Football Days Part 8

Alexander Moffat

Every football enthusiast who saw Alex Moffat play had the highest respect for his ability in the game. Alex Moffat was typically Princetonian. His interest in the game was great, and he was always ready to give as much time as was needed to the coaching of the Princeton teams. His hard, efficient work developed remarkable kickers.

He loved the game and was a cheerful, encouraging and sympathetic coach.

From a man of his day I have learned something about his playing, and together we can read of this great all-round athlete.

Alex Moffat was so small when he was a boy that he was called "Teeny-bits." He was still small in bone and bulk when he entered Princeton. Alex had always been active in sport as a boy. Small as he was, he played a good game of baseball and tennis and he distinguished himself by his kicking in football before he was twelve years of age.

The game was then called a.s.sociation Football, and kicking formed a large part of it. At an early age, he became proficient in kicking with right or left foot. When he was fifteen he created a sensation over at the Old Seminary by kicking the black rubber a.s.sociation football clear over Brown Hall. That was kick enough for a boy of fifteen with an old black, rubber football. If anybody doubts it, let him try to do the trick.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

Wanamaker Belknap Finney Travers Harlan Kennedy Lamar Bird Kimball De Camp Baker Alex Moffat Harris

ALEX MOFFAT AND HIS TEAM]

The Varsity team of Princeton in the fall of '79 was captained by Bland Ballard of the cla.s.s of '80. He had a bunch of giants back of him. There were fifteen on the team in those days, and among them were such men as Devereaux, Brotherlin, Bryan, Irv. Withington, and the mighty McNair.

The scrub team player at that time was pretty nearly any chap that was willing to take his life in his hands by going down to the field and letting those ruthless giants step on his face and generally muss up his physical architecture.

When Alex announced one day that he was going to take a chance on the scrub team, his friends were inclined to say tenderly and regretfully, "Good night, sweet prince." But Alex knew he was there with the kick, whether it came on the left or right, and he made up his mind to have a go with the canvas-backed t.i.tans of the Varsity team. One fond friend watching Alex go out on the field drew a sort of consolation from the observation that "perhaps Alex was so small the Varsity men wouldn't notice him." But Alex soon showed them that he was there. He got in a punt that made Bland Ballard gasp. The big captain looked first at the ball, way up in the air, then looked at Alex and he seemed to say as the Scotsman said when he compared the small hen and the huge egg, "I hae me doots. It canna be."

After that the Varsity men took notice of Alex. When the ball was pa.s.sed back to him next the regulars got through the scrub line so fast that Alex had to try for a run. Bland Ballard caught him up in his arms, and finding him so light and small, spared himself the trouble of throwing him down. Ballard simply sank down on the ground with Alex in his arms and began rolling over and over with him towards the scrub goal. Alex cried "Down! Down!" in a shrill, treble voice that brought an exclamation from the side line. "It's a shame to do it. Bland Ballard is robbing the cradle."

Such was Alex Moffat in the fall of '79, still something of the "Teeny-bits" that he was in early boyhood. In two years Alex's name was on the lips of every gridiron man in the country, and in his senior year, as captain, he performed an exploit in goal kicking that has never been equalled.

In the game with Harvard in the fall of '83, he kicked five goals, four being drop kicks and one from a touchdown. His drop kicks were all of them long and two of them were made with the left foot. Alex grew in stature and in stamina and when he was captain he was regarded as one of the most brilliant fullbacks that the game had ever known. He never was a heavy man, but he was swift and slippery in running, a deadly tackler, and a kicker that had not his equal in his time.

Alex remained prominent in football activity until his death in 1914.

He served in many capacities, as member of committees, as coach, as referee and as umpire. He was a man of happy and sunny nature who made many friends. He loved life and made life joyous for those who were with him. He was idolized at Princeton and his memory is treasured there now.

Wyllys Terry

One of the greatest halfbacks that ever played for Yale is Wyllys Terry, and it is most interesting to hear this player of many years ago tell of some of his experiences. Terry says:

"It has been asked of me who were the great players of my time. I can only say, judging from their work, that they were all great, but if I were compelled to particularize, I should mention the names of Tompkins, Peters, Hull, Beck, Twombly, Richards; in fact, I would have to mention each team year by year. To them I attribute the success of Yale's football in my time, and for many years after that to the unfailing zeal and devotion of Walter Camp.

"There were no trainers, coaches, or rubbers at that time. The period of practice was almost continuous for forty-five minutes. It was the idea in those days that by practice of this kind, staying power and ability would be brought out. The princ.i.p.al points that were impressed upon the players were for the rushers to tackle low and follow their man.

"This was to them practically a golden text. The fact that a man was injured, unless it was a broken bone, or the customary badly sprained ankle, did not relieve a man from playing every day.

"It was the spirit, though possibly a crude one, that only those men were wanted on the team who could go through the battering of the game from start to finish.

"The discipline of the team was rigorous; men were forced to do as they were told. If a man did not think he was in any condition to play he reported to the captain. These reports were very infrequent though, for I know in my own case, the first time I reported, I was so lame I could hardly put one foot before the other, but was told to take a football and run around the track, which was a half mile long and encircled the football field. On my return I was told to get back in my position and play. As a result, there were very few players who reported injuries to the captain.

"This, when you figure the manner in which teams are coached to-day, may appear brutal and a waste of good material, but as a matter of fact, it was not. It made the teams what they were in those days--strong, hard and fast.

"As to actual results under this policy, I can only say that, during my period in college, we never lost a game.

"Training to-day is quite different. I think more men are injured nowadays than in my time under our severe training. I think further that this softer training is carried to an extreme, and that the football player of to-day has too much attention paid to his injury, and what he has to say, and the trainer, doctors and attendants are mostly responsible for having the players incapacitated by their attention.

"The spirit of Yale in my day, a spirit which was inculcated in our minds in playing games, was never to let a member of the opposing team think he could beat you. If you experienced a shock or were injured and it was still possible to get back to your position either in the line or backfield--get there at once. If you felt that your injury was so severe that you could not get back, report to your captain immediately and abide by his decision, which was either to leave the field or go to your position.

"It may be said by some of the players to-day that the punts in those days were more easily caught than those of to-day. There is nothing to a remark like that. The spiral kick was developed in the fall of '82, and I know that both Richards and myself knew the fellow who developed it.

From my experience in the Princeton game I can testify that Alex Moffat was a past master at it.

"One rather amusing thing I remember hearing years ago while standing with an old football player watching a Princeton game. The ball was thrown forward by the quarterback, which was a foul. The halfback, who was playing well out, dashed in and caught the ball on the run, evaded the opposing end, pushed the half back aside and ran half the length of the field, scoring a touchdown. The applause was tremendous. But the Umpire, who had seen the foul, called the ball back. A fair spectator who was standing in front of me, asked my friend why the ball was called back. My friend remarked: 'The Princeton player has just received an encore, that's all.'

"While the game was hard and rough in the early days, yet I consider that the discipline and the training which the men went through were of great a.s.sistance to them, physically, morally and intellectually, in after years. Some of the pleasantest friends.h.i.+ps that I hold to-day were made in connection with my football days, among the graduates of my own and other colleges.

"When fond parents ask the advisability of letting their sons play football, I always tell them of an incident at the Penn-Harvard game at Philadelphia, one year, which I witnessed from the top of a coach. A young girl was asked the question:

"'If you were a mother and had a son, would you allow him to play football?'

"The young lady thought for a moment and then answered in this spirited, if somewhat devious, fas.h.i.+on:

"'If I were a son and had a mother, _you bet I'd play!_'"

Memories of John C. Bell

In my a.s.sociation with football, among the many friends.h.i.+ps I formed, I prize none more highly than that of John C. Bell, whose activity in Pennsylvania football has been kept alive long since his playing day.

Let us go back and talk the game over with him.

"I played football in my prep. school days," he says, "and on the 'Varsity teams of the University of Pennsylvania in the years '82-'83-'84. After graduation, following a sort of nominating ma.s.s meeting of the students, I was elected to the football committee of the University, about 1886, and served as chairman of that committee until 1901; retiring that season when George Woodruff, after a term of ten years, terminated his relations.h.i.+p as coach of our team.

"I also served, as you know, as a representative of the University on the Football Rules Committee from about 1886 until the time I was appointed Attorney General in 1911.

"More pleasant a.s.sociations and relations.h.i.+ps I have never had than those with my fellow-members of that Committee in the late '80's and the '90's, including Camp of Yale; Billy Brooks, Bert Waters, Bob Wrenn and Percy Haughton of Harvard; Paul Das.h.i.+ell of Annapolis; Tracy Harris, Alex Moffat and John Fine of Princeton; and Professor Dennis of Cornell. Later the Committee, as you know, was enlarged by the admission of representatives from the West; and among them were Alonzo Stagg, of Chicago University, and Harry Williams of Minnesota. Finer fellows I have never known; they were one and all Nature's n.o.blemen.

"Some of them, alas! like Alex Moffat, have gone to the Great Beyond.

Representing rival universities, between whose student bodies and some of whose alumni, partisan feeling ran high in the '90's, nothing, however, save good fellows.h.i.+p and good cheer ever existed between Alex and me.

"I am genuinely glad that I played the game with my team-mates; witnessed for many years nearly all the big games of the eastern colleges; mingled season after season with the players and the enthusiastic alumni of the competing universities in attendance at the annual matches; sat and deliberated each recurring year, as I have said, with those fine fellows who made and amended the rules, and in this way helped to develop the game, the manliest of all our sports; and that I have thus breathed, recreated and been invigorated in a football atmosphere every autumn for more than a third of a century. Growing older every year, one still remains young--as young in heart and spirit as when he donned the moleskins, and caught and kicked and carried the ball himself. And all these football experiences make one a happier, stronger and more loyal man.

"I remember in my prep. school days playing upon a team made up largely of high school boys. One game stands out in my recollection. It was against the Freshmen team of the University of Pennsylvania, captained by Johnny Thayer who went down with the _t.i.tanic_.

"Arriving after the game had started, I came out to the side-lines and called to the captain asking whether I was to play. He glowered at me and made no answer. A few minutes later our 'second captain' called to me to come into the game, saying that Smith was only to play until I arrived. Quick as a flash I stepped into the field of play, and almost instantly Thayer kicked the ball over the rush line and it came bounding down right into my arm. Off I went like a flash through the line, past the backs and fullbacks, only to be over-taken within a few yards of the goal. The teams lined up, and thereupon Thayer, with his eagle eye looking us over, called out to our captain 'how many fellows are you playing anyway?' Instantly our captain ordered Smith off the field saying 'you were only to play until Bell came,' and poor Smith left without any audible murmur. This is what might be called one of the accidents of the game.

"Perhaps the most memorable game in which I played was against Harvard in 1884 when Pennsylvania won upon Forbes Field by the score of 4 to 0.

It was our first victory over the Crimson, not to be repeated again until the memorable game of 1894, which triumph was again repeated, after still another decade, in our great victory of 1904. This last victory came after five years of continuing defeats, and I remember that we were all jubilant when we heard the news from Cambridge. I recall that Dr. J. William White, C. S. Packard and I were playing golf at the Country Club and when some one brought out the score to us we dropped our clubs, clasped hands and executed an Indian dance, shouting "Rah!

rah! rah! Pennsylvania!" Why, old staid philosopher, should the leading surgeon of the city, the president of its oldest and largest trust company, and the district attorney of Philadelphia, thus jump for joy and become boys once more?

"Recurring to the game of 1884 I can hear the cheers of the University still ringing in my ears when we returned from Harvard. A few weeks later our team went up to Princeton to see the Harvard-Princeton match and I recall, as though it were yesterday, Alex Moffat kicking five goals against Appleton's team, three of them with the right and two with the left foot. No other player I ever knew or heard of was so ambipedextrous (if I may use the word) as Alex Moffat. I remember walking in from the field with Harvard's captain, and he said to me 'Moffat is a phenomenon.' Truly he was."

CHAPTER VII