SOUTH CAROLINA: Quarterback Sneak

Charles ("Pug") Ravenel had set himself an ambitious timetable. He wanted to be reasonably rich by 30, Governor of South Carolina by 36, President of the U.S. by 44. He had achieved his first ambition, and to everyone's surprise, he seemed on the verge of accomplishing the second. In South Carolina's primary last July, he outpolled six other candidates, then went on to trounce favored Congressman William Jennings Bryan Dorn in the runoff. He was expected to have no trouble defeating Republican State Senator James Edwards, 47, a Charleston dentist with a right-wing following, in the November election. But in his zeal to succeed, Ravenel failed to read—or heed—the fine print in the state constitution.

One section of that 75-page document states that no one shall be Governor who has not lived in the state for five years preceding the election. But Ravenel had been away for 15 years—at Harvard, where he became one of the nation's most celebrated quarterbacks, at Harvard Business School, and on Wall Street as an investment banker. He finally returned home in 1972. He was not even aware of the residency requirement until his wife Mollie came across it in a pamphlet put out by the League of Women Voters.

Unlikely Litigants. Not too worried about the provision, Ravenel arranged for the filing of a friendly suit contesting his candidacy. Last April a state circuit court ruled that he was eligible because he had always intended to return to South Carolina. Initially, no one bothered to appeal the decision, probably because Ravenel was not expected to win the primary. But when he did, his opponents began to consider the letter of the law. A suit to overturn Ravenel's candidacy was brought by two unlikely litigants, Ben Dekle, a right-wing disc jockey, and Milton Dukes, a restaurant owner who perpetually runs for office and never wins. Last month the South Carolina Supreme Court ruled 5 to 0 that Ravenel could not run.

Not since Ravenel smashed his nose by running into a telephone pole during a baseball game—earning him the nickname Pug—had he received such a blow.

Continuing to campaign as if the court had not spoken, Ravenel urged Governor John West to call a special session of the legislature to pass a constitutional amendment reducing the residency requirement.

The legislators, irritated by Pug's unrelenting attacks on them, were not buying. When a three-judge federal panel in Columbia upheld the lower court, Ravenel's lone hope was a forlorn one—an appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court, which has ruled in favor of a similar residency requirement in New Hampshire. Last week the hastily reconvened Democratic state convention named Dorn, a conservative who has served 26 years in the House of Representatives, to replace Ravenel. The untidy shuffling of candidates, with the appearance of a quarterback sneak against Ravenel, has given the G.O.P. its first chance to capture the statehouse since 1874.