Book: Football Days

W >> William H. Edwards >> Football Days




"DeWitt's team beat Cornell 44-0. For years there hung on the walls of
the Osborn Club at Princeton a splendid action picture of Dana Kafer
making one of the touchdowns in that game. It was a mass on tackle play,
and Jim Cooney was getting his Cornell opponent out of the way for Kafer
to go over the line. The picture gave Jim dead away. He had a firm grip
of the Cornell man's jersey and arm. Ten years or more afterward, a
group, including Cooney, was sitting in the Osborn Club. In a spirit of
fun one man said, 'Jim, we know now how you got your reputation as a
tackle. We can see it right up there on the wall.' The next day the
picture was gone.

"After I was graduated from Princeton in 1907 I went to Merton College,
Oxford. There are twenty-two different colleges in Oxford and eighteen
in Cambridge. Each one has its own teams and crews and plays a regular
schedule. From the best of these college teams the university teams are
drawn. Each college team has a captain and a secretary, who acts as
manager. At the beginning of the college year (early October) the
captain and secretary of each team go around among the freshmen of the
college and try to get as many of them as possible to play their
particular sport; mine Rugby football. After a few days the captain
posts on the college bulletin board, which is always placed at the
Porter's Lodge, a notice that a squash will be held on the college
field. A squash is what we would call practice.

[Illustration: "THE NEXT DAY THE PICTURE WAS GONE"

Jim Cooney Making a Hole for Dana Kafer.]

"Sometimes for a few days before the game an Old Blue may come down to
Oxford and give a little coaching to the team. Here often the captain
does all the coaching. The Cambridge match is for blood, and, while
friendly enough, is likely to be much more savage than any other. In the
match I played in, which Oxford won 35-3, the record score in the whole
series, which started in 1872, we had three men severely injured. In the
first three minutes of the game one of our star backs was carried off
the field with a broken shoulder, while our captain was kicked in the
head and did not come out of his daze until about seven o'clock that
evening. He played throughout the game, however. Our secretary was off
the field with a knee cap out of place for more than half the game. A
game of Rugby, by the way, consists of two 45-minute halves, with a
three minute intermission. There are no substitutes, and if a man is
injured, his team plays one man short. We beat Cambridge that year with
thirteen men the greater part of the game, twelve for some time against
their full team of fifteen. Their only try (touchdown in plain American)
was scored when we had twelve men on the field. We were champions of
England that year, and did not lose a match through the fall season,
though we tied one game with the great Harlequins Club of London, whom
we afterward beat in the return game. Of the fine fellows who made up
that great Oxford team, six are dead, five of them 'somewhere in
France.'"

Carl Flanders was a big factor in the Yale rush line. Foster Sanford
considers him one of the greatest offensive centers that ever played. He
was six feet three and one-fourth inches tall and weighed 202 pounds.

In 1906 Flanders coached the Indian team at Carlisle. Let us see some of
the interesting things that characterize the Indian players, through
Flanders' experience.

The nicknames with which the Indians labelled each other were mostly
those of animals or a weapon of defense. Mount Pleasant and Libby always
called each other Knife. Bill Gardner was crowned Chicken Legs, Charles,
one of the halfbacks, and a regular little tiger, was called Bird Legs.
Other names fastened to the different players were Whale Bone, Shoe
String, Tommyhawk and Wolf.

The Indians always played cleanly as long as their opponents played that
way. Dillon, an old Sioux Indian, and one of the fastest guards I ever
saw, was a good example of this. If anybody started rough play, Dillon
would say:

"Stop that, boys!" and the chap who was guilty always stopped. But if
an opponent continually played dirty football, Dillon would say grimly:
"I'll get you!" On the next play or two, you'd never know how, the rough
player would be taken out. Dillon had "got" his man.

"Wallace Denny and Bemus Pierce got up a code of signals, using an
Indian word which designated a single play. Among the Indian words which
designated these signals were Water-bucket, Watehnee, Coocoohee. I never
could find out what it all meant, and following the Indian team by this
code of signals was a task which was too much for me."

Bill Horr, renowned in Colgate and Syracuse, writes: "Colgate University
and Colgate Academy are under the same administration, and the football
teams were practicing when I entered school. I went out for the team and
after the second practice I was put into the scrimmage. I was greatly
impressed with the game and continued for the afternoon practice, and
played at tackle in the first game of the season. In four years of
winning football I became acquainted with such wonderful athletes as
Riley Castleman and Walter Runge of the Colgate Varsity team.

"In the fall of 1905 I entered Syracuse University and played right
tackle on the varsity team for four years and was captain of the
victorious 1908 team. In the four years I never missed a scrimmage or a
game.

"I think that one of the hardest games I ever played in was the game
against Princeton in 1908, when they had such stars as Siegling,
MacFadyen, Eddie Dillon and Tibbott. The game ended in a scoreless tie
with the ball see-sawing back and forth on the 40-yard line. I had been
accustomed to carry the ball, and had been successful in executing a
forward pass of fifty-five yards in the Yale game the week before,
placing the ball on the 1-yard line, only to lose it on a fumble.

"I had the reputation of being a good-natured player, and indirectly
heard it rumored many times by coaches and football players that they
would like to see me fighting mad on the football field. The few
Syracuse rooters who journeyed to Easton the day we played Lafayette had
that opportunity. Dowd was the captain of the Lafayette team. Next to me
was Barry, a first-class football player, who stripped in the
neighborhood of 200 pounds. Just before the beginning of the second half
I was in a crouching position ready to start, when some one dealt me a
stinging blow on the ear. I was dazed for the time being. I turned to
Barry and asked him who did it. He pointed to Dowd. From that instant I
was determined to seek revenge. I was ignorant of the true culprit until
about a year afterward, when Anderson, who played center, and was a good
friend of mine, told me about it. It seemed that just before we went on
the field for the second half Buck O'Neil, who was coaching the Syracuse
team, told Barry to hit me and make me mad."




CHAPTER X

COLLEGE TRADITIONS AND SPIRIT


College life in America is rich in traditions. Customs are handed down
class by class and year by year until finally they acquire the force of
law. Each college and university has a community life and a character of
its own.

The spirit of each institution abides within its walls. It cannot be
invaded by an outsider, or ever completely understood by one who has not
grown up in it. The atmosphere of a college community is conservative.
It is the outcome of generations of student custom and thought, which
have resolved themselves into distinct grooves.

It requires a thorough understanding of the customs of college men,
their antics and pranks, to appreciate the fact that the performers are
simply boys, carrying on the traditions of those gone before.
Gray-haired graduates who know by experience what is embodied in college
spirit, join feelingly in the old customs of their college days, and in
observing the new customs which have grown out of the old.

These traditional customs, some of them humorous, and others deeply
moving in their sentiment, are among the first things that impress the
freshman. He does not comprehend the meaning of them at once, nor does
he realize that they are the product of generations of students, but he
soon learns that there is something more powerful in college life than
the brick and mortar of beautiful buildings, or high passing marks in
the classroom. When he comes to know the value and the underlying spirit
of the traditions of his college, he treasures them among the enduring
memories of his life.

The business man who never enjoyed the advantage of going to college, is
puzzled as he witnesses the demonstration of undergraduate life, and he
fails to catch the meaning; he does not understand; it has played no
part in his own experience; college customs seem absurd to him, and he
fails to appreciate that in these traditions our American college spirit
finds expression.

As an outsider views the result of a football victory, he sees perhaps
only the bitter look of defeat on the losers' faces, and is at a loss to
understand the loyal spirit of thousands of graduates and undergraduates
who stand and cheer their team after defeat. Such a sight, undoubtedly,
impresses him; but he turns his attention to the triumphant march of the
victorious sympathizers around the field and watches the winners being
borne aloft by hero worshipers; while hats by the thousands are being
tossed over the cross bar of the goal post that carried the winning
play.

The snake dance of thousands of exulting students enlivens the
scene--the spirit of glorious victory breaks loose.

After the Harvard victory in 1908, in the midst of the excitement, a
Harvard graduate got up from his seat, climbed over the fence, put his
derby hat and bull-dog pipe on the grass, walked solemnly out a few
paces, turned two complete handsprings, walked back, put on his hat,
picked up his pipe, climbed solemnly over the fence again and took his
place in the crowd. He was very businesslike about it and didn't say a
word. He had to get it out of his system--that was all. Nobody laughed
at him.

One sees gray-haired men stand and cheer, sing and enthuse over their
Alma Mater's team. For the moment the rest of the world is forgotten.
Tears come with defeat to those on the grandstand, as well as to the
players, and likewise happy smiles and joyous greetings come when
victory crowns the day.

In the midst of a crisis in the game, men and women, old and young,
break over the bounds of conventionality, get acquainted with their seat
mates and share the general excitement. The thrill of victory possesses
them and the old grads embrace each other after a winning touchdown.

There may be certain streets in a college town upon which a freshman is
never seen. It may be that a freshman has to wear a certain kind of cap;
his trousers must not be rolled up at the bottom. And if you should see
a freshman standing on a balcony at night, singing some foolish song,
with a crowd of sophomores standing below, you smile as you realize that
you are witnessing the performance of some college custom.

And if you see a young man dressed in an absurd fantastic costume, going
about the streets of a city, or a quiet college town, it may mean an
initiation into a certain society or club, and you will note that he
does his part with a quiet, earnest look upon his face, realizing that
he is carrying on a tradition which has endured for years.

You hear the seniors singing on the campus, while the whole college
listens. It is their hour. At games you see the cheer leaders take their
places in front of the grandstand, and as they bend and double
themselves into all sorts of shapes, they bring out the cheers which go
to make college spirit strong.

If you were at Yale, on what is known as "Tap Day," you would view in
wonderment the solemnity and seriousness of the occasion. An election to
a senior society is Yale's highest honor. As you sit on the old Yale
fence you realize what it means to Yale men. In the secret life of the
campus men yearn most for this honor and the traditional gathering of
seniors under the oak tree for receiving elections is a college custom
that has all the binding force of a most rigid law.


ALUMNI PARADES

Then come the alumni parades at Commencement. The old timers head the
procession; those who came first, are first in line, and so on down to
the youngest and most recent graduate.

There are many interesting things in the parade, which bring out
specific class peculiarities. In one college you may see gray-haired men
walking behind an immense Sacred Bird, as it is called. This Bird--the
creation of an ingenious mind--is the size of an ostrich and has all the
semblance of life, with many lifelike tricks and habits.

Men dress in all sorts of costumes. This is a day in which each class
has some peculiar part, and all are united in the one big thought that
it is a cherished college custom.

You may see some man with the letter of his college on his sweater,
another may have his class numerals, another may wear a gold football.
These are not ordinary things to be purchased at sporting goods stores;
they are a reward of merit. The college custom has made it so, and if in
some college town the traditions of the university are such that a man,
as he passes the Ma Newell gateway at Cambridge raises his hat in honor
of this great Harvard hero, it is a tradition backed up by a wonderful
spirit of love towards one who has gone. And then on Commencement Day
when the seniors plant their class ivy--that is a token to remain behind
them and flourish long after they are out in the wide, wide world.

College tradition makes it possible for a poor boy to get an education.
The poor fellow may wait on the table, where sit many rich men's sons,
but they may be all chums with him; they are on the same footing; the
campus of one is the campus of the other, and all you can say is "It is
just the way of things--just the way it must be." More power to the man
who works his way through college.

It may be, as fellow college man, you are now recalling some custom that
is carried out on a college street, in a dormitory, in a fraternity
house, perhaps, or a club; perhaps in some boarding house, where you had
your first introduction to a college custom; maybe in the cheapest
rooming house in town you got your first impression of a bold, bad
sophomore. You probably could have given him a good trouncing had he
been alone, and yet you were prepared to take smilingly the hazing
imposed upon you.

Maybe some of you fondly recall a cannon stuck in the ground behind a
historical building where once George Washington had his headquarters.
Around about this traditional monument cluster rich memories as you
review the many college ceremonies enacted there.

Some of you, owing allegiance to a New England Alma Mater, may recall
with smiles and perhaps mischievous satisfaction, the chequered career
of the sculptured Sabrina in her various appearances and disappearances
since the day, now long gone by, when in pedestaled repose she graced
the college flower gardens. The Sabrina tradition is one of the golden
legacies of Amherst life.

In the formation of college spirit and traditions I am not unmindful of
the tremendous moulding power of the college president or the popular
college professors. This is strikingly illustrated in the expression of
an old college man, who said in this connection:

"I don't remember a thing Professor ---- said, but I remember him."

When the graduate of a college has sons of his own, he realizes more
fully than at any other time the great influence of personality upon
youth. He understands better the problems that are faced by boys, and
the great task and responsibility of the faculty.

I know that there are many football men who at different times in their
career have not always praised the work of the college professors, but
now that the games are over they probably look back affectionately to
the men who made them toe the mark, and by such earnestness helped them
through their college career.

It is undoubtedly true that the head masters and teachers in our
preparatory schools and colleges generally appreciate the importance of
developing the whole man, mental, moral and physical.


SCHOOLMASTER AND BOY

Indeed it is a wonderful privilege to work shoulder to shoulder with the
boys in our preparatory schools as well as in our colleges. At a recent
dinner I heard Doctor S. J. McPherson, of the Lawrenceville School,
place before an alumni gathering a sentiment, which I believe is the
sentiment of every worthy schoolmaster in our land.

"Schoolmasters have attractive work and they can find no end of fun in
it. I admit that in a boarding school they should be willing to spend
themselves, eight days in the week and twenty-five hours a day. But no
man goes far that keeps watching the clock. There may be good reasons
for long vacations, but I regard the summer vacation as usually a bore
for at least half the length of it.

"To be worth his salt, a schoolmaster must, of course, have
scholarship--the more the better. But that alone will never make him a
quickening teacher. He must be 'apt to teach,' and must lose himself in
his task if he is to transfuse his blood into the veins of boys. Above
all, he must be a real man and not a manikin, and he must enjoy his
boys--love them, without being quite conscious of the love, or at least
without harping on it.

"The ideal schoolmaster needs five special and spiritual senses: common
sense, the sense of justice, the sense of honor, the sense of youth and
the sense of humor. These five gifts are very useful in every worthy
occupation.

"Gentlemen, none of us schoolmasters has reached the ideal; however, we
reach after it. Nevertheless, we neither need, nor desire your pity. We
do not feel unimportant. Personally, I would not exchange jobs with the
richest or greatest among you. I like my own job. It really looks to me,
bigger and finer. I should rather have the right mold and put the right
stamp on a wholesome boy than to do any other thing. It counts more for
the world and is more nearly immortal. It is worth any man's life."

Another factor in the formation and development of college traditions
and college spirit is the influence of the men who shape the athletic
policy.

When one of the graduates returns to direct the athletic affairs of his
Alma Mater, or those of another college he naturally becomes a potent
influence in the life of the students. Great is his opportunity for
character making. The men all look up to him and the spirit of hero
worship is present everywhere. Such athletic directors are chosen
largely because of their success on the athletic field. And when one can
combine athletic directorship with scholastic knowledge, the combination
is doubly effective.

By association they know the real spirit and patriotic sentiment of the
college men. They appreciate the fact that success in athletics, like
success in life, depends not merely upon training the head, but upon
training the will. Huxley said that:

"The true object of all education, was to develop ability to do the
thing that ought to be done when it ought to be done, whether one felt
like doing it or not."

Prompt obedience to rules and regulations develop character and the
athletic director becomes, therefore, one of the most important of
college instructors. A boy may be a welcher in his classroom work, but
when he gets out on the athletic field and meets the eye of a man who is
bound to get the most out of every player for the sake of his own
reputation, as well as the reputation of the school or college, that boy
finds himself in a new school. It is the school of discipline that
resembles more nearly than anything else the competitive struggle in the
business life of the outside world that he is soon to enter.

Another exceedingly valuable trait that athletic life develops in a
student is the spirit of honorable victory. The player is taught to win,
to be sure, but he is also taught that victory must never overshadow
honor.

Who misses or who wins the prize,
Go lose, or conquer, as you can
But if you fail, or if you rise,
Be each, Pray God, a gentleman.

This tradition and atmosphere cannot be retained in institutions merely
by the efforts of the students. The co-operation of the alumni is
necessary. On this account it is unfortunate that the point of view of
too many college men regarding their Alma Mater is limited to the years
of their own school and college days.

Our universities especially are beginning to learn that this has been a
great mistake and that the continued interest and loyalty of the alumni
are absolutely essential to insure progress and maintain the high
standard of an institution. There is, in other words, a real sense in
which the college belongs to the alumni. The faculty is engaged for a
specific purpose and their great work is made much more profitable by
the hearty co-operation of the old and young graduates who keep in close
touch with the happenings and the spirit of their different alma maters.

One of the best assets in any seat of learning is the constructive
criticism of the alumni. Broad minded faculties invite intelligent
criticism from the graduate body, and they usually get it.

But after all, the real power of enthusiasm behind college traditions
abides in the student body itself. How is this college patriotism
aroused? What are its manifestations? What is it that awakens the desire
for victory with honor, which is the real background of the great
football demonstration that tens of thousands of Americans witness each
year?

As I think back in this connection upon my own college experiences, the
athletic mass meeting stands out in my memory and records the moment
when all that was best and strongest in my fighting spirit and manhood
came out to meet the demand of the athletic leaders. It was at that time
that the thrill and power of college spirit took mighty possession of
me. It might have been the inspiring words of an old college leader
addressing us, or perhaps it was the story of some incident that brought
out the deep significance of the coming game. Indeed I have often
thought that the spirit of loyalty and sacrifice aroused in the breast
of the young man in a college mass meeting springs from the same noble
source as the highest patriotism.


MASS MEETING ENTHUSIASM

How well do I recall the mass meeting held by the undergraduates in
Alexander Hall Thursday night before the Yale game in 1898! The team and
substitutes sat in the front row of seats. There was singing and
cheering that aroused every man in the room to the highest pitch of
enthusiasm. All eyes were focused on the cheer leader as he rehearsed
the cheers and songs for the game, and as the speakers entered behind
him on the platform, they received a royal welcome. There was Johnny
Poe, Alex Moffat, some of the professors, including Jack Hibben, since
president of Princeton, in addition to the coaches.

I can almost hear again their words, as they addressed the gathering.

"Fellows, we are here to-night to get ready to defeat Yale on Saturday.
You men all know how hard the coaches have worked this year to get the
team ready for the last big game. Captain Hillebrand and his men know
that the college is with the team to a man. We are not here to-night to
make college spirit, but we are here to demonstrate it.

"Those of you who saw last year's team go down to defeat at New Haven,
realize that the Princeton team this year has got to square that defeat.
Garry Cochran and the other men who graduated are not here to play. The
burden rests on the shoulders of the men in front of me, this year's
team, and we know what they're going to do.

"It is going to take the hardest kind of work to beat Yale on our own
grounds. We must play them off their feet the first five minutes. I
wonder if you men who are in Princeton to-day truly realize the great
tradition of this dear college. Thousands and thousands of young men
have walked across the same campus you travel. The Princeton of years
gone by, is your Princeton to-day, so let us ever hold a high regard for
those whose places we now occupy.

"Already from far off points, Princeton men are starting back to see the
Yale game--back to their Alma Mater. They're coming back to see the old
rooms they used to live in, and it is up to us to make their visit a
memorable one. You can do that by beating Yale."


George K. Edwards

Many of you men have perhaps heard of the great love for Princeton shown
in the story of the last days of Horse Edwards, Princeton '89. He will
never return to Princeton again. He used to live in East College, long
since torn down. Some years after he left college, he was told that he
had but a few short months to live. He decided to live them out at
Princeton.

One Friday afternoon in the summer of 1897, Horse Edwards arrived in
Princeton from Colorado. He was very weak from his illness. He could
barely raise his hand to wave to the host of old friends who greeted him
as he drove from the station to East College, where his old room had
been arranged as in his college days for his return.

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