jcollingsworth
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Sunday Morning Coffee: November 06, 1920
jcollingsworth via our good friends at Buckeye Battle Cry
Visit their fantastic blog and read the full article (and so much more) here
Gaylord Stinchcomb, the consensus All-American halfback for the Buckeyes, had just stepped from his dorms at the German House on West 11th. He stood momentarily looking toward the darkening sky as the threat of rain appeared imminent.
It was just a few days following the Presidential elections in which two Ohioans were the top of the two major party tickets – Senator Warren G. Harding and Governor James Cox. Harding won. That was news, of course, but the biggest issue was this was the first election that women were allowed to vote. It was all cause for celebration – so he had been told by his fiancé Anne Jane Summers, of whom he was now journeying over to North High Street and the Bowen House to visit.
On his way a few people, recognizing him, would nod and shout “Great game Pete!” He would nod in return and simply smile.
Gaylord was known among friends, and in the world of sports as ‘Pete’; never had it been a big deal – to be called Pete – it rolled so much better off the lips than Gaylord, or his given middle name of Roscoe. But as a child a neighbor back in Fostoria, Ohio would always call him Pete. She was an elderly widower who was often confused, so he never found a need to correct her. The mistake though picked up quickly with his friends, and then eventually among his siblings, and both Mother and Father, and in good humor, seemingly his name changed to Pete overnight.
At five foot and eight inches ‘Pete’ was not the striking mammoth athlete many had heard he was. What people were mistaking when their active interpretations imagined him to be bordering seven feet, was the descriptions they read of him in local news articles, was of his gifted activities on the football field. Thus ‘Pete’, when first met – in the human form – was just an average guy. But football was his gift, and he was far from an average guy once he stepped onto a football field.
Just the afternoon before, right down the street at Ohio Field, the Buckeyes had beaten the University of Michigan for the second year in a row. The stadium was easily beyond its capacity of 14,000. There were rumors that it bordered more of 16,000. The crowd was eager throughout the game, often distracting the Michigan quarterback John Dunn and his eventual replacement when he suffered a badly sprained ankle, Theodore Banks.
The game was hardly the explosive ‘theater’ that the papers predicted it would be. From the sounding gun there was little to no action, just a turning over the ball on downs to one another, until the half gun rang out. The score would be 0-0.
In the Buckeyes dressing room Coach Wilce lit into the Buckeyes – something so uncommon of him. His demeanor was often mild, academic-like. But ‘Pete’ noticed an intensity in Coach that afternoon, just as he felt a vibe from the enormous crowd, there was a ‘need’ to beat this Michigan team. The desire to ‘no-longer’ be their doormat was a governing reality. The team finally sensed this as well. Something special was being born in this match-up against that team up north.
The third quarter did not start so well. Michigan quickly scored a touchdown after receiving the opening kickoff, marching it seventy-one yards in eight plays. The point after was good. The Wolverines led 7-0.
But ‘Pete’ and the Buckeyes soon turned it around. Quarterback Harry Workman rounded the corner on an end-around and marched the ball for forty-seven yards to the Wolverines eight. It took two plays, but finally, ‘Pete’ plowed it in from outside the six for the score. The point after was good. The score was now tied 7-7.
Michigan’s replacement quarterback, Theodore Banks, had come in after John Dunn limped off the field following a vicious take down from the Buckeyes defensive tackle Dean Trott. Dunn lay, and squirmed for a few minutes before finally jumping up and limping badly to the sidelines. Banks was there to just hand off the ball to halfbacks Edward Usher and Frank Stekettee and fullback Viggo Nelson. That generally worked well – until a slip up in a hand off attempt to Nelson after Stekettee ran for twenty-nine yards to the Buckeyes twenty-seven and a first down. In the hand off attempt it hit Nelson in the hip, bouncing freely backwards, generating more attention than a bucket of gold would have. Dean Trott pounced on the ball as if it were in fact a bucket of gold.
‘Pete’ smiled as two elderly women passed him, nodding and smiling. It was polite he thought that they hadn’t said anything, though clearly they knew who he was – everyone in these parts of Columbus did. He was a star.
‘Pete’ continued making his way now onto North High Street. In that short moment before he approached the Bowen House where he’d be picking his fiancé up as they planned to head to the corner diner for breakfast, but most importantly, at least to ‘Pete’, a cup of coffee, he recalled the moment that won the game for the Buckeyes the day before.
After Trott’s fumble recovery the Buckeye’s offense went right to work. From their own twenty-seven, in three plays they got the ball to the Wolverines thirty-four. It was then when ‘Pete’ showed the crowd why he had been chosen as a consensus All-American. He took the pitch-out from Workman and scampered thirty-four yards, breaking four tackles on the way, for the go ahead TD. The point after would be good. The Buckeyes now led 14-7 – which would be the final.
“What took you so long?” Anne stood on the steps to the entrance of the Bowen House. She smiled as she made her way to the sidewalk. Anne’s glow was delightfully present, as it always was when she saw her future husband.
They embraced as if they hadn’t seen one another for weeks, when in fact it had only been hours. It was now nearing ten in the morning on Sunday, having stayed together until almost eleven in the evening as they and their friends celebrated the victory against Michigan the day before.
The Buckeyes were now 2-15-2 against the Wolverines. They looked forward to improving that record too. Many had even suggested that they put Michigan on their schedule twice within the year so that they could improve the record more rapidly. Of course, that wasn’t happening – but the mere suggestion certainly was cause, perhaps unbeknownst of all participants, to create a rivalry of Biblical proportions.
The post Sunday Morning Coffee: November 06, 1920 appeared first on The Buckeye Battle Cry: Ohio State News and Commentary.
Continue reading...
jcollingsworth via our good friends at Buckeye Battle Cry
Visit their fantastic blog and read the full article (and so much more) here
Gaylord Stinchcomb, the consensus All-American halfback for the Buckeyes, had just stepped from his dorms at the German House on West 11th. He stood momentarily looking toward the darkening sky as the threat of rain appeared imminent.
It was just a few days following the Presidential elections in which two Ohioans were the top of the two major party tickets – Senator Warren G. Harding and Governor James Cox. Harding won. That was news, of course, but the biggest issue was this was the first election that women were allowed to vote. It was all cause for celebration – so he had been told by his fiancé Anne Jane Summers, of whom he was now journeying over to North High Street and the Bowen House to visit.
On his way a few people, recognizing him, would nod and shout “Great game Pete!” He would nod in return and simply smile.
Gaylord was known among friends, and in the world of sports as ‘Pete’; never had it been a big deal – to be called Pete – it rolled so much better off the lips than Gaylord, or his given middle name of Roscoe. But as a child a neighbor back in Fostoria, Ohio would always call him Pete. She was an elderly widower who was often confused, so he never found a need to correct her. The mistake though picked up quickly with his friends, and then eventually among his siblings, and both Mother and Father, and in good humor, seemingly his name changed to Pete overnight.
At five foot and eight inches ‘Pete’ was not the striking mammoth athlete many had heard he was. What people were mistaking when their active interpretations imagined him to be bordering seven feet, was the descriptions they read of him in local news articles, was of his gifted activities on the football field. Thus ‘Pete’, when first met – in the human form – was just an average guy. But football was his gift, and he was far from an average guy once he stepped onto a football field.
Just the afternoon before, right down the street at Ohio Field, the Buckeyes had beaten the University of Michigan for the second year in a row. The stadium was easily beyond its capacity of 14,000. There were rumors that it bordered more of 16,000. The crowd was eager throughout the game, often distracting the Michigan quarterback John Dunn and his eventual replacement when he suffered a badly sprained ankle, Theodore Banks.
The game was hardly the explosive ‘theater’ that the papers predicted it would be. From the sounding gun there was little to no action, just a turning over the ball on downs to one another, until the half gun rang out. The score would be 0-0.
In the Buckeyes dressing room Coach Wilce lit into the Buckeyes – something so uncommon of him. His demeanor was often mild, academic-like. But ‘Pete’ noticed an intensity in Coach that afternoon, just as he felt a vibe from the enormous crowd, there was a ‘need’ to beat this Michigan team. The desire to ‘no-longer’ be their doormat was a governing reality. The team finally sensed this as well. Something special was being born in this match-up against that team up north.
The third quarter did not start so well. Michigan quickly scored a touchdown after receiving the opening kickoff, marching it seventy-one yards in eight plays. The point after was good. The Wolverines led 7-0.
But ‘Pete’ and the Buckeyes soon turned it around. Quarterback Harry Workman rounded the corner on an end-around and marched the ball for forty-seven yards to the Wolverines eight. It took two plays, but finally, ‘Pete’ plowed it in from outside the six for the score. The point after was good. The score was now tied 7-7.
Michigan’s replacement quarterback, Theodore Banks, had come in after John Dunn limped off the field following a vicious take down from the Buckeyes defensive tackle Dean Trott. Dunn lay, and squirmed for a few minutes before finally jumping up and limping badly to the sidelines. Banks was there to just hand off the ball to halfbacks Edward Usher and Frank Stekettee and fullback Viggo Nelson. That generally worked well – until a slip up in a hand off attempt to Nelson after Stekettee ran for twenty-nine yards to the Buckeyes twenty-seven and a first down. In the hand off attempt it hit Nelson in the hip, bouncing freely backwards, generating more attention than a bucket of gold would have. Dean Trott pounced on the ball as if it were in fact a bucket of gold.
‘Pete’ smiled as two elderly women passed him, nodding and smiling. It was polite he thought that they hadn’t said anything, though clearly they knew who he was – everyone in these parts of Columbus did. He was a star.
‘Pete’ continued making his way now onto North High Street. In that short moment before he approached the Bowen House where he’d be picking his fiancé up as they planned to head to the corner diner for breakfast, but most importantly, at least to ‘Pete’, a cup of coffee, he recalled the moment that won the game for the Buckeyes the day before.
After Trott’s fumble recovery the Buckeye’s offense went right to work. From their own twenty-seven, in three plays they got the ball to the Wolverines thirty-four. It was then when ‘Pete’ showed the crowd why he had been chosen as a consensus All-American. He took the pitch-out from Workman and scampered thirty-four yards, breaking four tackles on the way, for the go ahead TD. The point after would be good. The Buckeyes now led 14-7 – which would be the final.
“What took you so long?” Anne stood on the steps to the entrance of the Bowen House. She smiled as she made her way to the sidewalk. Anne’s glow was delightfully present, as it always was when she saw her future husband.
They embraced as if they hadn’t seen one another for weeks, when in fact it had only been hours. It was now nearing ten in the morning on Sunday, having stayed together until almost eleven in the evening as they and their friends celebrated the victory against Michigan the day before.
The Buckeyes were now 2-15-2 against the Wolverines. They looked forward to improving that record too. Many had even suggested that they put Michigan on their schedule twice within the year so that they could improve the record more rapidly. Of course, that wasn’t happening – but the mere suggestion certainly was cause, perhaps unbeknownst of all participants, to create a rivalry of Biblical proportions.
The post Sunday Morning Coffee: November 06, 1920 appeared first on The Buckeye Battle Cry: Ohio State News and Commentary.
Continue reading...