She carried a hand-painted sign that read “Go Big Red.” That meant Cornell, not the chewing gum, a new-to-the-league visitor was told.

It was a day of occasional sun and numbing cold. Inside the stadium, however, and even though no beer is sold there, the Columbia faithful were cheering lustily, at least for the Columbia marching band’s musical salute to Dr. Ruth Westheimer.

But when this was halted by the start of a football game, the impatience that has persisted at Columbia for some time could be noticed. For example, when Cornell gained 12 yards on a pass, a young Columbia fan in horn-rimmed glasses said of his team: “That’s bad coverage. That stinks.”

“Go for the field goal,” sneered another in the party as Cornell marched--OK, a few guys also fell down--to the Lion 30.

But a third member of their group--all appeared to be what some call Yuppies--refused to abandon hope. “Come on, guys, make it difficult,” he pleaded as Cornell stalled at the Lion 11.

The eight ladies and gentlemen of the Lion cheerleading squad, clad in Columbia blue and white, refused to abandon hope. “Dee-fense, dee-fense, get that ball!” they chanted.

Alas, four minutes into the game, Cornell fullback Jeff Johnson, a business management major, made his way into Columbia’s end zone. That augered ill for the Lions, 32-point favorites to lose when they took to the field.

On the bright side, no Columbian was heard to chant, “Beat the spread,” which is said to have become a school cheer of sorts.

The bad news, other than that the Lions must still face Brown today before this season is over, was symbolized by the Wein Stadium public address announcer. As the game wore on, he kept saying things about the Lions like “fourth and eight,” “fourth and 16” and even “fourth and 27.”

The lads fought bravely, and showed a lot of heart. But it must take something out of even the stoutest heart when the stadium announcer, during a lull in the action, says: “Attention Columbia class of ’52. There will be a cocktail reception at the boathouse after the game.”

They pay a lot more attention to football at UCLA and Michigan and places like that. They also pay a lot more attention to the marching bands for the halftime show. Cornell did. Its band had four tubas. Columbia’s had none.

“A guy in law school occasionally plays for us,” said a tambourine player in the Lion orchestra. “But I guess he’s not here today.”

It must be noted that this marching band consists of 35 free spirits who would fit nicely into Pasadena’s annual Doo-Dah Parade. Columbia’s en foot ensemble even has a violinist, Catherine Censor.

A freshman, she was asked why people keep showing up at Columbia games. She explained things this way: “Some people like hockey fights, some people collect Coke cans and some people watch Columbia football.”

Down on the field, meanwhile, Columbia fumbled on its 20-yard line just 30 seconds before halftime. Cornell, whose turn it was to use the football, scored on the next play, making it 14-0.

“They used to be great,” sighed a volunteer usher, Tim O’Neill, Columbia ‘50, a tall, ruddy-faced man with a soft-spoken Irish mix of wry humor and mild resignation. He was asked what might happen if the current Lions won.

“They’d go crazy,” he said, nodding at the Columbia faithful in the stands. “But there aren’t enough people here to make much whoopee.”

Indeed. Wein Stadium can hold 17,000 patrons. On this cold, brisk Saturday, it held 4,720.

After halftime, when Columbia’s marching band saluted Cornell’s famed school of animal husbandry with a ragged rendition of “Talk to the Animals,” one of the Lion minstrels sat down to talk to a visitor.

A cheery kid, the young Lion asked to be identified only as the unknown band member. Sure, he said, it would be nice to win. But it’s only a game, he said, and education, not football, is--or should be--the main event.

As he spoke, Cornell scored again, making it 21-0. The unknown band member shrugged. He cited the relaxed atmosphere, the lack of big-time college hoopla and pressure, the sheer fun of getting out on a brisk fall afternoon.

“This is what college football should be, not a pro training camp,” he said.

His words lingered long after Columbia’s 30th consecutive loss, long after Cornell made the outcome 28-0, long after the Columbia Lions refused to say die and called a timeout with only 34 seconds left in the game.