“Andy Smith was one of the gamest men I ever played against.  This big, determined, husky offensive fullback and defensive end, when he wasn’t butting his head into our impregnable line, was smashing an interference that nearly killed him in every other play.  Battered and bruised he kept coming on, and to every one’s surprise he lasted the entire game.  Years afterward he showed me the scars on his head, where the wounds had healed, with the naive remark:  ’Some team you fellows had that year, Fred.’  Some team was right.  And we all remember Andy and his own individual greatness.”

There is no finer, unselfish spirit brought out in football, than that evidenced in the following story, told by Shep Homans, an old time Princeton fullback: 

“A young fellow named Hodge, who was quarterback on the Princeton scrub, was making a terrific effort to play the best he could on the last day of practice before the Yale game.  He had hoped even at the last hour that the opportunity might be afforded him to be a substitute quarter in the game.  However, his leg was broken in a scrimmage.  As he lay on the ground in great pain, realizing what had happened and forgetting himself, he looked up and said: 

“’I’m mighty glad it is not one of the regulars who is hurt, so that our chance against Yale will not be affected.’”

Crolius, one of the hardest men to stop that Dartmouth ever had, tells of Arthur Poe’s gameness, when they played together on the Homestead Athletic Club team, after they left college.  “Arthur Poe was about as game a man as the football world ever saw.  He was handicapped in his playing by a knee which would easily slip out of place.  We men who played with him on the Homestead team were often stopped after Arthur had made a magnificent tackle and had broken up heavy interference, with this quiet request: 

“‘Pull my bum knee back into place.’

“After this was done, he would jump up and no one would ever know that it had been out.  This man, who perhaps was the smallest man playing at that time, was absolutely unprotected.  His suit consisted of a pair of shoes, stockings, unpadded pants, jersey and one elastic knee bandage.”

Mike Donohue, a Yale man who had been coach at Auburn for many years, vouches for the following story: 

When Mike went to Auburn and for several years thereafter he had no one to assist him, except a few of the old players, who would drop in for a day or so during the latter part of the season.  One afternoon Mike happened to glance down at the lower end of the field where a squad of grass-cutters (the name given to the fourth and fifth teams) were booting the ball around, when he noticed a pretty good sized boy who was swinging his foot into the ball with a good stiff leg and was kicking high and getting fine distance.  Mike made a mental note of this fact and decided to investigate later, as a good punter was very hard to find.