 The beer that made Milwaukee famous presents the halls of Ivy starring Mr. Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Good evening, this is Ronald Coleman. I'm Benita Coleman. Inviting you to join us again on the campus of Ivy College as the guests of our sponsors, the brewers of Schlitz beer. The taste of Schlitz, the taste so many people prefer, has made Schlitz beer first in sales in the USA. If you like good beer, do as millions of people are doing all over the nation. Ask for Schlitz, the most popular beer in history. Welcome again to Ivy, Ivy College that is in the town of Ivy USA. In any well-regulated college, the Department of Science, Medicine, Mathematics, and Philosophy are of top-door importance. But there are special interests, caviar to general. The one department which is all things to all students is the campus confectionary, whether it be known as the sugar bowl, the sweet shop, the last straw, or as here at Ivy, calorie corner. It's a place where appetites mingle and emotions are exchanged, where you can discuss the pianistic virtuosities of George Shearing over a hot fudge whip, or you can meet a prostate worse than death. Or if you're Dr. William Todd Hutter Hall, president of Ivy, you can drop in with your wife, as he says to the proprietor. No, Andy, no, no chocolate cream today. Yes, half a pound of the hard-mixed candy, Andy. When Dr. Hall's away, I like to hear the crunch of little lemon drops around the house. Yeah, but Mrs. Hall, you always like the chocolate-covered cream. Yeah, I know, I do. Well, while these days I'm going to the dentist and have my sweet tooth pulled. Mrs. Hall is watching her figure these days, Andy. Well, that's nice work, but you can... Excuse me, Mrs. Hall, I don't mean to get fresh. I just seen your beautiful lady. Thank you, Andy. She calls you a nice lady, which is more beautiful than just being pretty here. You understand the point? I do, and I think we both agree with the man who said that the saying that beauty is only skin-deep is but a skin-deep thing. You said it. No. No, I have adventures, said it. Toddys, I was just wondering, do you think that maybe a little bag of assorted chocolate cream would... No, no, not today, my darling. I won't let you weaken. And besides, I don't like them. No, Andy, half a pound of the mixed hard candy. That's what I love, a husband with character. It balances what I am, just a character with a husband. Okay, these hard candies, here we are. Thank you. How much? Oh, I pull it in the books. No, no, thank you, no, I prefer to pay cash. Excuse me? I said I prefer cash. Yeah, I heard you good the first time, but I like to hear it again. You know, with the kids here next week, Andy, chalk it up, Andy, my allowance has run out, Andy. In this business, you've got to make allowances for allowances. You understand the point? I do, but can you handle a large credit business? Oh, sure, it's simple. I got a system, Mrs. Hart. You say I would like to pay cash, okay, 75 cents. If you say put it on the book, a dollar ten, you see. In financial circles, that is known as a carrying chart. It's an ambiguous term because the people you carry are in a position to let you down. Well, I don't get jipped so very much. A dollar now, a dollar then, but in here, you know, I get a lot of laughs, too. I sell banana splits and chocolate malls and talk woodball and, oh, hey, a house about Delavan. Delavan? Yeah, the coach, you gonna fire him? Father football coach? Well, if I am, and I doubt it very much, it's the first I've heard of it. Where did you hear that rumor? Oh, the kids of everybody, you know, win the game, rah, rah, rah. Lose the game, fire the bomb. You understand the point? Yes, but I assure you, I assure you, I've no such intention, even if it were in my province. Well, I must be going. Good day, Andy. So long, Doc. So long, Mrs. Hall. Bye, Andy. Oh, he forgot to pay. Oh, well, I put it on the book. Dr. Hall, a dollar ten. My dodger, Tony, but it's got to be Mr. Wellman, the eager weasel. My dear, you are speaking of the chairman of the Board of Governors of Ivy College. And I count that day lost whose low descending son sees no attempt by Clarence to keep me on the run. I knew he was coming. Well, daddy, I could see you in your office. You've got no more private life than a flagpole sitter. How would he like it, and his wife like it, if you plattered up his son's door every time your blood pressure went up a point? Oh, the matter of protocol, my love. Chairman of Boards of Governors can run in on presidents, but for presidents to run in on Chairman of Boards of Governors would be would be gauche. And besides, I'm getting so that I almost enjoy these little foxtots as Mr. Wellman. Life to Clarence is an unending series of stuck zippers. And what is the shocking situation, which is there isn't this time? Yeah, he wants to play a tape recording, which he says will curl my hair. I hope I can listen too. I missed my duty parlor appointment yesterday. Oh, darling. Well, what can they do for you that nature hasn't done without child? Well, I suppose nature would wash my hair if I stood out in the rain, but I'll get it. No, no, no, let me. I I enlarge and strung and come better with stand the initial impact of Wellman's personality. Well, now there's one name for it, I suppose. Come in, Mr. Wellman. It's about time. This is a shocking thing, Dr. Hall. In all my years with this college, I have never encountered such a betrayal of trust, such a horrible example of its treason. That's what it is treason and good day, Mrs. Hall. Well, hello, Mr. Wellman. Won't you sit down and... Oh, you brought your phonograph. Who brought fun? Are you a record collector, Mr. Wellman? Have you got any jelly roll, Morton? Any of the early Chicago? It's not a phonograph, Mrs. Hallman. It's a tape recorder, and I did not come here to discuss jazz music. I can't. Where can I put this thing, Dr. Hallman? At your present voltage, Mr. Wellman, I think it would suffice just to hold the plug in your hand. Let me do it. There we are. Now, let me see. I think this is a switch that... No, no, no, wait a minute. First I connect the... What is this recording, Mr. Wellman? Incidentally, do you mind if I listen? I hope you will listen, Mrs. Hall. You can be a witness for the prosecution. I mean, the more people who understand what's going on, look. This is a tape recording of a talk given by Coach Delavan in the locker room just before last Saturday's game to the team. Who made the recording? That is beside the point. The main thing is that it's definite proof that we have been betrayed, Dr. Hallman. Did Coach Delavan know he was being recorded? Of course not. You think he would have dared to make such a... If you had ever suspected that, what I mean is one of the alumni with the best interests of this college at heart. Arrange a hip... Mr. Hall, what are you doing? I am pulling the plug, Mr. Wellman. But why, if you don't listen to this recording, how can you know that? What I mean... I mean, your attitude... I can't understand what... Mr. Wellman. What is it? For all I know, Coach Delavan may be guilty of treason, arson, forgery, grand larceny, and baritry. I doubt it, as I admire him as a sportsman and a gentleman, but I cannot think of a more unsportsmanlike thing than to record his remorse without his being aware of it. An invasion of privacy, fully equivalent to tapping a telephone wire or reading someone else's mail. This is a police state tactic, Mr. Wellman, and we do not live in a police state. I will not be a party to it. May I join the party that won't recruit? I don't agree with you, Dr. Hall. Not for a minute. The end deserves a mean. Your responsibility as a president. My responsibility as president of this college, Mr. Wellman, entails a deep respect for due processes of law and democratic procedure. We'll listen to this recording on one condition. Let Coach Delavan be invited over here to listen with us. I don't see the next... I mean, my goodness, if he makes a speech to our students, he doesn't want to be made public. That sort of is the point, Mr. Wellman. I think he wasn't speaking for publication, so he shouldn't be publicized without his knowledge and approval. All right, call him up. Maybe he'd better hear it. He can't deny he said it. It's all right here on the table. Go ahead, call him up. I shall. If only to maintain my own superior status, as suggested by Mr. Horace Greeley. Suggested how? By saying, I am the inferior of any man whose rights I trample underfoot. A mighty fine compliment paid to me the other day by, of all people, old Doc Gadsby. Doc's been teaching Greek here at Ivy since, well, shortly after Plato passed on. Just happened I ran into Doc coming out of the library the other day, and I wanted to see him. Well, Dr. Gadsby. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Ken Carpenter. Remember you, my boy. I remember you very well. Very well. In fact, I use you as an example in my classes. I cite you as the neoclassic, 20th century Demosthenes. That's quite a citation, but if you pardon the expression, it's Greek to me. Would you get a translate, Doctor? Nothing I'd like that again. Neocourse means new. And I'm sure you know what a classic you are. As for Demosthenes, he talked to the sea with pebbles in his mouth. You, Mr. Carpenter, talk to millions about slips. And your enthusiasm suggests that you have, on occasion, rolled slips over your tongue. Am I right? Of course you sure are, Dr. Gadsby. I admire the taste of slips every bit as much as the millions of Americans who've made it first in sales in the USA. No, slips is a great beer because it's brewed to the highest standards of greatness. I presume you're saying that because the brewers of slips translate fine barley and hops and yeast into a beer that is specifically intended to taste better, that it really does. And the public knows it, and acts on that knowledge. Well, please, Doc, that's it exactly. How did you know? Ken, beer has been a marvelous beverage since antiquity. I don't know how beer tasted in ancient Greece, but I can tell you that today, on those occasions when I've tasted slips, I've found no reason to doubt that it's, what is that phrase you mentioned? Oh, I said the slips is the most popular beer in history. I have no doubt, Ken. No doubt whatsoever. And now if you'll pardon me, I'll be running along. I'd much rather enjoy a bottle of slips before bedtime than talk about it, even to you. Oh, I wouldn't keep you for the world, Doc. I'll share the same pleasure myself shortly. Good night. As we return to the halls of Ivy, head coach Delevan has just arrived to hear the pregame tape recording made without his knowledge in the locker room by an anonymous alumnus known only to Mr. Wellman. Delevan says, what's this all about, Doc? Oh, I'd be very glad to tell you. I'll tell you. It's about that speech you made before the game last Saturday. Petscock, I believe some people call it, but that's not what I call it. But what do you call it, Mr. Wellman? I call it betrayal, Mrs. Hall Treason. That's what I call it. Well, I guess I must say that you're a traitor, Mr. Wellman. We won last Saturday's game. Didn't you read the paper? Yes, I read the paper, Delevan. I was also at the game. I was also at the previous two games, which we lost, Delevan. If you keep pulling your lips back over your teeth like that, Mr. Wellman, you're liable to get them caught behind your ears. Impertinent won't help you. This is a sort of exhibition of... Mr. Wellman. Yes, Doc Hall. May I say that you're being a little intemperate. Mr. Delevan is not only ignorant of the charges with which he has not yet been confronted, but he doesn't even know why he's here. No, I don't. But I gather I've been a naughty boy somehow, and I'm being investigated. Well, you'll survive it. After a lifetime on the gridiron, what are a few minutes on the grill? Coach, let me explain why you were invited over. But you're not welcome at any time. Don't worry, of course, yes, yes. It seems that some eager alumnus who prefers to remain anonymous for obvious reasons of caution and shame... Nothing of the kind. He was merely... And Mr. Wellman... Coward. Coach, this bashful but bitter alumnus made a tape recording without your knowledge or permission of your pre-game talk to the team last Saturday. Well, I'd like to have a copy. I thought it was one of my better efforts. I thought it was one of the worst bits of... Yeah, stop leaping up and down, Mr. Wellman. You're ruining the springs and the sofa. It's still, Mr. Wellman. And upon learning that this recording was made without your knowledge or consent, Coach, I considered it unfair to you to listen to it and bless you a present. Now, shall we play it? Why not? Unless I use some enthusiastic language that Mrs. Hall might find embarrassing. Remember, this was in the locker room, not in chapel. Oh, but don't mind me. I'm not the lady who refused to buy the property in Boulder City because they told her it was the best bargain by a damn side. What are we waiting for? Let's play the tape. Uh, with your approval, Coach? Certainly. I think I can bear up under the strain. All right, go ahead, Mr. Wellman. All right, you heroes, get around. This is it. Hey, Chuck, come on, come on. Hey, get up. Come on, come on. Be quiet. Oh, sorry, Coach. How's the shoulder, Wilson? Okay, Coach, huh? All right, I'll take your word for it. But you know my policy. I'd rather lose a game than cripple a play. Oh, sure. Any of you men who have minor injuries or might be seriously aggravated in a tough game, tell me now. We're all right. Yeah, I know. I say this every week during the season, but I mean it every week. I like to win football games, but to me, football is sport, not a gang war. When the box office and the headlines gets to mean more than teamwork, group effort, prime physical condition, and sportsmanship, I want to come back to teaching mathematics. I'd rather put co-signs on blackboards and boys on stretching. When you get through playing football for me, I want you to graduate with a normal number of arms and the legs, and your brain's no more scrambled than usual. Now look, today we're up against a smart set of cookies. Oh, here, when we ran the pictures of last week's game, you were caught out of position three times. Yeah, I know. Girlikosti, when you'll receive a pass. I'm sorry, Coach. Why did you try to talk, Mr. Wellman? I was just getting set to go out and do or die for dear old Ivy. The rest is technicalities, Mrs. Hall. Now, Dr. Hall, do you see what I mean? Did you hear this man telling our football team he didn't care if we won or not? Did you hear? I heard everything you heard, Mr. Wellman. And I must say I didn't hear a single word with which I could disagree. He was talking to a group of students who were playing football, not to a group of professional football players who got stranded in the college. Don't you mean to say, Dr. Hall, that you approve of this man's defeatist attitude? That's a good attitude, too. Go out and defeat him, but stay alive. Practically encouraging them. They'd be little gentlemen and throw football games. I mean, when a player is told to stay out of the game, if you have to soar tall, you hurt right here. Look, do you realize how much money this college can lose at the end of the year with a losing team? How can we keep the support of the alumni when our own head coach? But not for long. If I have anything to do with it, and I do. When our own head coach has no winning spirit, how can... Mr. Wellman, yes. I've been hearing and reading a great deal lately in the newspapers and magazines about commercialism in football and the overemphasis on sports. But this is the closest I've come to what it really means. I've come quite close, myself. I had black hair when I came here five years ago, and look at me now. Pure white. Ah, well, he's very becoming, too. You can pay Chris Quingle for our next Christmas coach. Well, if I don't, Mrs. Hall, it'll be because Santa is the only clause they haven't got in my contract. Ever read a coach's contract? No, no. But I've always remembered what those two men must have in the radio. The big print, give it to you, and the little print, take it away. And believe me, Delavan's contract is full of little prints. Delavan, may we have your resignation? Well, not right now, Mr. Wellman. No, you may have to file an extremity to which I doubt we shall resort. It's not an extremity to doubt which I shall resort. I mean, an extremity which to resort. I mean, who which resort? Yeah, well, give it up, Mr. Wellman. You haven't paid your syntax. In any case, Mr. Wellman, I'd like to talk it over with a few interested people first. Dr. Hall, my wife. Is her name Cinderella by any chance? No, it's Christine. Why, Mrs. Hall? I just wondered. Anyone who has to sit around waiting for her coach to turn into a pumpkin. I don't think Mr. Delavan's clock will strike midnight for quite a while, Vicky. Not as long as I am the mainspring. Thanks, doctor. But I'd also have to consult the assistant coaches and some of the boys. Mr. Wellman, is this a one-man elimination contest for the way? It certainly is not. If you could read the letters I've been getting from the alumni, the wealthy alumni, the backbone of our financial structure. And I have a meeting with some of them in just 18 minutes, so I'll say goodnight. Good night. And I can find my own way out. Oh, why do you say that? You're being very compassionate to the man who wants to destroy you. He can't destroy me, Dr. Hall. My business is largely a matter of imparting the knowledge that a poke in the nose is not necessarily fatal. He belongs to the school that pokes people in the nose and wonders why they don't dead. So I was losing livelihood with a mere poke in the nose, coach? In fact, I've been poised delicately on the point of resigning for two years. Oh, I didn't know that. Is it because of this sort of thing? Yes. Is there a solution? You just win all the games. It's what they call a saturated solution. That would be one answer, I suppose. But my own solution is so drastic the Alumni Association and the Board of Governors wouldn't consider it. Inframural games are small games with adjacent schools. Take the big commercialism out of it or cut it down. Now, it's been done. Hutchins topped into collegiate football in 1940. Yeah, Chicago is still a pretty good university. Yeah. I hope that doesn't sound patronizing. My wife wants me to get out of it. Give back the teaching mathematics. Well, the theory that the safety in numbers, I suppose. Something of a sort. She doesn't like to hear students and the alumni hissing and booing my picture in the newsreel when I lose a game. She gets threatening phone calls too when I'm not home. My kids get beat up at school. It's graceful. Apparently, a goose egg on the scoreboard can hatch some pretty ugly ducklings. When you win, you're a great man, coach. And when you lose, your public enemies won the 10-inclusive. No, Delevan, to me, that talk of yours was real sportsmanship. It's regrettable that Mr. Wellman's attitude represents the current idea of sports. If sports and sportsmanship can grow this far apart. Oh, for goodness' s sake, did Mr. Wellman forget his recording, miss? No, no, he took it. Well, I'll see who it is. I mean, excuse me, coach. My sure. Mr. Meriwether, come in. Thank you, Bill. I have it from the sour grapevine that Brother Wellman has been here with his little snooper grass. Oh, I thought I'd better... Oh, hello, Mrs. Hall. Hello, Mr. Meriwether. Well, hello, Delevan. Hello, Charles. Well, as one sort of introduction's eliminated, it's nice to see you, Mr. Meriwether. You don't know how nice it is for me to see you, Mrs. Hall, particularly after just seeing Mr. Wellman. Like stepping out of a tannery into a flower shop. Mr. Wellman did his best to convert us into a tannery. He's off the coach Delevan's hide. I think he wants a new binding for his back book. Did the snapping turtle play his little opera for you? The locker room laundry? Lady, it was a considerable critical comment. You've heard it, I have. And I must say, Delevan, I wish you'd been my coach when I was a big football hero. What a ham I was. Well, it's the balance of nature, Mr. Meriwether. Pigskin comes around a ham, so you'll find hams around a pigskin. What do you wish I'd been, your coach, Charles? Well, mine sent me into a game knowing I had a bad knee. Now I genuflect every time I take a deep breath, which is every time I see Mrs. Hall. And a graceful compliment, if I ever had one. Social touchdown. Wasn't it, though? You want to try for the extra point, Mr. Meriwether? Not with this knee. Did you folks know I defined a football once? How? Well, it was when I was taken out of the game with a busted knee and I was pretty bitter. Hated the game. So in the hospital, I worked out the definition of a football. The nasty one, too. Now let's hear it. Football. An ellipsoid made from the inflated sap of a tree covered with the skin of a pig which is kicked, bounced, thrown, and pursued by 22 saps for the edification of 50,000 screaming pigs. Oh, my, you were bitter, weren't you? Ah, yes, ma'am, I was. I was also an authority on the subject because I was one of the saps for almost four years and I'm still one of the screaming pigs every Saturday afternoon. Gentlemen, Wilman and a few others want your scalp. I'm on your side if you want a fight. So am I. Where do we line up? Can a girl play? Well, thanks, all of you. I appreciate it. As there is an opening in the mathematics department, there's approximately $3,500 less than you're making now. On the other hand, we might follow the example of Dr. Frederick Hubdy of Purdue. He's just given Coach Holcomb a tenure contract on the theory that he was entitled to the same security enjoyed by the rest of the academic staff. Oh, that's a revolutionary attitude, a coach being considered a human being. I think we could get something similar through for you here, coach. Wilman has a loud voice, but it's the only one he has. Well, a $3,500 sacrifice in the salary would be a cheap price to pay for quiet home life and to get out from under the pressure. But no, I can't run away from it. Won't help the game or solve any problems if I walk out and... But that's certainly entitled to your share of a quiet life, personal liberty, and the pursuit of your own happiness. I know, but I love football. I don't think we have to read the funeral service over it yet. Maybe if I get together with some other school, through the coaches association, we can eliminate some of the evils. My hair can't get any wider than it is. I wouldn't feel that I was ratting out on a bunch of wonderful kids. Well, thanks, I'll stick it out for a while. And I appreciate your decision and admire you, for it, coach. As the three of you well know, I'm slightly demented on the subject of Ivy College's principal objective, to educate, inform, and build character. Oh, naturally, I like to see Ivy win games, but if you'll forgive what may sound like a rather staffy remark, I would rather lose them with honor than make any compromise with integrity. Now, coach, you're carrying the ball for this school, and we'll run interference for you the best we can. Spoken like a real fan, Doc. No, no, please, please. If it's not fan, then feel the ass, yes. A fissu nado, supporter, but not fan, I don't like the word. Why not, Lottie? Because, like Mr. Meriwether here, I am a collector of definitions, too. To me, the word fan connotes a device designed primarily to disturb and distribute a mass of hot air. I think we'll have some beer, shall we? The halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman, has been presented by Schlitt, the beer that made Milwaukee famous. The taste of Schlitt. The taste so many people prefer has made Schlitt's beer first in sales in the USA. Why don't you two enjoy the most popular beer in history? Next time, every time, ask for Schlitt's beer. Now, here again, our Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Good night, everybody. Good night from all of us. And from our sponsor, the Joseph Schlitt's Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and its thousands of friendly dealers throughout the nation. Thank you. Good night. We'll be seeing you next week at this same time at the Halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Mr. Wellman is played by Herbert Butterfield. Mr. Meriwether was Gail Gordon. Andy was Alan Reed. And Coach Delavan was Ken Christie. Tonight's script was written by Don Quinn. Music was composed and conducted by Henry Russell. The Halls of Ivy was treated by Don Quinn, directed by Nat Wolfe, and presented for the Joseph Schlitt's Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Who invites you to enjoy on television the Schlitt's Playhouse of Stars with Helen Hayes, Margaret Sullivan, John Payne, and more of the brightest names of Hollywood and Broadway. See your newspaper for time and channel. Ken Carpenter speaking.