“In my coaching experience,” Sandy tells us, “I doubt if I ever coached a man where my hard work counted for more at Yale than the case of Charlie Chadwick in 1897.  For many years there has been a saying that a one man defense is as good as an eleven men defense, providing you can get one man who can do it.

“Of course this never worked out literally, but the case of Charlie Chadwick is probably the best explanation of its value.  Besides being overdeveloped, he was temperamental.  At times he would show great form and at other times his playing was hopeless.  This year I was asked to come to New Haven and began coaching the linemen.  Chadwick looked good to me, in spite of much criticism that was made by the coaches.  In their opinion they thought he was not to be relied upon, so I decided to stake my reputation, and began in my own way, feeling sure that I could get results, in preparing him for the Harvard and Princeton games.

[Illustration:  LEARNING THE CHARGE]

“I started out purposely annoying Chadwick in every possible way, going with him wherever he went.  I went with him to his room evenings and did not leave until he had become so bored that he fell asleep, or that he got mad and told me to get out.  I planned it that Chadwick approach the coaches whenever he saw them together and say:  ’I wish you would let me play on this team.  If you will I will play the game of my life.  I will play like hell.’  After he had made this speech two or three times, they were very positive that he was more than temperamental.  I kept steadily at my plan, however, and felt sure it would work out.

“The line was finally turned over to me and I had opportunity to slip Chadwick in for two or three plays at left guard.  He played like a demon; he was literally a one man defense, but he received no credit.  I immediately removed him from the game and criticised him severely and told him to follow up the play and in case I needed him he would be handy.  I realized what a great player he was proving to be, and my great problem then was how I was to convince the coaches that Chadwick should start the game.  I tried it out a few times, but saw it was useless trying to convince them, so I decided to concentrate on Jim Rodgers, the Captain.  Jim consented.  My plan was to tell no one except Marshall, the man whose place Chadwick was to take.  The lineup was called out in the dressing room before the game.  Chadwick’s name was not included.  I had arranged with Julian Curtis, who was in close touch with the cheer leaders, that when I gave the signal, the Yale crowd would be instructed to stand and yell nothing but ‘Chadwick, Chadwick, Chadwick.’  The Yale team ran out upon the field.  I stayed behind with Chadwick and came in through the gate holding him by the arm.  Before going on the side lines I stopped him and said:  ’Look here, Chadwick.  It doesn’t look as though you’re going to play, but if I put you in that lineup how will you play?’ Like a shot from a cannon he roared:  ‘I’ll play like hell.’