It is our sincere belief that Princeton lost to the Navy in the final contest of the 1928 football campaign not because her team was outclassed by the Annapolis eleven, but because her nominal adherents in the stands were effectively taken out by a vociferous and enthusiastic corps of midshipmen.
Ten days ago one might have closed one's eyes in the Palmer Stadium and imagined oneself at a cricket match, were it not for the visitors' cheering section. It is not difficult to see what prompted the Amherst Student of October 7th to remark, "About 18,000 watched the start of the game, per custom more Lord Jeff supporters than Orange and Black."
At the Brown fiasco last Saturday, an observer in the press box reported that the Princeton stands were even more inaudible than they had been the week previous. It is fortunate that the mutterings against the officials which took the place of positive support could not be heard on the field.
Unless this attitude changes, Princeton will be faced with the alternatives of taking beatings as a matter of course, or of adopting much softer schedules. We can envisage neither situation with equanimity. It is axiomatic that Princeton has been most successful when her teams have been facing the biggest odds; this has been due in large measure to the enthusiastic co-operation of the entire University. Last year there was much talk on the Campus about making the schedule harder. Well, Amherst and Brown were no set-ups, and the next five will all be bigger and tougher. Bill Roper and the team can make little ones out of them, however, if the undergraduates are willing to do their part. They will have a chance to show such willingness at the mass meeting tomorrow night. --The Princetonian.