Friday, Dec. 1, 1893
Omaha Bee, Page 1
NEBRASKA WON IT
Iowa's Cherubs Smothered in Snow and
STATE UNIVERSITY TEAM CONQUERS
Scores with the Hawkeye Favorites Now
Stand at Evens.
BIG FLIPPIN AND THE YONTS DID IT
Magnificent Work of the Three Backs,
Aided by Oury and Whipple.
NOT BLUFFED BY A HOWLING BLIZZARD
Cold Wind and Driving Snow Were Not
Enough to Stop the Progress
of a Fine Game of
The red and white floats proudly over the old gold.
The great Thanksgiving foot ball battle was won by Nebraska by the slender margin of two points. The contest was between the elevens of the University of this state and that of Iowa. The score was 20 to 18 – about a 2 to 1 base ball game.
It was the most important game that was ever played in this neck 'o the woods, the principal importance being whether the Prohibitionists were to prove their superiority over the Antelopes. They won year before last and last year made it a draw. But yesterday they went down in the dust, or the snow, more properly speaking, in fine style.
The result was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky to the brawny athletes from across the river. They were disappointed, aye even dazed, for while they came here with a presentiment that Captain Johnston's sturdy boys might make the afternoon interesting for them, they trusted to their greater experience and Iowa luck to smother the Nebraskans in the end.
The followers of the white and red were exceedingly jubilant after the conflict, as well they might be, for they hardly dreamed of repulsing and routing their old-time and persistent foe.
Changed a Condition.
For years the wearers of the old gold have looked upon the Nebraskans as mere Liliputs in their hands, with whom they could dally and toy as they pleased upon the gridiron. The tie of last year they claimed was only a faux pas – a fluke, and could not occur again in a hundred years. Last evening, however, as the red sun sank in his icy bed they awakened to the fact the Antelopes had taken a progressive step in the science of the game, and in fact, had grown altogether too strong and too healthy for them.
There were fully 1,000 people inside Young Men's Christian association park, and that, too, despite the fact that a stiff wind came down from the home of the walrus and white bear, with an edge on it as keen as a razor. The heavens also were hung with heavy, leaden clouds, while the earth was scantily mantled with the beautiful. It was a day well calculated for putting away good dinners and hugging radiator and base burner, instead of standing out in the refrigerative breezes and imagining you were having a high old time watching a score of men pile themselves up on top of each other, roll off, knock one another down, run a short ways, then jump into another kicking, squirming, scrambling, reticulated and inextricable heap.
And there were many ladies in the crowd – some from abroad, but generally resident here – gaily decorated tally-hos, handsome victorias and stylish drags. Had the weather been less hyperboreau, and had Old Sol seen proper to have suffused the field with his bland smiles, it is safe to say there would have been several thousand more. All fashionable Omaha would have been there, anyway, for it is the haut ton who are in such clever touch just now with the rough-and-tumble, catch-as-catch-can, go-as-you-please fad, yelept for short – foot ball.
Hustled from the Kick Off.
Well, I don't blame the swells and swellesses one whit, it is a blood thrilling sport, quick and decisive and full of that dash and boldness that both men and women admire in men. That the battle between the two states yesterday afternoon was a royal one, I hardly think you can find any person who was there to deny. It was a pyrotechnic athletic display, full of vim and frost from the moment Referee Charlie Wilson tooted his little german silver whistle until the jig was altitudinized. It was one of the prettiest fights of the holiday season – slap, bang, biff, rush, scramble, scrimmage and collision all through, and not a man ruled off, knocked out or disqualified, either. The wild huzzas of the male spectators and the soprano plaudits of the ladies, as they drew their delicate noses down in the fur and feather and disturbed the frapeed moisture with their little wootsie footsies, were evidence enough that all were enjoying immensely the gladiatorial prowess of the collegians in their sporty calisthenics upon the gridiron.
Time was called by Referee Wilson at 3:15. But, excuse me, I forgot to mention that Lieutenant Jim Wright of Fort Omaha, panoplied in a big grizzly bear coat, and with his whiskers full of lemon ice, officiated most creditably in the position of umpire, in fact, his work was still another feature of the contest. And before going further I want to mention that there was yet another conspicuous feature of the great strife, and that was the wretched and ludicrous work of a couple of wooden policemen whom the chief had sent out there to keep the ring – the field, I mean – clear of intruders and to preserve order. So far as the arrangements which had been made by the Young Men's Christian association were concerned, they were all right. The trouble was that its members could not be in all parts of the grounds at once, and the brace of coppers who were on hand got interested in the game and let men and boys swarm over the field at will. At times they followed the players like a flock of stampeded sheep, and frequently it was necessary to call time in order that the game could proceed. It was the utter inefficiency of these two bluecoats that marred what was otherwise a superb spectacle – a grand and plucky game.
Nebraska's Excellent Interference.
As I said before, Referee Wilson called that game at 3:15, but before plunging into the technique of the same allow me to say that the Hawkeye lads were lamentably weak in their defense, and most all of their gains were made through the center, Meyer, Elliott, Hess and Aldrich working nearly all their points in on this style of play. Nebraska's interference was admirable, and was the cause of much astonishment to the crowd, who really looked to see her go down an easy victim. It also nonplussed Captain Elliott's forces, and in consequence the Antelopes secured many big gains around the ends. Nebraska, too, as remarkable as it seems, had a fashion of moving before the ball was snapped back, and this trick greatly disconcerted her opponents, who often found it a big job to make out who had captured the resilient sphere.
On every hand were heard heard warm words of praise for big Flippin, Nebraska's left half back, and Little Yont, whose dashes around the end were phenomenal, their blocking, bucking and interferences being magnificent.
Oury and Whipple, the Omaha boys, also played a superb game, as did Big Yont and Frank, outside of the latter's punting, which was poor. Meyer played a beautiful game for Iowa, barring one bad fumble, which resulted subsequently in giving Nebraska a twenty-five yard run. Aldrich and Hess were also Hawkeye heroes.
The two teams struggled ferociously for a quarter of an hour before Nebraska got a goal, Little Yont achieving the honor by a fifty-yard spring around the left end, carried part of the way by the sheer force of big Flippin's sturdy legs and broad shoulders and his brother's intelligent clearing.
Antelopes to the Front.
Nebraska opened with the ball, and it took her just five minutes, by masterly runs by Little Yont, Flippin and Big Yont, to carry it to Iowa's twenty-five yard line, and Jemimany! how the crowd did yell and howl. There was enough college gibberish in the flaeculent atmosphere to keep the north part of town resonant until another Thanksgiving rolls around. And then, when Flippin and Big Yont, well backed by Oury and Whipple, by sheer force carried the pigskin to the Prohibitionists' ten yard line, the roar was almost deafening and the devotees of the red and the white were fit subjects for padded cells.
But, lackacay! right here Iowa, in a fumble, took the ball and the Hawkeye youths and maidens opened their frozen kissers in joyous acclaim. Iowa's rish line, her strongest element, was working well, and Hess, Aldrich, Terrell and Elliott, the latter by a twenty-yard run, carried the ball well back on Nebraska's territory. Hess, too, would have succeeded in eluding the whole red and white gang entirely but for a flying tackle from the agile Mr. Wiggins. Not having made their five-yard gain in three downs, Sawyer caught the snapback and passed the ball back to Elliott, who sent it flying for fifty yards over the gridiron. Nebraska then took the leather and a good gain was made around the right end, after which Little Yont made his famous sprint for the first touchdown. Frank kicked a goal.
Time: Fifteen minutes actual playing time. Score – Nebraska, 6; Iowa, 0.
Iowa Evened Her Up.
With twenty-five minutes more to play in the first half the Old Golds gained twenty yards with a flying wedge, and twenty more on the next down, through plucky play on the part of Hess, Aldrich, Elliott and Hopewell.*
Then they lost five yards for an offside play. No gain was made on the next down. On the following, Elliott carried the oval bag to within a foot of Nebraska's goal line, and the excitement was intense. Then the next moment, when Terrell managed to score the first touchdown against Nebraska, the Hawkeye dervishes went fairly daft. The yellow-beribboned youths looked at the girls, then fell on each other's necks and hugged each other for very joy, and in a score of other ways indicated their mad delight.
Rogers kicked the goal and the score was a tie – 6 to 6. Time: Sixteen minutes.
Big Yont's Touchdown.
The Antelopes were now working like Trojans, and advanced the ball by bold, steady, rapid playing of Oury, Whipple, Flippin, Wilson and the Yonts to the ten-yard line of the Hawkeyes. Flippin followed by a bull-like break through the center for five more, Whipple gaining another by similar tactics. Nebraska's herculean half back here made up his mind that it was time for him to add a few points to his side's score, and on the next effort he scored a touchdown. Frank blundered in his attempt to kick goal, and the score stood 10 to 6 in Nebraska's favor. Time: Ten minutes.
Iowa again got off with the favorite flying wedge, and Hess looked dangerous as he dashed forward like a war hoss, but Oury made a lovely stop, and he only got ten yards to his credit. He soon added five more, however, when Collins lost the porcine cuticle on a miserable fumble.
As a starter for the Antelopes, Little Yont gathered the snapback to his throbbing breast, and, by as gallant a run as you ever saw, round the left and, and through the panic-stricken crowd, reeled off seventy-five yards before the Prohibitionists could shake the icicles out of their whiskers and jump onto him. Then Oury and Flippin made gains of two and seven yards respectively; Little Yont twenty more and Flippin would undoubtedly have secured his second touchdown had he not slipped and fell; as it was he reached Iowa's ten-yard line, and then the ball went to the latter on downs, Nebraska persistently bucking the center and failing to accomplish anything.
And thus ended the first half. Score – Nebraska 10, Iowa 6.**
Everybody Was in This.
The Prohibs were frisky as fleas in the opening of the second half, and by pugnacious work through the center, mostly by Meyers, gained a half-hundred yards. Here Meyers stepped on one of his feet and executed a brilliant fumble. Wilson dropped on the ball, and Nebraska took a turn. It was big Flippin alone for fifteen, five and ten yards, when Yont made a twenty-yard kick and prospects looked flattering, when the ball went back to Iowa on downs. She accomplished nothing worth speaking of, however, when she in turn handed back the oval to the Antelopes on failure to make her five-yard gain.
Oury shot through the center for a half dozen yards, Whipple tacking on four more by heroic measures. Then Big Yont went around the left end and ran the ball to a foot from Iowa's goal line. The next thing they did, however, was to lose three yards, Iowa carrying the entire rush line back bodily on an attempt of Nebraska to get through the center. Amends were quickly made the next moment by Flippin, who carried the ball, along with three or four frantic Hawkeyes on this back, across the goal line for his third touchdown. Frank, a second time, failed to kick a goal. Score: Nebraska, 14; Iowa, 6. Time: Thirty minutes.
Iowa Gains Again.
Iowa was beautifully stopped on Nebraska's line. Meyers then failed in an attempt to get around the end, but Collins went through the line for five yards. Aldrich made gains of ten and five yards by working round the end. Hess added a couple, when Aldrich gathered in five more – all end plays. Elliott here went through the center for five. Collins executed another of his artistic fumbles and Wilson hopped on the ball.
Big Flippin was then sent through the lines for fifteen yards. Futile attempts followed, but finally Little Yont got through the center for three, which Flippin immediately stretched into thirteen by adding ten more around the right end. Yont made a punt of forty yards and the Hawkeyes got the ball. Meyers, Hess and Aldrich were repeatedly sent through the center for gains aggregating thirty yards. Hess went around the end of four yards, and Elliott, following in a similar play, made a touchdown. Rogers kicked goal.
Score: Nebraska 14; Iowa 12. Time: Twelve minutes.
Nebraska's Last Score.
The flying wedge netted Nebraska fifteen yards, to which the ubiquitous Flippin generously tacked on eight more by going through the center. Again Little Yont got away with the ball, and by the assistance of the usual Nebraska breakwater, made a magnificent run around the left and again through the scattering ranks of the panic-stricken spectators, scored his second touchdown. Frank kicked a goal.
Score: Nebraska 20; Iowa 12. Time: Five minutes.
By successive plays Meyers made twelve yards through the line, to which Hess and Aldrich added by like plays. Then the Dago, as Meyers is playfully dubbed, made a dash around the right end and scored the last touchdown of the game. Rogers kicked goal.
Score: Nebraska, 20; Iowa, 18. Time: Six and one-half minutes.
The teams were:
|Iowa.|| Position.|| Nebraska.|
|Tyrrell|| right end left||Johnston (capt.)|
|Collins||right tackle left||Oury|
|Allen||right guard left||Wilson|
|Pritchard||left guard right||Dern|
|Aldrich||left tackle right||Whipple|
|Littig||left end right||Wiggins|
|Hess||right half left||Little Yont|
|Meyers||left half right||Flippin|
|Elliott (capt.)||full back||Big Yont|
Score first half: Nebraska, 10, Iowa, 6. Touchdowns: Little Yont, 1; Flippin, 1; Terrell, 1. Goal from touchdown: Frank, 1, Rogers, 1.
Score second half: Nebraska, 20; Iowa, 18. Touchdowns: Flippin, 1; Little Yont, 1; Elliott, 1; Meyers, 1. Goals from touchdown: Rogers, 2; Frank 1.
Referee: Charlie Wilson.
Umpire: Lieutenant Wright.
Owing to the fact that the remarkably obtrusive weather yesterday prevented a large number of the admirers of foot ball from witnessing the fierce contest, of which the foregoing is a faithful history, both teams have consented to stay over and play again tomorrow, this being the first time in three years that Nebraska has succeeded in defeating Iowa. The Prohibitionists are wild to retrieve their defeat and smooth the creases out of their glory. The game will be called at 2:30 sharp.***
* Apparently by mistake, the writer lists Hopewell, Nebraska's center, among Iowa players.
** The story actually gives the halftime score as 14-6, but that had to have been a typo.
*** The Saturday game was not played after all, perhaps because of continued bad weather or perhaps because the enthusiasm for a rematch fizzled.