It All Began on This Date in 1869.

Today's the 148th anniversary of the first intercollegiate football game on November 6, 1869, so I'm reposting this transcript again. This appeared in a bicentennial anthology of Rutgers stories published in 1966.

This report of that first "foot-ball" game between Rutgers and Princeton was reported in the Targum in 1869, and reprinted in Aloud to Alma Mater, edited by George Lukac (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1966, pages 67-69).

The Birth of Intercollegiate Football

On Saturday, November 6, Princeton sent twenty-five picked men to play our twenty-five a match game of foot-ball. The strangers came up in the ten o’clock train, and brought a good number of backers with them. After dinner, and a stroll around the town, during which stroll billiards received a good deal of attention, the crowd began to assemble at the ball ground, which, for the benefit of the ignorant, we would say, is a lot about a hundred yards wide, extending from College Avenue to Sicard Street. Previous to calling the game, the ground presented an animated picture. Grim looking players were silently stripping, each one surrounded by sympathizing friends, while around each of the captains was a little crowd, intent upon giving advice, and saying as much as possible. The appearance of the Princeton men was very different from that of our own players. They were almost without exception tall and muscular, while the majority of our twenty-five are small and light, but possess the merit of being up to much more than they look.

Very few were the preliminaries, and they were quickly agreed upon. The Princeton captain, for some reason or other, gave up every point to our men without contesting one. The only material points were that Princeton gave up “free kicks,” whereby a player, when he catches the ball in the air, is allowed to kick it without hindrance. On the other hand, our practice of “babying” the ball on the start was discarded, and the ball was mounted, in every instance, by a vigorous “long kick.”

Princeton won the toss, and chose the first mount, rather oddly, since it had been agreed to start the ball against the wind. At three p.m. the game was called. The Princetonians suffered from making a bad “mount” or “buck” as they call it; the effects of which were not remedied before the sides closed, and after a brief struggle, Rutgers drove it home, and won, amid great applause from the crowd. The sides were changed, Rutgers started the ball, and after a somewhat longer fight Princeton made it a tie by a well directed kick, from a gentleman whose name we don’t know, but who did the best kicking on the Princeton side.

To describe the varying fortunes of the match, game by game, would be a waste of labor, for every game was like the one before. There was the same headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking. In every game the cool goal-tenders saved the Rutgers goal half a dozen times; in every game the heavy charger of the Princeton side overthrew everything he came in contact with; and in every game, just when the interest in one of those delightful rushes at the fence was culminating, the persecuted ball would fly for refuge into the next lot, and produce a cessation of hostilities until, after the invariable “foul,” it was put in straight.

Well, at last we won the match, having won the first, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, and tenth games; leaving Princeton the second, fourth, seventh, and eighth. The seventh game would probably have been added to our score but for one of our players, who, in his ardor, forgot which way he was kicking, a mistake for which he fully atoned afterward.

To sum up: Princeton had the most muscle, but didn’t kick very well, and wanted organization. They evidently don’t like to kick the ball on the ground. Our men, on the other hand, though comparatively weak, ran well, and kicked well throughout. But their great point was their organization, for which great praise is due to the Captain, Leggett ’72. The right men were always in the right place.

After the match, the players had an amicable “feed” together, and at eight o’clock our guests went home, in high good spirits, but thirsting to beat us next time, if they can.

Great Film on the Rutgers/Princeton Cannon Wars

How long will it take before Maryland or Penn State establishes a rivalry with us as deep as the one between Rutgers and those pretentious rich assholes in orange?

Knights, Tigers, and Cannons. Oh My! (2012) from Zack Morrison on Vimeo.

"...headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking..." Happy 145th Birthday to College Football

I'm republishing the following for new visitors to Rutgers who wonder about "The Birthplace of College Football" line that's proudly displayed next to the football field at R House. Tomorrow is the 145th anniversary of that first intercollegiate football game played between the men of Rutgers and Princeton in New Brunswick, New Jersey on November 6, 1869, just across the river from the current Stadium on the site of the College Avenue Gym.


The details of the game, played by two teams that still needed to agree on rules at game time, are a little like reading the details of an alien game from a foreign land, but this game was neither soccer nor rugby. It was something new, being invented on the fly by college students, and here's a first-hand report of that first intercollegiate game of "foot-ball" played on American soil, exactly as reported first in Rutgers' daily newspaper, the Targum, in 1869, and as reprinted in a short book published for Rutgers' 200th anniversary in 1966, Aloud to Alma Mater, edited by George Lukac, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press,  pages 67-69.

Enjoy! But remember, at some point there will be a pop quiz on this information for our new Big Ten conference opponents.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Birth of Intercollegiate Football

On Saturday, November 6, Princeton sent twenty-five picked men to play our twenty-five a match game of foot-ball. The strangers came up in the ten o’clock train, and brought a good number of backers with them. After dinner, and a stroll around the town, during which stroll billiards received a good deal of attention, the crowd began to assemble at the ball ground, which, for the benefit of the ignorant, we would say, is a lot about a hundred yards wide, extending from College Avenue to Sicard Street. Previous to calling the game, the ground presented an animated picture. Grim looking players were silently stripping, each one surrounded by sympathizing friends, while around each of the captains was a little crowd, intent upon giving advice, and saying as much as possible. The appearance of the Princeton men was very different from that of our own players. They were almost without exception tall and muscular, while the majority of our twenty-five are small and light, but possess the merit of being up to much more than they look.

Very few were the preliminaries, and they were quickly agreed upon. The Princeton captain, for some reason or other, gave up every point to our men without contesting one. The only material points were that Princeton gave up “free kicks,” whereby a player, when he catches the ball in the air, is allowed to kick it without hindrance. On the other hand, our practice of “babying” the ball on the start was discarded, and the ball was mounted, in every instance, by a vigorous “long kick.”

Princeton won the toss, and chose the first mount, rather oddly, since it had been agreed to start the ball against the wind. At three p.m. the game was called. The Princetonians suffered from making a bad “mount” or “buck” as they call it; the effects of which were not remedied before the sides closed, and after a brief struggle, Rutgers drove it home, and won, amid great applause from the crowd. The sides were changed, Rutgers started the ball, and after a somewhat longer fight Princeton made it a tie by a well directed kick, from a gentleman whose name we don’t know, but who did the best kicking on the Princeton side.

To describe the varying fortunes of the match, game by game, would be a waste of labor, for every game was like the one before. There was the same headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking. In every game the cool goal-tenders saved the Rutgers goal half a dozen times; in every game the heavy charger of the Princeton side overthrew everything he came in contact with; and in every game, just when the interest in one of those delightful rushes at the fence was culminating, the persecuted ball would fly for refuge into the next lot, and produce a cessation of hostilities until, after the invariable “foul,” it was put in straight.

Well, at last we won the match, having won the first, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, and tenth games; leaving Princeton the second, fourth, seventh, and eighth. The seventh game would probably have been added to our score but for one of our players, who, in his ardor, forgot which way he was kicking, a mistake for which he fully atoned afterward.

To sum up: Princeton had the most muscle, but didn’t kick very well, and wanted organization. They evidently don’t like to kick the ball on the ground. Our men, on the other hand, though comparatively weak, ran well, and kicked well throughout. But their great point was their organization, for which great praise is due to the Captain, Leggett ’72. The right men were always in the right place.

After the match, the players had an amicable “feed” together, and at eight o’clock our guests went home, in high good spirits, but thirsting to beat us next time, if they can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 1869 Targum Article About America's First College Football Game

Today's the 143rd anniversary of the first intercollegiate football game between Rutgers and Princeton (and Notre Dame is making a big fucking deal about their 125th anniversary this year).

About a dozen years ago I was lucky enough to receive as a present the book that you see to your right. If the gift-giver who stumbled on it in a used book store had been a loyal son of Rutgers rather than a graduate of Boston University, he never would have passed this treasure along to to me. It's long out of print (it doesn't even have an ISBN number); it was published to coincide with the 200th anniversary of Rutgers in 1966. This little (250-page) book consists of about 40 short chapters or anecdotes about our alma mater (including the one retyped below). Rutgers University Press also published a larger, more official title, Rutgers: A Bicentennial History, by Richard P. McCormick, chairman of the History Department in 1966 and a professor of mine in 1973 (and the father of the former President McCormick).

The details of the game reprinted below are a little like reading the details of a cricket match (if, like me, you don't know all the rules of cricket), but here's the first-hand report of the first intercollegiate game of "foot-ball" played on American soil; here it is exactly as reported first in the Targum in 1869, and as reprinted in Aloud to Alma Mater, edited by George Lukac, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1966, pages 67-69.

Enjoy! But remember, there will be a pop quiz on this information later this year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Birth of Intercollegiate Football

On Saturday, November 6, Princeton sent twenty-five picked men to play our twenty-five a match game of foot-ball. The strangers came up in the ten o’clock train, and brought a good number of backers with them. After dinner, and a stroll around the town, during which stroll billiards received a good deal of attention, the crowd began to assemble at the ball ground, which, for the benefit of the ignorant, we would say, is a lot about a hundred yards wide, extending from College Avenue to Sicard Street. Previous to calling the game, the ground presented an animated picture. Grim looking players were silently stripping, each one surrounded by sympathizing friends, while around each of the captains was a little crowd, intent upon giving advice, and saying as much as possible. The appearance of the Princeton men was very different from that of our own players. They were almost without exception tall and muscular, while the majority of our twenty-five are small and light, but possess the merit of being up to much more than they look.

Very few were the preliminaries, and they were quickly agreed upon. The Princeton captain, for some reason or other, gave up every point to our men without contesting one. The only material points were that Princeton gave up “free kicks,” whereby a player, when he catches the ball in the air, is allowed to kick it without hindrance. On the other hand, our practice of “babying” the ball on the start was discarded, and the ball was mounted, in every instance, by a vigorous “long kick.”

Princeton won the toss, and chose the first mount, rather oddly, since it had been agreed to start the ball against the wind. At three p.m. the game was called. The Princetonians suffered from making a bad “mount” or “buck” as they call it; the effects of which were not remedied before the sides closed, and after a brief struggle, Rutgers drove it home, and won, amid great applause from the crowd. The sides were changed, Rutgers started the ball, and after a somewhat longer fight Princeton made it a tie by a well directed kick, from a gentleman whose name we don’t know, but who did the best kicking on the Princeton side.

To describe the varying fortunes of the match, game by game, would be a waste of labor, for every game was like the one before. There was the same headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking. In every game the cool goal-tenders saved the Rutgers goal half a dozen times; in every game the heavy charger of the Princeton side overthrew everything he came in contact with; and in every game, just when the interest in one of those delightful rushes at the fence was culminating, the persecuted ball would fly for refuge into the next lot, and produce a cessation of hostilities until, after the invariable “foul,” it was put in straight.

Well, at last we won the match, having won the first, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, and tenth games; leaving Princeton the second, fourth, seventh, and eighth. The seventh game would probably have been added to our score but for one of our players, who, in his ardor, forgot which way he was kicking, a mistake for which he fully atoned afterward.

To sum up: Princeton had the most muscle, but didn’t kick very well, and wanted organization. They evidently don’t like to kick the ball on the ground. Our men, on the other hand, though comparatively weak, ran well, and kicked well throughout. But their great point was their organization, for which great praise is due to the Captain, Leggett ’72. The right men were always in the right place.

After the match, the players had an amicable “feed” together, and at eight o’clock our guests went home, in high good spirits, but thirsting to beat us next time, if they can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rutgers vs. Princeton

This is not related to sports, but I was in the car over the weekend and heard the end of the "Nemeses" episode of This American Life, with this story, "A Tale of Two Jerseys" by Chris Gethard, which you can listen to at the 36 minute mark using the widget below, or read the transcript here.

Revisiting the 1869 College Football Season

I've mentioned The Unbalanced Line here before because I think it it without a doubt the most historically aware college football blog; this seems appropriate, since the writer's home team is the team that plays its home games at West Point (and, occasionally, Yankees Stadium).
I've been busy with work and other things, but today's unexpected snow day from work has allowed me to slow down and reconnect a little with blogs and Twitter. Wandering around the interweb, I discovered that T.U.L.'s most recent post from yesterday -- "Year by Year: 1869 Season" -- is of special interest to all fans of the Rutgers Scarlet Knights.

Merry Christmas from Beat Visitor dot com

Here's a little Christmas present from Beat Visitor dot com at the end of a 9-4 Scarlet Knights football season that many found disappointing. And could we even imagine the word "disappointing" appearing in conjunction with the numbers 9-4 even five years ago? Or at ANY point in the long history of Rutgers football? With that historical perspective of our current situation in mind, we thought you might enjoy a blast from the past. This article, "SHADES OF 1869: First intercollegiate football game is re-enacted at Princeton," from the November 4, 1946 issue of Life magazine shows in words and pictures a postwar (post World War II) crowd reenacting the postwar (post Civil War) birth of intercollegiate football between Rutgers and Princeton on the 77th anniversary of that first game in New Brunswick.
If you click the link, be sure to scroll down through the advertisements to see all the pictures on pages 101 through 104 (but don't ignore the ads either, especially those for Southern Pacific's fast 52-hour travel between Chicago and LA or for Ting, the "ALMOST INCREDIBLE NEW scientifically compounded treatment for SKIN ERUPTIONS").
Merry Christmas to the Scarlet Knights and to their fans.

140 years ago today. Why isn't it a national holiday yet?

Today's the 140th anniversary of the first intercollegiate football game, so it seemed like a good time to rerun this transcript that I typed back in June from this bicentennial anthology of Rutgers stories published in 1966.
Here's the report of that first "foot-ball" game between Rutgers and Princeton as is was reported in the Targum in 1869, and as it was reprinted in Aloud to Alma Mater, edited by George Lukac, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1966, pages 67-69.

The Birth of Intercollegiate Football

On Saturday, November 6, Princeton sent twenty-five picked men to play our twenty-five a match game of foot-ball. The strangers came up in the ten o’clock train, and brought a good number of backers with them. After dinner, and a stroll around the town, during which stroll billiards received a good deal of attention, the crowd began to assemble at the ball ground, which, for the benefit of the ignorant, we would say, is a lot about a hundred yards wide, extending from College Avenue to Sicard Street. Previous to calling the game, the ground presented an animated picture. Grim looking players were silently stripping, each one surrounded by sympathizing friends, while around each of the captains was a little crowd, intent upon giving advice, and saying as much as possible. The appearance of the Princeton men was very different from that of our own players. They were almost without exception tall and muscular, while the majority of our twenty-five are small and light, but possess the merit of being up to much more than they look.

Very few were the preliminaries, and they were quickly agreed upon. The Princeton captain, for some reason or other, gave up every point to our men without contesting one. The only material points were that Princeton gave up “free kicks,” whereby a player, when he catches the ball in the air, is allowed to kick it without hindrance. On the other hand, our practice of “babying” the ball on the start was discarded, and the ball was mounted, in every instance, by a vigorous “long kick.”

Princeton won the toss, and chose the first mount, rather oddly, since it had been agreed to start the ball against the wind. At three p.m. the game was called. The Princetonians suffered from making a bad “mount” or “buck” as they call it; the effects of which were not remedied before the sides closed, and after a brief struggle, Rutgers drove it home, and won, amid great applause from the crowd. The sides were changed, Rutgers started the ball, and after a somewhat longer fight Princeton made it a tie by a well directed kick, from a gentleman whose name we don’t know, but who did the best kicking on the Princeton side.

To describe the varying fortunes of the match, game by game, would be a waste of labor, for every game was like the one before. There was the same headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking. In every game the cool goal-tenders saved the Rutgers goal half a dozen times; in every game the heavy charger of the Princeton side overthrew everything he came in contact with; and in every game, just when the interest in one of those delightful rushes at the fence was culminating, the persecuted ball would fly for refuge into the next lot, and produce a cessation of hostilities until, after the invariable “foul,” it was put in straight.

Well, at last we won the match, having won the first, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, and tenth games; leaving Princeton the second, fourth, seventh, and eighth. The seventh game would probably have been added to our score but for one of our players, who, in his ardor, forgot which way he was kicking, a mistake for which he fully atoned afterward.

To sum up: Princeton had the most muscle, but didn’t kick very well, and wanted organization. They evidently don’t like to kick the ball on the ground. Our men, on the other hand, though comparatively weak, ran well, and kicked well throughout. But their great point was their organization, for which great praise is due to the Captain, Leggett ’72. The right men were always in the right place.

After the match, the players had an amicable “feed” together, and at eight o’clock our guests went home, in high good spirits, but thirsting to beat us next time, if they can.

Your Summer Reading: "National Champions of 1869," or "Beat Visitor #1"

Don't you love the way the dustjacket on this old book is designed so that the graduates look as if they are listening to a speech from Willie the Silent? (When I received my degree on Vorhees Mall in the '70's, we were down at the other end facing Old Queens, with our backs to Willie.)

About ten years ago I was lucky enough to receive as a present the book that you see to your right. If the gift-giver who stumbled on it in a used book store had been a loyal son of Rutgers rather than a graduate of Boston University, he never would have passed this treasure along to to me. It's long out of print (it doesn't even have an ISBN number); it was published to coincide with the 200th anniversary of Rutgers in 1966. This little (250-page) book consists of about 40 short chapters or anecdotes about our alma mater (including the one retyped below). Rutgers University Press also published a larger, more official title, Rutgers: A Bicentennial History, by Richard P. McCormick, chairman of the History Department in 1966 and a professor of mine in 1973 (and the father of the current President McCormick).
The details of the game reprinted below are a little like reading the details of a cricket match (if, like me, you don't know all the rules of cricket), but here's the first-hand report of the first intercollegiate game of any sort ("foot-ball" or otherwise) played on American soil; here it is exactly as reported first in the Targum in 1869, and as reprinted in Aloud to Alma Mater, edited by George Lukac, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1966, pages 67-69.

Enjoy! But remember, there will be a pop quiz on this information later this year.

The Birth of Intercollegiate Football

On Saturday, November 6, Princeton sent twenty-five picked men to play our twenty-five a match game of foot-ball. The strangers came up in the ten o’clock train, and brought a good number of backers with them. After dinner, and a stroll around the town, during which stroll billiards received a good deal of attention, the crowd began to assemble at the ball ground, which, for the benefit of the ignorant, we would say, is a lot about a hundred yards wide, extending from College Avenue to Sicard Street. Previous to calling the game, the ground presented an animated picture. Grim looking players were silently stripping, each one surrounded by sympathizing friends, while around each of the captains was a little crowd, intent upon giving advice, and saying as much as possible. The appearance of the Princeton men was very different from that of our own players. They were almost without exception tall and muscular, while the majority of our twenty-five are small and light, but possess the merit of being up to much more than they look.

Very few were the preliminaries, and they were quickly agreed upon. The Princeton captain, for some reason or other, gave up every point to our men without contesting one. The only material points were that Princeton gave up “free kicks,” whereby a player, when he catches the ball in the air, is allowed to kick it without hindrance. On the other hand, our practice of “babying” the ball on the start was discarded, and the ball was mounted, in every instance, by a vigorous “long kick.”

Princeton won the toss, and chose the first mount, rather oddly, since it had been agreed to start the ball against the wind. At three p.m. the game was called. The Princetonians suffered from making a bad “mount” or “buck” as they call it; the effects of which were not remedied before the sides closed, and after a brief struggle, Rutgers drove it home, and won, amid great applause from the crowd. The sides were changed, Rutgers started the ball, and after a somewhat longer fight Princeton made it a tie by a well directed kick, from a gentleman whose name we don’t know, but who did the best kicking on the Princeton side.

To describe the varying fortunes of the match, game by game, would be a waste of labor, for every game was like the one before. There was the same headlong running, wild shouting, and frantic kicking. In every game the cool goal-tenders saved the Rutgers goal half a dozen times; in every game the heavy charger of the Princeton side overthrew everything he came in contact with; and in every game, just when the interest in one of those delightful rushes at the fence was culminating, the persecuted ball would fly for refuge into the next lot, and produce a cessation of hostilities until, after the invariable “foul,” it was put in straight.

Well, at last we won the match, having won the first, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, and tenth games; leaving Princeton the second, fourth, seventh, and eighth. The seventh game would probably have been added to our score but for one of our players, who, in his ardor, forgot which way he was kicking, a mistake for which he fully atoned afterward.

To sum up: Princeton had the most muscle, but didn’t kick very well, and wanted organization. They evidently don’t like to kick the ball on the ground. Our men, on the other hand, though comparatively weak, ran well, and kicked well throughout. But their great point was their organization, for which great praise is due to the Captain, Leggett ’72. The right men were always in the right place.

After the match, the players had an amicable “feed” together, and at eight o’clock our guests went home, in high good spirits, but thirsting to beat us next time, if they can.

The Company We Keep

I stumbled upon this website for CollegeBands.net through one of the Google links in my sidebar this afternoon.
I find it interesting that the only schools represented on their products are Georgetown, Harvard, Princeton, and Rutgers. If the Rutgers 1000 blog hadn't committed suicide on December 12, I'm sure they would have been very proud (or bemused or affronted or horrified).

Another Historic First for Rutgers and Princeton

I had no idea, until picking up an old (February 14) edition of The Onion at my local newspaper box at lunchtime today, that RU and PU also get credit (or blame) for an annual event that runs on Animal Planet opposite the Superbowl.
An Onion Sportsgraphic on page 16 informed me in its first of many "Puppy Bowl Highlights" of the following historic fact:

1869: Rutgers the basset hound and Princeton the cocker spaniel square off in a playful romp that will eventually inspire today's Puppy Bowl

Yet another feather in our cap!

Let's see those smartypantses at McGill University steal that accomplishment from us!!

It's Anniversary Week at Rutgers

1766 - - This Saturday, November 10th, will mark the 241st anniversary of William Franklin's granting a charter for Queen's College, named in honor of Charlotte, George III's Queen Consort (who also gave her name to Charlottesville, Virginia, and Charlotte, North Carolina). William Franklin was not only the Provincial Governor of New Jersey, but also the illegitimate son of Benjamin Franklin. The name change honoring Henry Rutgers came in 1825.

1869-- Yesterday, November 6th, marked the 138th anniversary of the first intercollegiate football game held on the College Avenue campus in New Brunswick. There will be thousands and thousands of college football victories in the years to come, but only one school - - our school -- can lay claim to the first intercollegiate football victory. The fact that it came over those snobs down the road in Princeton (yes, they were snooty even then), makes this date even sweeter.

2006-- This Friday, November 9th, marks the first anniversary of the football team's explosion onto the national stage with the emotional come-from-behind Thursday night defeat of #3 Louisville at Rutgers Stadium. Let's all celebrate this year up at West Point.

Birthplace of College Football, Ultimate Frisbee, & Whiffle Hurling

We all know Rutgers as the Birthplace of College Football with the first game between Rutgers and Princeton on November 6, 1869.

Others of us are well aware of the fact that Rutgers was also the site of the first intercollegiate Ultimate Frisbee competition (again between Rutgers and Princeton) on November 6, 1972.

Today in the "Virtual Worlds" gaming section of Wired.com, there's a commentary about a non-virtual game played with real players, goals, and wiffle* balls and bats. The sport of Wiffle* Hurling [video] was invented by a Rutgers MFA student, Tom Russotti, as an exercise in Aesthletics, but it seems to be screaming for its first intercollegiate introduction. Only two questions need to be answered before that can happen:

1. Does Princeton have a team yet?


2. And which team is going to be forced to wear the sombreros?

-----------------------
*Both spellings, Wiffle Hurling and Whiffle Hurling, seem to used currently, so search on both if you want to learn more.
The NCAA will have to decide whether or not to retain the h before it becomes a big-time sport and the TV dollars start rolling in.