k quite so big to a boy as it did then.
Entering as boys do, in the fall of the year, the uppermost thing in
mind, outside of the classroom, is football. Sometimes it is the
uppermost thought in the classroom. What kind of a Varsity football team
are we going to have? This is the question heard on all sides.

Every bit of available football material is eagerly sought by the
coaches. I recall so well my freshman year at Princeton, how Garry
Cochran, captain of the football team, went about the college with
Johnny Poe, looking over the undergraduates and watching the incoming
trains for football possibilities. If a fellow looked as though he
might have good material to work upon, he was asked to report at the
Varsity field the next day.

All athletic interests are focused on the gridiron. The young
undergraduate who has no likelihood of making the team, fills himself
with facts about the individuals who are trying to win a place. He
starts out to be a loyal rooter, realizing that next to being a player,
the natural thing is to attend practice and cheer the team in their
work; he becomes interested in the individual progress each candidate is
making. In this way, the members of the team know that they have the
support of the college, and this makes them play harder. This builds up
college spirit.

Every college has its own freshman and sophomore traditions; one at
Princeton is, that shortly after college opens there must be a rush
about the cannon, between the freshman and sophomore classes. All those
who have witnessed this sight, know that it is a vital part of Princeton
undergraduate life. On that night in my freshman year, great care was
taken by Cochran that none of the incoming football material engaged in
the rush. No chances were taken of injuring a good football prospect
among either freshmen or sophomores. Eddie Holt, Bert Wheeler, Arthur
Poe, Doc Hillebrand, Bummie Booth and I were in the front ranks of the
class of 1900, stationed back of Witherspoon Hall ready to make the
rush upon the sophomores, who were huddled together guarding the cannon.
Cochran and his coterie of coachers ran out as we were approaching the
cannon and forced us out of the contest. He ordered us to stand on the
outside of the surging crowd. There we were allowed to do a little
"close work," but we were not permitted to get into the heat of the
fray. Cochran knew all of us because we were among those who had been
called to college befor