Football Days Part 37

In 1900 Brown played the University of Chicago, at Chicago. During the second half, Bates, the Brown captain, was injured and was taken from the game, and Sheehan, a big tackle, was made temporary captain. At that time the score was 6 to 6. Sheehan called the team together and addressed them in this manner:

"Look here, boys, we've got thirteen minutes to play. Get in and play like h.e.l.l. Every one of you make a touchdown. We can beat 'em with ease."

For many years the last statement was one of Brown's battle-cries.

Brown, by the way, won that game by a score of 12 to 6.

A former Brown man says that in a Harvard game some few years ago, Brown had been steadily plowing through the Crimson's left guard. Goldberg, of the Brown team, had been opening up big holes and Jake High, Brown's fullback, had been going through for eight and ten yards at a time.

Goldberg, who was a big, stout fellow, not only was taking care of the Harvard guard, but was going through and making an endeavor to clean up the secondary defense. High, occasionally, when he had the ball, instead of looking where he was going, would run blindly into Goldberg and the play would stop dead. Finally, after one of these experiences, Jake cried out:

[Ill.u.s.tration: AINSWORTH, YALE'S TERROR IN AN UPHILL GAME]

"Goldberg, if you would only keep out of my way, I would make the All-American."

In the same game, High, on a line plunge, got through, dodged the secondary defense and was finally brought down by Harvard's backfield man, O'Flaherty. Jake always ran with his mouth wide open, and O'Flaherty, who made a high tackle, was unfortunate enough to stick his finger in High's mouth. He let out a yell as Jake came down on it:

"What are you biting my finger for?" High as quickly responded:

"What are you sticking it in my mouth for?"

Huggins of Brown says: "The year that we beat Pennsylvania so badly out on Andrews Field, Brown had the ball on Penn's 2-yard line. Time was called for some reason, and we noticed that the backfield men were cl.u.s.tered about Crowther, our quarterback. We afterwards learned that all four of the backfield wanted to carry the ball over. Crowther reached down and plucked three blades of gra.s.s and the halfbacks and the fullback each drew one with the understanding that the one drawing the shortest blade could carry the ball. Much to their astonishment, they found that all the pieces of gra.s.s were of the same length. Crowther, who made the All-American that year, shouted:

"You all lose. I'll take it myself," and over the line he went with the ball tucked away under his arm.

"Johnny Poe was behind the door when fear went by," says Garry Cochran.

"Every one knows of his wonderful courage. I remember that in the Harvard '96 game, at Cambridge, near the end of the first half, two of our best men (Ad Kelly and Sport Armstrong) were seriously hurt, which disorganized the team. The men were desperate and near the breaking point. Johnny, with his true Princeton spirit, sent this message to each man on the team:

"'If you won't be beat, you can't be beat.'"

"This message brought about a miracle. It put iron in each man's soul, and never from that moment did Harvard gain a yard, and for four succeeding years--'If you won't be beat, you can't be beat,' was Princeton's battle-cry.

"The good that Johnny did for Princeton teams was never heralded abroad.

His work was noiseless, but always to the point.

"I remember the Indian game in '96. The score in the first half was 6 to 0, in favor of the Indians. I believe they had beaten Harvard and Penn, and tied Yale. There wasn't a word said in the club house when the team came off the field, but each man was digging in his locker for a special pair of shoes, which we had prepared for Yale. Naturally I was very bitter and refused to speak to any one. Then I heard the quiet, confident voice talking to Johnny Baird, who had his locker next to mine. I can't remember all he said, but this is the gist of his conversation:

"'Johnny, you're backing up the center. Why can't you make that line into a fighting unit? Tell 'em their grandfathers licked a hundred better Indians than these fellows are, and it's up to them to show they haven't back-bred.'

"Johnny Baird carried out these orders, and the score, 22 to 6, favoring Princeton, showed the result.

"Once more Johnny Poe's brains lifted Princeton out of a hole. I could mention many cases where Johnny has helped Princetonians, but they are personal and could not be published.

"I can only say, that when I lost Johnny Poe, I lost one who can never be replaced, and I feel like a traitor because I was not beside him when he fell."

Rinehart tells how he tried to get even with Sam Boyle.

"I went into professional football, after leaving Lafayette," says Rinehart. "I joined the Greensburg Athletic Club team at Greensburg, Pennsylvania, solely for the purpose of getting back at Sam Boyle, formerly of the University of Penn. He was playing on the Pittsburgh Athletic Club."

When I asked Rinehart why he wanted to get square with Sam Boyle, he said:

"For the reason that Sam, during the Penn-Lafayette contest in '97, had acted in a very unsportsmanlike manner and kept telling his a.s.sociates to kill the Lafayette men and not to forget what Lafayette did to them last year, and a lot more, but possibly it was fortunate for Sam that he did not play in our Greensburg-Pittsburgh Athletic Club game. I was ready to square myself for Lafayette."

A lot of good football stories have been going the rounds, some old, some new, but none of them better than the one Barkie Donald, afterward a member of the Harvard Advisory Football Committee, tells on himself, in a game that Harvard played against the Carlisle Indians in 1896.

It was the first time Harvard and Carlisle had met--Harvard winning--4 to 0--and Donald played tackle against Bemus Pierce.

Donald, none too gentle a player, for he had to fight every day against Bert Waters, then a coach, knew how to use his arms against the Indian, and also when charging, how to do a little execution with his elbows and the open hand, just as the play was coming off. He was playing legitimately under the old game. He roughed it with the big Indian and caught him hard several times, but finally Bemus Pierce had something to say.

"Mr. Donald," he said, quietly, "you have been hitting me and if you do it again, I shall hit you." But Donald did not heed the warning, and in the next play he bowled at Bemus harder than ever for extra measure.

Still the big Indian did not retaliate.

"But I thought I was. .h.i.t by a sledge hammer in the next scrimmage," said Donald after the game. "I remember charging, but that was all. I was down and out, but when I came to I somehow wabbled to my feet and went back against the Indian. I was so dazed I could just see the big fellow moving about and as we sparred off for the next play he said in a matter of fact tone:

"'Mr. Donald, you hit me, one, two, three times, I hit you only one--we're square.'

"And you bet we were square," Donald always adds as he tells the story.

Tacks Hardwick, in common with most football players, thinks the world of Eddie Mahan.

"I have played football and baseball with Eddie," he says, "and am naturally an ardent admirer of his ability, his keen wit and his thorough sportsmans.h.i.+p. One of Eddie's greatest a.s.sets is his temperament. He seldom gets nervous. I have seen him with the bases full, and with three b.a.l.l.s on the batter, turn about in the box with a smile on his face, wave the outfield back, and then groove the ball waist high. Nothing worried him. His ability to avoid tacklers in the broken field had always puzzled me. I had studied the usual methods quite carefully. Change of pace, reversing the field, spinning when tackled, etc.,--most of the tricks I had given thought to, but apparently Eddie relied little on these. He used them all instinctively, but favored none.

"Charlie Brickley had a favorite trick of allowing his arm to be tackled flat against his leg, then, at the very moment his opponent thought he had him, Charlie would wrench up his arm and break the grip.

"Percy Wendell used to bowl over the tackler by running very low. I relied almost exclusively on a straight arm, and 'riding a man.' This means that when a tackler comes with such force that a straight arm is not sufficient to hold him off, and you know he will break through, you put your hand on the top of his head, throw your hips sharply away, and vault as you would over a fence rail, using his head as a support. If he is coming hard, his head has sufficient power to give you quite a boost, and you can 'ride him' a considerable distance--often four or five yards. When his momentum dies, drop off and leave him. Well, Eddie didn't use any of these. Finally I asked him how he figured on getting by the tackler, and what the trick was he used so effectively.

"'It's a cinch,' Eddie replied. 'All I do is poke my foot out at him, give it to him; he goes to grab it, and I take it away!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: TWO TO ONE HE GETS AWAY

Brickley Being Tackled by Wilson and Avery.]

"Leo Leary had been giving the ends a talk on being 'cagey.' 'Cagey'

play is foxy--such as never getting in the same position on every play, moving about, doing the unexpected. If you wish to put your tackle out, play outside him, and draw him out, and then at the last moment hop in close to your own tackle, and then charge your opponent. The reverse is true as well. The unexpected and unusual make up 'cagey' play. Much emphasis had been laid on this, and we were all thoroughly impressed, especially Weatherhead, that year a subst.i.tute.

"Weatherhead's appearance and actions on the field were well adapted to cagey play. Opponents could learn nothing by a.n.a.lyzing his expression.

It seldom varied. His walk had a sort of tip-toe roll to it, much similar to the conventional stage villain, inspecting a room before robbing a safe. In the course of the afternoon game, Weatherhead put his coaching in practice.

"We had a habit--practically every team has--of shouting 'Signal'

whenever a player did not understand the orders of the quarterback. Mal Logan had just snapped out his signals, when Al Weatherhead left his position. Casting furtive glances at the opponents, and tip-toeing along like an Indian scout at his best, the very personification of 'caginess,' Weatherhead approached Logan. Logan, thinking Al had discovered some important weak spot in the defense, leaned forward attentively. Weatherhead rolled up, and carefully s.h.i.+elding his mouth with his hand, asked in a stage whisper 'Signal.'

"A piece of thoughtfulness that expressed the spirit of the man who did it, and also the whole team, took place at the Algonquin Hotel at New London, on the eve of the Harvard-Yale game in 1914. The Algonquin is fundamentally a summer hotel, although it is open all the year. The Harvard team had their headquarters there, and naturally the place was packed with the squad and the numerous followers. Eddie Mahan and I roomed together, and in the room adjoining were Watson and Swigert, two subst.i.tute quarterbacks. Folding doors separated the rooms, and these had been flung open. In the night, it turned cold, and the summer bedding was insufficient. Swigert couldn't sleep, he was so chilled, so he got up, and went in search of blankets. He examined all the closets on that floor, without success; then he explored the floors above and below, and finally went down to the night clerk, and demanded some blankets of him. After considerable delay, he obtained two thin blankets, and thoroughly chilled from his walk in his bare feet, returned to the room. Pa.s.sing our door, he spied Eddie curled up and s.h.i.+vering, about half asleep. I was asleep, but a cold, uncomfortable sleep that is no real rest. He walked in, and placing one blanket over Eddie and one over me, went back to his own bed colder than ever.

"I am a firm believer in rough, rugged, aggressive, bruising football,"

says Hardwick. "The rougher, the better, if, and only if, it is legitimate and clean football. I am glad to say that clean football has been prevalent in my experience. Only on the rarest occasions have I felt any unclean actions have been intentional and premeditated. We have made it a point to play fierce, hard and clean football, and have nearly always received the same treatment.

"In my freshman year, however, I felt that I had been wronged, and foolishly I took it to heart. Since that time I have changed my mind as I have had an opportunity to know the player personally and my own observation and the general high reputation he has for sportsmans.h.i.+p have thoroughly convinced me of my mistake. The particular play in question was in the Yale 1915 game. We started a wide end run, and I was attempting to take out the end. I dived at his knees but aimed too far in front, falling at his feet. He leaped in the air to avoid me, and came down on the small of my back, gouging me quite severely with his heel cleats. I felt that it was unnecessary and foolishly resented it."