Evening Star Newspaper, September 29, 1929, Page 103

Pt ooy oo e o g P A 'l HE QUNDAY STAR, W\SIlIN(.T(’)\I D (' Qbml‘MBFR Z‘) 1929. On/y the P/zyszm//y Fit Can Pldy Foor Ball Knute Rockne, gridiron mentor of Notre Dame. He says: “There is always an annual cry against foot ball—often made by those who know the least about the game.” BY JIMES M. NEVILLE HEN the University of Illinois was building its new stadium a few year ago, Zuppke, the coach, overheard a spectator remark about the intensity of scrim- mage, which was not a bit harder than usual. “Gosh, that's a rough sport,” shuddered the spectator, hurrying away after watching a xugged set of backs crash through the scrub defense. “None of that for me!"” One of the steel workers, laboring on the steel structure of the stadium, scampered down from his airy perch and stood on the sidelines watching practice. He walked over to Zuppke and inquired: “Say, is there any chance of my getting in this game? I've heard a lot about this sport, how it was such a man-killer and all that bunk. Say, I'd like to play it. I never had a chance when I was a kid—I know I'd have loved it. How about letting me get out there and see if I can't stop those guys with the ball?” In the contrasting viewpoints of the shiver- ing spectator, who turned out to be a book- keeper, who spent all his time in an office, and the hardy steel worker, whose occupation not only required brute strength, but a cool head, courage and alertness, it can be perceived that the roughness of foot ball is all comparative. ‘The game is not too strenuous for boys who are mentally and physically equipped for it, who possess good strong bodies and alert minds, the heritage of sturdy forbears. 6WET at this time every Autumn,” said Knute Rockne, coach of Notre Dame, “we read articles about what a terrible thing foot ball is, how it is a great, brutal monster which breaks the bones of boys, cripples young men, who are sacrificed for their school and their coach. But just as advice on how to bring up babies is often given by bachelors or old maids, so, too, are protests against the ‘brutality’ of foot ball often made by people who never played the game.” In the second half of a Michigan-Minnesota game a few seasons back Harold Hanson and Louis Gilbert crashed head on. Both dropped, stunned and bleeding. After an instant Hanson sat up and grinned over at his opponent. “Rough game, eh, Looie?” “Sure . is, Harry,” said the Michigan back, “but it's a whale of a lot of fun!” Charley Buell, one of Harvard's finest quarter- backs, caught a kick in a Yale game and started to run with the ball. Buell was a very light player, famous for his generalship. He rarely ran the ball. But this day, seeing his chance to pull the unexpected, he grabbed the pigskin and darted in and out of the scattered Yale High-Pressure Demands of Open Game Played Today, Point Out Zuppke and Rockne, Call for Youth Possessing Healthy Bodies and Alert Minds—No Sport for Weaklings. “Red” Cagle, captain of the Army eleven and 1928 all-American halfback. He typifies modern foot ball, with his speed, ball-carrying ability and accurate forward passes. men. He raced 50 yards before some one caught mm from behind. He was thrown, and thrown rd. “Are you hurt?” inquired an official. “No,” replied Buell, still staggering from the hard tackle, but straightening up and noting the distance to the Yale goal posts, “just sore because I didn’t get over the goal line.” The rules of foot ball have been modified, but they have not lessened the demands on grit, endurance and courage. From everything heard and said about the game of two decades ago, the changes in the sport have been along the right line, for the earlier coaches and players were driven to the limit of their endurance. A common error in the old days was the belief that foot ball was merely the survival of the toughest. The early season practice consisted of a series of severe bodily tests whi¢h were sup- posed to eliminate the weaker candidates and strengthen the more rugged. The coaches ac- complished their first purpose very thoroughly —a week or two of practice was enough to drive all the light men to the sidelines or infirmary, along with a large percentage of the heavy fellows. The lingering tradition that foot ball is a brutal game can be traced back to the days when several newspapers were engaged in a crusade against the sport following the bloddy season of 1905. That year 18 players were killed and 150 were seriously injured. The press referred to the game as “murderous, brutal and dangerous.” So strong was the wave of popular opinion against the sport that some Western States passed laws making it & penal offense to play foot ball. At that time foot ball was a dull, boring affair —a cross between a battle-royal and a cattle stampede, just a drab mass of 22 players eternally shoving and pushing each other up and down the field. Play after play was hurled at some defensive lineman until he forced them back or was carried to the sidelines. The thrill of watching a fleet-footed halfback darting through a broken field was unthought of. End running was an unknown art. There was common talk of foul play in the heat of scrimmage. With the increasing number of injuries, the arguments for abolishing the game were becoming very strong. Columbia abandoned the sport and so did Union and Northwestern. Stanford took up English rugby. Then President Roosevelt called the repre- Bob Zuppke, veteran coach of the University of Illinois eleven, who says that foot ball “is a masculine game, and must be judged from that standpoins™ sentatives of Yale, Harvard and Princeton to the White House in October, 1905, and saved the sport by demanding that the rules be changed —that all “brutality and foul play should re« ceive the same summary punishment given to a man who cheats at cards.” ¢6JIO0OT BALL,” said President Roosevelt, “is a good game for young men and boys to play, but unless the rules are changed—for it is becoming too dangerous—the game will have to be abolish Since then, with the innovation of the open game and the forward pass, foot ball has be- come increasingly popular. But the old idea that the game is too rough still lingers. Yet only one man on the great 1925 team at Prince- ton was injured. Charlie Weeks, a substitute, slipped and fell during practice and sprained his ankle! There is the story told about the player who limped into his fraternity house. His brothers greeted him like a hero. “How did it happen?” they chorused. “Oh, I got so excited that I fell off the bench and hurt my thigh,” explained the burly pigskin chaser. “Gosh,” said a brother. “That game’s getting too rough! Think I'll stick to golf. I heard of another fellow over at Princeton who was playing foot ball and got a nose-bleed.” Such an attitude toward the game is fostered by the fact that many of the injuries in foot ball are merely surface bumps that are played up as serious accidents. But it is not as easy as that. Boys still receive broken noses, collap- bones, twisted knees and loose teeth in scrim- mages which are held in the rain and sleet and snow. Players still slip and slide in the mud and go through many disagreeable things for their dear old alma mater. While every year there seems to be less casualties,-games are still played in which injured men come streaming off the field. “Foot ball is a masculine game,” said Zuppke of Illinois, “and must be judged from that point of view. It is no game for weaklings and no game for mere brutes, although there are still many people who think it is a brutal game. But I say brutes cannot play it, for it develops self-control and requires courage, ¢¢PUT 22 red-blooded youths on a foot ball field on a crisp Autumn day and watch the fur fly. Ever since primitive man emerged from the Stone Age he has been fired with the competitive spirit to excel in physical combat. You see this virile drama on the gridiron. Youth is reckless, is high-hearted, and foot ball gives youth complete expression. “The toughest player I ever had was Joe Sternaman. He weighed all of 136 pounds, Continued on Sirth Page