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Crimson Eight Nets Victory O'er 'Poon

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

In one of the most stirring triumphs ever recorded by an American crew, the CRIMSON eight yesterday overcame every disadvantage and extended its undefeated record by thrashing its Lampoon challengers by an unprecedented margin of 11 1/2 lengths.

Old oarsmen lined the shores, cheering as the sculling Crimeds, unpracticed since they retired the Janiero Cup on the Tagus last year, clocked the astonishing time of 4:22.3 over the measured mile. As one veteran, himself once known as "the Jim Thorpe of rowing"--exclaimed, "These youngsters have shown out here today that skill and integrity still have a place in collegiate athletics."

Unfortunately, the contest was also distinguished in a different and uglier way. It is necessary to say here that The Lampoon put on a brutish display of calculated poor sportsmanship. Even the 'Poon's most hardened critics were appalled at her vicious effort to avoid defeat.

From the moment when a still unidentified 'Punie loosened the bow oarlock of his rivals' boat, to the bitter assault on CRIMSON cox Michael Churchill after the contest, the 'Punies spared nothing in their efforts to interrupt the inevitable progress of the race.

After the first three strokes had been rowed, with the CRIMSON shell knifing to an early lead, the 'Poon cox raised his hand, and the starter, himself an officer of the humor magazine, called for a new start. Again the Crimeds shot ahead.

As the losing boat trailed the leaders through the centre span of the Western Avenue bridge, a group of 'Punie candidates combined knavery and imcompetence in a disastrous effort to bring victory to their Bow Street masters. Scuttling out on the bridge, they flung a coarse fishing net over the side to snare the shell passing below. The net, traditionally used to "spider" and swing new editors during their colorful initiations, unerringly fell on the 'Poon boat, almost capsizing its old friends.

By the time the 'Punies were disengaged, the CRIMSON shell, dodging between the obstructive wherries which 'Poon editors rowed in its path, shot under the Weeks Memorial footbridge. In a final, desperate attempt more 'Punie hopefuls hurled sacks of flour and a rubber dinghy after it. But it was no use, for upping the stroke to a climatic 48, the Crimeds stretched to a racing finish and crossed the line as cheers echoed across the river

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