Football Days Part 35

"There was, in my playing days, as now, the usual controversy in reference to the officials of the game," says Wyllys Terry, "and the same controversies arose in those days in regard to the decisions which were given. My sympathies have always been with the officials in the game in all decisions that they have rendered. It is impossible for them to see everything, but when they come to make a decision they are the only ones that are on the spot and simply have to decide on what they see at the moment.

"It is a difficult position. Thousands say you are right, thousands say you are wrong--but my belief has always been that nine times out of ten the official's decision is correct. It was my misfortune to officiate in but one large game; that between Harvard and Princeton in the fall of '87. This was the year that there was a great outcry regarding the rules, particularly in reference to tackling. It was decided that a tackle below the waist was a foul and the penalty was disqualification.

I was appointed Umpire in the Harvard-Princeton game of that year.

Before the game I called the teams together and told them what the representatives of the three colleges had agreed upon. They had authorized me to carry the rules out in strict accordance with their instructions and I proposed to do so. In the early part of the game there was a scrimmage on one side of the field and after the ma.s.s had been cleared away, I heard somebody call for me. On looking around I found that the call came from Holden, Captain of the Harvard team. He called my attention to the fact that he was still being tackled and that the man had both his arms around his knee, with his head resting on it.

He demanded, under the agreed interpretation of the rules, that the tackle be decided a foul, and that the man be disqualified and sent from the field. The question of intent was not allowed me, for I had to decide on the facts as they presented themselves. The result was that Cowan, one of the most powerful, and one of the best linemen that ever stood on a football field, was disqualified. The Captain of the Princeton team remarked at the time, 'I would rather have any three men disqualified than Cowan.' As the game up to that time had been very close, and the Princeton sympathizers were sure of victory, I believe I was the most cordially hated ex-football player that ever existed.

Shortly after this the Harvard men had the Princeton team near their goal line and in possession of the ball. Two linemen used their hands, which on the offense is illegal, and made a hole through which the Harvard halfback pa.s.sed and crossed the line for a touchdown amid tremendous cheers from the Harvard contingent. This touchdown was not allowed by the Umpire. Again I was the most hated football man that lived, so far as Harvard was concerned. The result was I had no friends on either side of the field.

"After the game, in talking it over with Walter Camp, he a.s.sured me that the decisions had been correct, but that he was very glad he had not had to make them. In spite of these decisions, I was asked to umpire in a number of big games the next year: but that one experience had been enough for me. I never appeared again in that or any other official capacity. I have been trying for the last thirty-two years to get back the friends which, before that game, I had in both Princeton and Harvard circles, with only a fair amount of success."

I have always considered it a great privilege to have been a.s.sociated as an official in the game with Pa Corbin. I know of no man that ever worked as earnestly and intelligently to carry out his official duties, and year after year he has kept up his interest in the game, not only as a coach, but as a thoroughly competent official.

As a favorite with all colleges his services were eagerly sought. He recollects the following:--

"The experience that made as much of an impression upon me as any, was the game with Penn-Lafayette which came just after the experience of the year before which developed so much rough play. The man agreed upon for Umpire, did not appear, and after waiting a while the two captains came to me and asked if I would umpire in addition to acting as referee. I accused them of conspiracy to put me entirely out of business, but they insisted and I reluctantly acquiesced. I told both teams that I would be so busy that I would have no time for arguments or even investigation and any move that seemed to me like roughness would be penalized to the full extent of the rules regardless of whom he was or of how many. The result was that it was one of the most decent games and in fact almost gentlemanly that I have ever experienced."

Joe Pendleton has been an official for twenty years. He is an alert, conscientious officer in the game. I have worked many times with Joe and he is a very interesting partner in the official end of the game.

In the fall of 1915 Joe had a very severe illness and his absence from the football field was deeply regretted.

Joe always wore his old Bowdoin sweater and when out upon the field, the big B on the chest of Joe's white sweater almost covered him up.

"A few years ago I had occasion to remove a player from a game for a foul play," says Joe, "and in a second the quarterback was telling me of my mistake. 'Why, you can't put that man out,' he said, and when I questioned him as to where he got such a mistaken idea, his reply was:

"'Why, he is our captain!'

"In another game after the umpire had disqualified a player for kicking an opponent, the offending player appealed to me, basing his claim on the ground that he had not kicked the man until after the whistle had been blown and the play was over. Another man on the same team claimed exemption from a penalty on the ground that he had slugged his opponent while out of bounds. He actually believed that we could not penalize for fouls off the playing field.

"The funniest appeal I ever had made to me was made by a player years ago who asked that time be taken out in order that he might change a perfectly good jersey for one of a different color. It seems he had lost his jersey and had borrowed one from a player on the home team. When I asked him why he wanted to change his jersey he replied:

"'Because my own team are kicking the stuffing out of me and I must get a different colored jersey. At times my team mates take me for an opponent.'

"In a game where it was necessary to caution the players against talking too much to their opponents one particularly curious incident occurred.

"One team, in order to give one of the larger college elevens a stiff practice game, had put in the field two or three ringers. The big college team men were rather suspicious that their opponents were not entirely made up of bona fide students. A big tackle on the larger team made the following remark to a supposed ringer:

"'I'll bet you five to one you cannot name the president of your college.' The answer came back, 'Well, old boy, perhaps I can't, but perhaps I can show you how to play tackle and that's all I'm here for.'"

The Princeton-Yale game of 1915 was one of the most bitterly contested in the history of football. Princeton was a strong favorite, but Yale forced the fighting and had their opponents on the defensive almost from the beginning. Princeton's chances were materially hurt by a number of severe penalties which cost her considerably in excess of one hundred yards. Each of the officials had a hand in the infliction of the penalties, but the Referee, who happened to be Nate Tufts of Brown, had, of course, to enforce them all by marking off the distance given to Yale and putting the ball in the proper place.

In the evening after the game, a number of football officials and others were dining in New York; in the party was a Princeton graduate, who was introduced to Mr. Tufts, the Referee of the game of the afternoon. At the introduction the Princeton man remarked that when he was a boy he had read of Jesse James, the McCoy brothers, and other noted bandits and train robbers, but that he took off his hat to Mr. Tufts as the king of them all.

Okeson, a star player of Lehigh and prominent official, recalls this game:

"In 1908 I umpired in a memorable game which took place at New Haven between Yale and Princeton, which resulted in a victory for Yale, 12-10.

This was before any rule was inserted calling for the Referee to notify the teams to appear on the field at the beginning of the second half. At that time a ten-minute intermission was allowed between the halves. The first half closed with the score 10-0 in favor of Princeton. At the end of about seven minutes Mike Thompson, who was Referee, following the custom that had grown up, although no rule required it, left the field to notify the teams to return. When he came back I asked him if he had found them, for on the old Yale Field it was something of a job to locate the teams once they had pa.s.sed through the gates. Mike said that they were in the Field House on the other side of the baseball field and that he had called in to them. The Princeton players appeared in a minute or two, but no sign of Yale. Finally, getting suspicious, Mike asked Bill Roper, who was head coach at Princeton that year, if the Yale team had been in the Field House. The answer was 'No,' and we suddenly woke up to the fact that although time for the intermission had ended three or four minutes before, the Yale team was not notified, and furthermore, no one knew where they were except that they were somewhere under the stands. There were many gates and to leave by one to search meant running a chance that the Yale team might appear almost immediately through another and then the game be further delayed by the absence of the Referee. This being the case, Mike had no choice but to do as he did, namely, send messengers through all gates. One of these messengers met the Yale team coming along under the stands. The coaches had decided that time must be up, although none of them had kept a record of it, and had started back finally without any notice. Eight minutes over the legal ten had been taken before they appeared on the field and Bill Roper was raging. As Yale won in the second half it was only natural that we officials were greatly censored by Princeton, and Yale did not escape criticism. Yet the whole thing came from the fact that a custom had grown up of depending on the Referee to find and bring the teams back to the field instead of each team either staying on the field, or failing that, taking the responsibility on themselves of getting back in time. Yale simply followed the usual custom and 'Mike'

was misled due to being told that both teams had gone to the Field House by one of those ready volunteers who furnish information whether they know anything about the subject in hand or not."

[Ill.u.s.tration: CRASH OF CONFLICT

When Charge Meets Charge.]

CHAPTER XXI

CRASH OF CONFLICT

The start of a football game is most exciting; not alone for the players, but for the spectators as well. Every one is keyed up in antic.i.p.ation of the contest. The referee's whistle blows; the ball is kicked off--the game has begun.

Opponents now meet face to face on the field of battle. What happens on the gridiron is plainly seen by the spectators, but it is not possible for them to hear the conversations which take place. There is much good natured jos.h.i.+ng between the players, which brings out the humorous as well as the serious side of the contest. In a game, and during the hard days of practice, many remarks are made which, if overheard, would give the spectators an insight into the personal, human side of the sport.

It behooves every team to make the most of the first five minutes of play. Every coach in the country will tell his team to get the charge on their opponents from the start. A good start usually means a good ending.

From the side lines we see the men put their shoulders to their work, charging and pus.h.i.+ng their opponents aside to make a hole in the line, through which the man with the ball may gain his distance; or we may see a man on the defensive, full of grim determination to meet the oncoming charges of his opponent. As we glance at the accompanying picture of a Yale-West Point game, we will observe the earnest effort that is being made in the great game of football--the crash of conflict.

One particularly amusing story is told about a former Lehigh player in a Princeton game several years ago.

"After the match had been in progress twenty minutes or more," says a Princeton man who played, "we began to show a large number of bruises on our faces. This was especially the case with House Janeway, whose opponent, at tackle, was a big husky Lehigh player. Janeway finally became suspicious of the big husky, whose arms often struck him during the scrimmage.

"'What have you got on your arm?' shouted Janeway at his adversary.

"'Never you mind. I'm playing my game,' was the big tackle's retort.

"Janeway insisted that the game be stopped temporarily for an inspection. The Lehigh tackle demurred. Hector Cowan, whose face had suffered, backed up Janeway's demand.

"'Have you anything on your arm?' demanded the referee of the Lehigh player.

"'My sleeve,' was the curt reply.

"'Well, turn up your sleeve then.'

"The big tackle was forced to comply with the official's request, and disclosed a silver bracelet.

"'Either take that off or go out of the game,' was the referee's orders.

"'But I promised a girl friend that I would wear it through the match,'

protested Lehigh's tackle. 'I can't take it off. Don't you understand--it was _wished_ on!'

"'Well! I "wish" it off,' the referee replied. 'This is no society affair.'

"The big tackle objected to this, declaring he would sooner quit the game than be disloyal to the girl.

"'Then you will quit,' was the command of the umpire, and the big tackle left the field, a subst.i.tute taking his place."

Lueder, a Cornell tackle, one of the best in his day, mentions a personal affair that occurred in the Penn game in 1900, between Blondy Wallace and himself.

Blondy's friends when they read this will think he had an off day in his general football courtesy. Lueder states: