Book: Football Days

W >> William H. Edwards >> Football Days




We had one of the best preparatory school teams in that locality, but
owing to our distance from the larger preparatory schools, we were
forced to play Syracuse, Hobart, Hamilton, Rochester, Colgate, and
Cazenovia Seminary--all of whom we defeated. We also played against the
Syracuse Athletic Association, whose team was composed of
professional athletes as well as former college players. Bert Hanson,
who had been a great center at Yale, was one of this team.

[Illustration:

H. Wallis Coxe Cochran Nessler Heffelfinger W. Winter Mills
Sanford Hartwell Morrison Graves Stillman
McCormick McClung L. T. Bliss
C. Bliss Hinkey Barbour T. Dyer

OLD YALE HEROES--LEE McCLUNG'S TEAM]

Recalling the men who played on our St. John's team, I am confident that
if all of them had gone to college, most of them would have made the
Varsity. In fact, some did.

It was decided that I should go to Lawrenceville School, en route to
Princeton. It was on the trip from Trenton to Lawrenceville, in the big
stage coach loaded with boys, I got my first dose of homesickness. The
prospect of new surroundings made me yearn for St. John's.

The "blue hour" of boyhood, however, is a brief one. I was soon engaged
in conversation with a little fellow who was sitting beside me and who
began discussing the ever-popular subject of football. He was very
inquisitive and wanted to know if I had ever played the game, and if I
was going to try for the team.

He told me about the great game Lawrenceville played with the Princeton
Varsity the year before, when Lawrenceville scored six points before
Princeton realized what they were really up against. He fascinated me by
his graphic description. There was a glowing account of the playing of
Garry Cochran, the great captain of the Lawrenceville team, who had just
graduated and gone to Princeton, together with Sport Armstrong, the
giant tackle.

These men were sure to live in Lawrenceville's history if for nothing
else than the part they had played in that notable game, although
Princeton rallied and won 8 to 6. It was not long before I learned that
my newly-made friend was Billy McGibbon, a member of the Lawrenceville
baseball team.

"Just wait until you see Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble play behind
the line," he went on; and from that moment I began to be a part of the
new life, the threshold of which I was crossing. Strangely enough the
memory of getting settled in my new quarters faded with the eventful
moment when the call for candidates came, and I went out with the rest
of the boys to try for the team.

Competition was keen and many candidates offered themselves. I was
placed on the scrub team. One of my first attempts for supremacy was in
the early part of the season when I was placed as right guard of the
scrub against Perry Wentz, an old star player of the school and
absolutely sure of his position. I recall how on several occasions the
first team could not gain as much distance through the second as the men
desired, and Wentz, who later on distinguished himself on the Varsity at
Princeton and still later as a crack player on Pennsylvania, seemed to
have trouble in opening up my position.

Max Rutter, the Lawrenceville captain, with the directness that usually
characterizes such officers, called this fact to Wentz's attention.
Wentz, who probably felt naturally his pride of football fame, became
quite angry at Rutter's remark that he was being outplayed. He took off
his nose-guard, threw it on the ground and left the field.

Rutter moved me over to the first team in Wentz's place. That night
there was a general upset on the team which was settled amicably,
however, and the next day Wentz continued playing in his old place. The
position of guard was given to me on the other side of the line, George
Cadwalader being moved out to the position of tackle. This was the same
Cadwalader who subsequently went to Yale and made a great name for
himself on the gridiron, in spite of the fact that he remained at New
Haven but one year.

It was here at Lawrenceville that this great player made his reputation
as a goal kicker, a fame that was enhanced during his football days at
Yale. Max Rutter, the captain of the Lawrenceville team, went to
Williams and played on the Varsity, eventually becoming captain there
also. Ned Moffat, nephew of Princeton's great Alex Moffat, played end
rush.

About this time I began to realize that Billy McGibbon had given me a
correct line on Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble. These two players
worked wonderfully well together, and were an effective scoring machine
with the assistance of Doc MacNider and Dave Davis.

During these days at Lawrenceville Owen Johnson gathered the material
for those interesting stories in which he used his old schoolmates for
the characters. The thin disguise of Doc Macnooder does not, however,
conceal Doc MacNider from his old schoolboy friends. The same is true of
the slightly changed names of Garry Cochran, Turk Righter, Charlie de
Saulles and Billy Dibble.

Charlie de Saulles, after graduation, went to Yale and continued his
wonderful, spectacular career on the gridiron. We will spend an
afternoon with him on the Yale field later.

Billy Dibble went to Williams and played a marvelous game until he was
injured, early in his freshman year. It was during those days that I met
Garry Cochran, Sport Armstrong and other Princeton coaches for the first
time. They used to come over to assist in coaching our team. Our regular
coaches at Lawrenceville were Walter B. Street, who had been a famous
football star years before at Williams, and William J. George, renowned
in Princeton's football history as a center-rush. I cannot praise the
work of these men too highly. They were thoroughbreds in every sense of
the word.

It was one of the old traditions of Lawrenceville football to have a
game every year with Pennington Seminary. What man is there who
attended either school who does not recall the spirit of those old-time
contests?

The Hill School was another of our football rivals. The trip to
Pottstown, Pa., was an event eagerly looked forward to--so also was the
Hill School's return game at Lawrenceville. The rivalry between the two
schools was keen.

Everything possible was done at the Hill School to make our visit a
pleasant one. The score of 28 to 0, by which Lawrenceville won the game
that year, made it especially pleasant.

As I recall that trip, two men stand out in my memory. One was John
Meigs, the Head Master. The other was Mike Sweeney, the Trainer and
Athletic Director. They were the two central figures of Hill School
traditions.

Interest in football was emphasized at that time by the approaching game
with Andover at Lawrenceville. This was the first time that these two
teams had ever played. Andover was probably more renowned in football
annals than any school Lawrenceville had played up to this time. The
Lawrenceville coaches realized that the game would be a strenuous one.
After a conference, the two coaches decided that it would be wise to see
Andover play at Andover the week before we were to play them.
Accordingly, Mr. George went to Andover, and when he returned, he
gathered the team around him in one of the recitation halls and
described carefully the offense and defense of our coming opponents. He
also demonstrated with checkers what each man did in every play and
placed emphasis on the work of Eddie Holt, who was acting captain of the
Andover team. To represent Holt's giant build he placed one checker on
top of another, saying, as I remember, with great seriousness:

"This topped checker represents Holt. He must be taken care of, and it
will require two Lawrenceville men to stop him on every play. I am
certain of this for Holt was a marvel last Saturday."

During the week we drilled secretly and most earnestly in anticipation
of defeating Andover. The game attracted an unusually large number of
spectators. Lawrenceville made it a gala day for its alumni, and all the
old Andover and Lawrenceville boys who could get there witnessed the
game.

When the Andover team ran out upon the field we were all anxious to see
how big Holt loomed up. He certainly was a giant and towered high above
the other members of his team. Soon the whistle blew, and the trouble
was on. In memory now I can see Billy Dibble circling Andover's end for
twenty-five yards, scoring a touchdown amid tremendous excitement.

This all transpired during the first minute and a half of play. Emerson
once said, "We live by moments," and the first minute and a half of that
game must stand out as one of the eventful periods in the life of
every man who recalls that day of play. No grown-up schoolboy can fail
to appreciate the scene or miss the wave of boyish enthusiasm that
rolled over the field at this unlooked for beginning of a memorable game
between schoolboys.

[Illustration:

Davis MacNider Dibble
de Saulles
Moffat Cadwalader Edwards Walton Wentz Geer Rotter

WE BEAT ANDOVER]

This wonderful start of the Lawrenceville team was a goading spur to its
opponents. Johnnie Barnes, an ex-Lawrenceville boy, now quarterback on
the Andover team, seemed fairly inspired as he urged his team on. Eddie
Holt was called upon time and again. He was making strong advances,
aided by French, Hine and Porter. Together they worked out a touchdown.
But Lawrenceville rallied and for the rest of the game their teamwork
was masterly. Bat Geer, who was later a Princeton Varsity player,
Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble, each scored touchdowns, making
three altogether for their school.

Thus Lawrenceville, with the score 20 to 6, stepped forth into a new era
and entered the larger football world where she was to remain and
increase her heroic accomplishments in after years.

It is needless to say that the night following this victory was a
crowning one in our preparatory football experiences. Bonfires were
lighted, speeches were the order of the hour, and members of the team
were the guests of honor at a banquet in the Upper House. There was no
rowdy "revelry by night" to spoil the memory of the occasion. It was
just one simple, fine and fitting celebration of a wholesome school
victory on the field of football.


LAST YEAR AT LAWRENCEVILLE

It was up to Billy Dibble, the new captain, to bring about another
championship. We were to play Andover a return game there. Captain
Dibble was left with but three of last year's team as a foundation to
build on. Dibble's team made a wonderful record. He was a splendid
example for the team to follow, and his playing, his enthusiasm, and
earnest efforts contributed much toward the winning of the Andover,
Princeton freshmen and Hill School games. There appeared at
Lawrenceville a new coach who assisted Street and George. He was none
other than the famous Princeton halfback, Douglas Ward, whose record as
an honored man in the classroom as well as on the football field was
well known to all of us, and had stood out among college athletes as a
wonderful example. He was very modest. I recall that some one once asked
him how he made the only touchdown against Yale in the '93 game. His
reply was: "Oh, somebody just pushed me over."

Fresh in my memory is the wonderful trip that we boys made to Andover.
We were proud of the fact that the Colonial Express was especially
ordered to stop at Trenton for us, and as we took our seats in the
Pullman car, we realized that our long looked for expedition had really
begun.

We had a great deal of fun on the trip to Boston. Good old George
Cadwalader was the center of most of the jokes. His 215 pounds added to
the discomfort of a pair of pointed patent leather shoes, which were far
too small for him. As soon as he was settled in the train he removed
them and dozed off to sleep. Turk Righter and some of the other fun
makers tied the shoe strings together, and hung them out of the window
where they blew noisily against the window pane.

When we arrived in Jersey City it was a treat for us to see our train
put aboard the ferry boat of the N. Y., N. H. & H. R. R., and, as we
sailed down the bay, up the East River and under the Brooklyn Bridge to
the New Haven docks, it all seemed very big and wonderful.

When the train stopped at New Haven, we were met by the
Yale-Lawrenceville men, who wished us the best of luck; some of them
making the trip with us to Boston. When we arrived in Andover the next
day I had the satisfaction of seeing my brother and cousin, who were at
that time attending Andover Academy.

The hospitality that was accorded the Andover team, while at
Lawrenceville the year before, was repaid in royal fashion. We had ample
time to view the grounds and buildings and grow keen in anticipation
and interest in the afternoon's contest.

When the whistle blew, we were there for business. My personal opponent
was a fellow named Hillebrand, who besides being a football player was
Andover's star pitcher. Later on we became the best of friends and side
partners on the Princeton team, and often spoke of our first meeting
when we played against each other. Hillebrand was one of the greatest
athletes Andover ever turned out. Lawrenceville defeated Andover in one
of the hardest and most exciting of all Prep. School contests, one that
was uncertain from beginning to end.

Billy Dibble played the star game of the day and after eight minutes he
scored a touchdown. Cadwalader booted the ball over the goal and the
score was 6 to 0. The Lawrenceville backfield, made up of Powell, Dave
Davis, Cap Kafer and Dibble, worked wonderfully well. Kafer did some
excellent punting against his remarkable opponent Barker, who seemed to
be as expert as he.

The efficient work of Hillebrand and of Chadwell, the colored end-rush,
stands out pre-eminently. The latter player developed into one of the
best end-rushes that ever played at Williams. Goodwin, Barker and
Greenway contributed much to Andover's good play. Jim Greenway is one of
the famous Greenway boys whose athletic history at Yale is a matter of
record. A few minutes later the Andover crowd were aroused by Goodwin
making the longest run of the game--fifty-five yards, scoring Andover's
first touchdown, and making the score 6 to 6.

There was great speculation as to which team would win the game, but
Billy Dibble, aided by the wonderful interference on the part of Babe
Eddie, who afterward played end on the Yale team, and Emerson, who, had
he gone to college, would have been a wonder, made a touchdown. George
Cadwalader with his sure right foot made the score 12 to 6. Enthusiasm
was at its height. Andover rooters were calling upon their team to tie
the score. A touchdown and goal would mean a tie. The Andover team
seemed to answer their call, for soon Goodwin scored a touchdown, making
the score 12 to 10, and Butterfield, Andover's right halfback, was put
to the test amidst great excitement. The ball went just to the side of
the goal post, and Lawrenceville had won 12 to 10. Great is the thrill
of a victory won on an opponent's field!

That night after dinner, as I was sitting in my brother's room, with
some of his Andover friends, there was a yell from outside, and a loud
knock on the door. In walked a big fellow wearing a blue sweater.
Through his open coat one could observe the big white letter "A." It
proved to be none other than Doc Hillebrand. Without one word of comment
he walked over to where I was sitting and said: "Edwards, what was the
score of the game to-day?" I could not get the idea at all. I said:
"Why, you ought to know." He replied: "12 to 10," and turning on his
heel, left the room. This caused a good deal of amusement, but it was
soon explained that Hillebrand was being initiated into a secret society
and that this was one of the initiation stunts.

It was a wonderfully happy trip back to Lawrenceville. The spirit ran
high. It was then that Turk Righter wrote the well known Lawrenceville
verse which we sang again and again:

Cap kicked, Barker kicked
Cap he got the best of it
They both kicked together
But Cap kicked very hard
Bill ran, Dave ran
Then Andover lost her grip
She also lost her championship
Sis, boom ah!

As we were about two miles outside of Lawrenceville, we saw a mass of
light in the roadway, and when we heard the boys yelling at the top of
their voices, we realized that the school was having a torch-light
procession and coming to welcome us. Great is that recollection! They
took the horses off and dragged the stage back to Lawrenceville and in
and about the campus. It was not long before the whole school was
singing the song of success that Turk Righter had written.

A big celebration followed. We did not break training because we had
still another game to play. When Lawrenceville had beaten the Hill
School 20 to 0, many of us realized that we had played our last game for
Lawrenceville. George Cadwalader was shortly afterward elected Captain
for the coming year. It was at this time that Lawrenceville was
overjoyed to learn that Garry Cochran, a sophomore at Princeton, had
been elected captain of the Princeton varsity. This recalled former
Lawrenceville boys, Pop Warren and Doggie Trenchard, who had played at
Lawrenceville, gone to Princeton and had become varsity captains there.
Snake Ames also prepared at Lawrenceville.

I might incidentally state that we stayed at Lawrenceville until June to
get our diplomas, realizing that there were many able fellows to
continue the successful traditions of Lawrenceville football, George
Mattis, Howard Richards, Jack de Saulles, Cliff Bucknam, John De Witt,
Bummie Ritter, Dana Kafer, John Dana, Charlie Dudley, Heff Herring,
Charlie Raymond, Biglow, the Waller brothers and others.




CHAPTER II

FRESHMAN YEAR


I believe that every man who has had the privilege of going to college
will agree with me that as a freshman lands in a college town, he is a
very happy and interested individual. The newness of things and his
freedom are very attractive. He comes to college fresh from his school
day experiences ready to conform himself to the traditions and customs
of the new school, his college choice.

The world will never again look quite so big to a boy as it did then.
Entering as boys do, in the fall of the year, the uppermost thing in
mind, outside of the classroom, is football. Sometimes it is the
uppermost thought in the classroom. What kind of a Varsity football team
are we going to have? This is the question heard on all sides.

Every bit of available football material is eagerly sought by the
coaches. I recall so well my freshman year at Princeton, how Garry
Cochran, captain of the football team, went about the college with
Johnny Poe, looking over the undergraduates and watching the incoming
trains for football possibilities. If a fellow looked as though he
might have good material to work upon, he was asked to report at the
Varsity field the next day.

All athletic interests are focused on the gridiron. The young
undergraduate who has no likelihood of making the team, fills himself
with facts about the individuals who are trying to win a place. He
starts out to be a loyal rooter, realizing that next to being a player,
the natural thing is to attend practice and cheer the team in their
work; he becomes interested in the individual progress each candidate is
making. In this way, the members of the team know that they have the
support of the college, and this makes them play harder. This builds up
college spirit.

Every college has its own freshman and sophomore traditions; one at
Princeton is, that shortly after college opens there must be a rush
about the cannon, between the freshman and sophomore classes. All those
who have witnessed this sight, know that it is a vital part of Princeton
undergraduate life. On that night in my freshman year, great care was
taken by Cochran that none of the incoming football material engaged in
the rush. No chances were taken of injuring a good football prospect
among either freshmen or sophomores. Eddie Holt, Bert Wheeler, Arthur
Poe, Doc Hillebrand, Bummie Booth and I were in the front ranks of the
class of 1900, stationed back of Witherspoon Hall ready to make the
rush upon the sophomores, who were huddled together guarding the cannon.
Cochran and his coterie of coachers ran out as we were approaching the
cannon and forced us out of the contest. He ordered us to stand on the
outside of the surging crowd. There we were allowed to do a little
"close work," but we were not permitted to get into the heat of the
fray. Cochran knew all of us because we were among those who had been
called to college before the opening to enter preliminary training.
Every football player who has had the experience of being summoned ahead
of time will understand my feeling. I was very happy when I received
from Cochran, during the summer before I entered Princeton, a letter
inviting me to report for football practice two weeks before college
opened. When I arrived at Princeton on the appointed day, I found the
candidates for the team at the training quarters.

At that time freshmen were not barred from varsity teams.

There was a reunion of friends from Lawrenceville and other schools.
There was Doc Hillebrand, against whom I had played in the Andover game
the year before. Eddie Holt loomed up and I recalled him as the big
fellow who played on the Andover team against Lawrenceville two years
before. He had gone from Andover to Harvard and had played on the
Harvard team the year before, and had decided to leave Harvard and
enter Princeton.

There were Lew Palmer, Bummie Booth, Arthur Poe, Bert Wheeler, Eddie
Burke and many others whom I grew to know well later on.

Trainer Jack McMasters was on the job and put us through some very
severe preliminary training. It was warm in New Jersey early in
September, and often in the middle of practice Jack would occasionally
play the hose on us. It did not take us long to learn that varsity
football training was much more strenuous than that of the preparatory
school. The vigorous programme, prepared, especially for me, convinced
me that McMasters and the coaches had decided that my 224 pounds were
too much weight. Jack and I used to meet at the field house four
mornings each week. He would array me in thick woolen things, and top
them off with a couple of sweaters, so that I felt as big as a house. He
would then take me out for an excursion of eight miles across country,
running and walking. Sometimes other candidates kept us company, but
only Jack and I survived.

On these trips, I would lose anywhere from five to six pounds. I got
accustomed to this jaunt and its discomforts after a while, but there
was one thing that always aggravated me. While Jack made me suffer, he
indulged himself. He would stop at a favorite spring of his, kneel down
and take a refreshing drink, right before my very eyes, and then,
although my throat was parched, he would bar me even from wetting my
tongue. He was decidedly unsociable, but from a training standpoint, he
was entirely "on to his job."

As both captain and trainer soon found that I was being overworked, I
had some "let up" of this strenuous system. The extra work in addition
to the regular afternoon practice, made my days pretty severe going and
when night came I was not troubled with insomnia.

It was during this time that Biffy Lea, one of Princeton's greatest
tackles, was slowly but surely making a wonderful tackle out of Doc
Hillebrand. Bert Wheeler was making rapid strides to attain the position
of halfback. They were the only two freshmen who made the team that
year. I was one of those that failed.

We were soon in shape for the first try-out of the season; preliminary
training was over, and the team was ready for its first game. We won the
Rutgers game 44 to 0 and after we defeated the Navy, we went to play
Lafayette at Easton. I had as my opponent in the Lafayette game,
Rinehart. I shall never forget this game. I was playing left guard
alongside of Jarvie Geer, who was a substitute for Bill Church, who had
been injured in practice the week before and could not play. Just before
the first half was over, Lafayette feinted on a kick, and instead of
Bray, that star Lafayette fullback, boosting the ball, Barclay shot
through the line between Geer and myself for thirty yards. There was my
down-fall. Rinehart had taken care of me beautifully, and finally, Net
Poe saved the day by making a beautiful tackle of Barclay, who was fast
approaching the Princeton goal line. There was no score made, but the
fact that Barclay had made the distance through me, made me feel mighty
mean. I recall Cochran during the intermission, when he said: "Holt; you
take Edwards' place at left-guard."

The battle between those giants during the second half was a sight worth
seeing and an incident recalled by all those who witnessed the game.

Neither side scored and it was a hard-fought struggle.

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