"It never rains on a Shrine Bowl game."
Believe that?  Half a million spectators who watch the first 27 games would have attested to that truism on December 4, 1964.
But not on December 5, 1964, the day it poured cats, dogs and skunks on 22,000 spectators, who quickly became 10,000 spectators.
It started during the playing of the national anthem just before the 2 P.M. kickoff.  The stands broke out beach umbrellas, cardboard boxes, polyethylene sheeting and football programs.  According to one newswriter, "The field gradually became a pool of caramel-colored muck."
A salesman carrying a large metal container of plastic sheets shouted, "Raincoats, raincoats!" and did a lively trade.
Half-time ceremonies were called off by the General Chairman Tom Belk, because of the "unusually heavy dew."  Two thousand high school band members stuck around to watch the game or headed for dry buses.  Majorettes braved it through and got very cold and very wet.
One sports announcer jotted down many words to use describing the game.  Among them: "quagmire, slush, hogwaller, mire, muck, mess, slipper, soggy, slid, slud."
The 12 thousand who gave up and drove home tuned in to learn that South Carolina gave North Carolina a squishy 20-6 defeat.
Twelve years went by.  Memories dimmed.  Shriners and sportswriters were again saying that "it never rains on a Shrine Bowl game."
Suddenly it was December 11, 1975.  It rained.  Boy, did it rain.
"South Carolina Wins 9-0 in Mud Bowl," read the headlines over Bill Quincy's story.  The writeups all over the Carolinas spoke of mudholes that would discourage a team of mules, of player's shoes disappearing into the mud, of the strategy of both teams trying to get rig of the football.  Quincy noted straight-faced, "There were no long runs, no long passes and, fortunately, no drownings."