Bannard and as Biffy Lea remarked after the game,
"when Arthur kicked the ball, it seemed to stay up in the air about
twenty minutes."

Some people have said that I turned a somersault and landed on my ear,
and collapsed. Anyhow, it all came our way at the end, the ball sailed
over the cross bar. The score then was 11 to 10, and the Princeton stand
let out a roar of triumph that could be heard way down in New Jersey.

There were but thirty-six seconds left for play. Yale made a splendid
supreme effort to score further. But it was futile.

Crowds had left the field before Poe made his great goal kick. They had
accepted a Yale victory as inevitable. Some say that bets were paid on
the strength of this conviction. The Yale _News_, which went to press
five minutes before the game ended, got out an edition stating that Yale
had won. They had to change that story.

During the seconds preceding Poe's kick for a goal I had a queer
obsession. It was a serious matter to me then. I can recall it now with
amusement. "Big" was a prefix not of my own selection. I had never
appreciated its justification, however, until that moment.

Horace Bannard was playing center. I had my left hand clasped under the
elastic in his trouser leg, ready to form a barrier against the Yale
forwards. Brown, Hale and McBride tried to break through to block the
kick. I thought of a million things but most of all I was afraid of a
blocked kick. To be frank, I was afraid I would block it--that Poe
couldn't clear me, that he would kick the ball into me.

[Illustration: AL SHARPE'S GOAL]

I crouched as low as I could, and the more I worried the larger I seemed
to be and I feared greatly for what might occur behind me. It seemed as
if I were swelling up. But finally, as I realized that the ball had gone
over me and was on its way to the goal, I breathed a sigh of relief and
said,

"Thank God, it cleared!"

How eager we were to get that ball, the hard-earned prize, which now
rests in the Princeton gymnasium, a companion ball to the one of the
1898 victory. Yes, it had all been accomplished, and we were happy. New
Haven looked different to us. It was many years since Princeton had sent
Yale down to defeat on Yale Field.

Victory made us forget the sadness of former defeats. It was a joyous
crowd that rode back to the private cars. Varsity players and
substitutes shared alike in the joy, which was unrestrained. We soon had
our clothes changed, and wer