Jim spent his last hours in New Haven, and later in a humble home on the hillside in Torrington, Conn., surrounded by loving friends, and the individual pictures of that strong Gordon Brown team hanging on the wall above him, a loving coterie of friends said good-bye. Many a boy now out of college realizes that he owes a great deal to the brotherly spirit of Jim Hogan.
[Ill.u.s.tration: McCLUNG, REFEREE SHEVLIN HOGAN]
Thomas J. Shevlin
There is a college tradition which embodies the thought that a man can never do as much for the university as the university has done for him.
But in that great athletic victory of 1915, when Yale defeated Princeton at New Haven, I believe Tom Shevlin came nearer upsetting that tradition than any one I know of. He contributed as much as any human being possibly could to the university that brought him forth.
Tom Shevlin"s undergraduate life at New Haven was not all strewn with roses, but he was glad always to go back when requested and put his shoulder to the wheel. The request came usually at a time when Yale"s football was in the slough of despond. He was known as Yale"s emergency coach.
Tom Shevlin had nerve. He must have been full of it to tackle the great job which was put before him in the fall of 1915. Willingly did he respond and great was the reward.
When I saw him in New York, on his way to New Haven, I told him what a great honor I thought it was for Yale to single him out from all her coaches at this critical time to come back and try to put the Yale team in shape. It did not seem either to enthuse or worry him very much. He said:
"I just got a telegram from Mike Sweeney to wait and see him in New York before going to New Haven. I suppose he wants to advise me not to go and tackle the job, but I"m going just the same. Yale can"t be much worse off for my going than she is to-day."
The result of Shevlin"s coaching is well known to all, and I shall always remember him after the game with that contented happy look upon his face as I congratulated him while he stood on a bench in front of the Yale stand, watching the Yale undergraduates carry their victorious team off the field. Walter Camp stood in the distance and Shevlin yelled to him:
"Well, how about it, Walter?"
This victory will go down in Yale"s football history as an almost miraculous event. Here was a team beaten many times by small colleges, humiliated and frowned upon not only by Yale, but by the entire college world. They presented themselves in the Yale bowl ready to make their last stand.
As for Princeton it seemed only a question as to how large her score would be. Men had gone to cheer for Princeton who for many years had looked forward to a decisive victory over Yale. The game was already bottled up before it started; but when Yale"s future football history is written, when captain and coaches talk to the team before the game next year, when ma.s.s meetings are called to arouse college spirit, at banquets where victorious teams are the heroes of the occasion, some one will stand forth and tell the story of the great fighting spirit that Captain Wilson and his gallant team exhibited in the Yale bowl that November day.
Although Tom Shevlin, the man that made it possible, is now dead, his memory at Yale is sacred and will live long. Many will recall his wonderful playing, his power of leadership, his Yale captaincy, his devotion to Yale at a time when he was most needed. If, in the last game against Harvard, the team that fought so wonderfully well against Princeton could not do the impossible and defeat the great Haughton machine, it was not Shevlin"s fault. It simply could not be done. It lessens in not the slightest degree the tribute that we pay to Tom Shevlin.
Francis H. Burr
Ham Fish was a great Harvard player in his day. When his playing days were over Walter Camp paid him the high tribute of placing him on the All Time, All-American team at tackle. Fish played at Harvard in 1907 and 1908, and was captain of the team in 1909. I know of no Harvard man who is in a better position to pay a tribute to Francis Burr, whose spirit still lives at Cambridge, than Ham Fish. They were team mates, and when in 1908 Burr remained on the side lines on account of injuries, Ham Fish was the acting Harvard captain. Fish tells us the following regarding Burr:
"Francis Burr was of gigantic frame, standing six feet three and agile as a young mountain lion. He weighed 200 pounds. The incoming cla.s.s of 1905 was signalized by having this man who came from Andover. He stood out above his fellows, not only in athletic prowess but in all around manly qualities, both mental and moral. Burr had no trouble in making a place on the Varsity team at Guard. He was a punter of exceeding worth.
In the year of 1908 he was captain of the Harvard team and wrought the most inestimable service to Harvard athletics by securing Percy Haughton as Head Coach. Hooks Burr was primarily responsible for Haughton and the abundance of subsequent victories. Just when Burr"s abilities as player and captain were most needed he dislocated his collar bone in practice.
I shall never forget the night before the Yale game how Burr, who had partially recovered, and was very anxious to play, reluctantly and unselfishly yielded to the coaches who insisted that he should not incur the risk of a more serious break. Harvard won that day, the first time in seven years and a large share of the credit should go to the injured leader. We were all happy over the result but none of us were as happy as he.
"Stricken with pneumonia while attending the Harvard Law School in 1910 he died, leaving a legacy full of encouragement and inspiration to all Harvard men. He exemplified in his life the Golden Rule,--"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Of him it can be truly said, his life was gentle as a whole, and the elements so mixed in him that "nature might stand up and say to all the world,--"He was a man."""
Neil Snow
The University of Michigan never graduated a man who was more universally loved than Neil Snow. What he did and the way he did it has become a tradition at Michigan. He was idolized by every one who knew him. As a player and captain he set a wonderful example for his men to pattern after. He was a powerful player; possessing such determination and fort.i.tude that he would go through a stone wall if he had to. He was their great all-around athlete; good in football, baseball and track. He had the unique record of winning his Michigan M twelve times during his college course at Ann Arbor.
He played his last game of football at Pasadena, California. Neil was very fond of exercise. He believed in exercise, and when word was sent out that Neil Snow had gone, it was found that he had just finished playing in a game of racquets in Detroit, and before the flush and zest were entirely gone, the last struggle and partic.i.p.ation in athletic contests for Neil Snow were over.
It was my experience to have been at Ann Arbor in 1900, when Biffy Lee coached the Michigan team. It was at this time that I met Neil Snow, who was captain of the team, and when I grew to know him, I soon realized how his great, quiet, modest, though wonderful personality, made everybody idolize him. Modesty was his most noticeable characteristic.
He was always the last to talk of his own athletic achievements. He believed in action, more than in words. After his playing days were over he made a great name for himself as an official in the big games. The larger colleges in the East had come to realize with what great efficiency Neil Snow acted as an official and his services were eagerly sought.
Neil Snow loved athletics. He often referred to his college experiences.
His example was one held up as ideal among the men who knew him.
When Billy Bannard died Johnny Poe wrote to Mrs. Bannard a letter, a portion of which follows:
I greatly enjoy thinking of those glorious days in the fall of "95, "96 and "97, when I was coaching at Princeton and saw so much of Billy, and if I live to a ripe old age I do not think I shall forget how he and Ad Kelly came on in the Yale game of "95, and with the score of 16-0 against us started in by steadily rushing the ball up to and over the Yale goal, and after the kick-off, once more started on the march for another touchdown.
It was a superb exhibition of nerve in the face of almost certain defeat and showed a spirit that would not be downed, and I have often thought of this game in different far-off parts of the world.
While Yale finally won 20-10 still Billy showed the same spirit that Farragut showed when told that the river was filled with torpedoes and that it would be suicidal to proceed. He replied, "d.a.m.n the torpedoes, full steam ahead!"
I love to think of Billy"s famous fifty yard run for a touchdown through the Harvard team in "96 at Cambridge, when the score had been a tie, and how he with Ad Kelly and Johnny Baird went through the Yale team in that "96 game and ran the score up to 24, representing five touchdowns. Never before had a Yale team been driven like chaff before the wind, as that blue team was driven.
Billy Bannard and Ad Kelly"s names were always coupled in their playing days at Princeton. These two halfbacks were great team mates. When Bill Bannard died Ad Kelly lost one of his best friends.
In Ad Kelly"s recollections, we read:
"Whenever I think of my playing days I always recall the Harvard-Princeton game of 1896, and with it comes a tribute to one of us who has pa.s.sed to the great beyond; one with whom I played side by side for three years, Bill Bannard. I always thought that in this particular game he never received the credit due him. In my opinion his run on that memorable day was the best I have ever seen. His running and dodging and his excellent judgment had no superior in the football annals of our day.
"In speaking of great individual plays that have won close games, his name should go down with Charlie Daly, Clint Wyckoff, Arthur Poe, Snake Ames and Dudley Dean, for with Reiter"s splendid interference in putting out the Harvard left end, Billy Bannard"s touchdown gave Princeton the confidence to carry her to victory that day and to the ultimate championship two weeks later."
Harry Hooper
When Henry Hooper, one of Dartmouth"s greatest players, was taken away, every man who knew Hooper felt it a great personal loss. Those who had seen him play at Exeter and there formed his acquaintance and later at Dartmouth saw him develop into the mighty center rush of the 1903 Dartmouth team, idolized him.
C. E. Bolser of Dartmouth, who knew him well, says:
"Harry Hooper was a great center on a great team. The success of this eleven was due to its good fellowship and team work. The central figure was the idol of his fellow players. Such was Hooper. Shortly after the football season that year he was operated upon for appendicitis and it soon became evident that he could not recover. He was told of his plight.
"He bravely faced the inevitable and expressed the wish that if he really had to go he might have with him at the last his comrades of the football field. These team mates rallied at his request. They surrounded him; they talked the old days over, and supported by those with whom he had fought for the glory of his college this real hero pa.s.sed into the Great Beyond, and deep down in the traditions of Dartmouth and Exeter the name of Harry Hooper is indelibly written."
The game of football is growing old. The ranks of its heroes are being slowly but surely thinned. The players are retiring from the game of life; some old and some young. The list might go on indefinitely. There are many names that deserve mention. But this cannot be. The list of thoroughbreds is a long one. Yours must be a silent tribute.
Doctor Andrew J. McCosh, Ned Peace, Gus Holly, Dudley Riggs, Harry Brown, Symmes, Bill Black, Pringle Jones, Jerry McCauley, Jim Rhodes, Bill Swartz, Frank Peters, George Stillman, H. Schoellkopf, Wilson of the Navy and Byrne of the Army, Eddie Ward, Albert Rosengarten, McClung, Dudley and Matthews.
Richard Harding Davis and Matthew McClung were two Lehigh men whose position in the football world was most prominent. The esteem in which they are held by their Alma Mater is enduring. I had talked with d.i.c.k Davis when this book was in its infancy. He was very much interested and asked that I write him a letter outlining what I would like to have him send me. Just before he died I received this letter from him. I regret he did not live to tell the story he had in mind.
[Ill.u.s.tration: (Handwritten Letter)
RICHARD HARDING DAVIS MOUNT KISCO NEW YORK
April 2nd
My Dear Edwards,
Yes, indeed. As soon as I finish something I am at work on, I"ll "think back", and write you some memoirs.
With all good wishes