“You could have heard him a mile.  ’Well then, give me your sweater and warm up,’ I said, and as I gave the signal to Julian Curtis, he passed the word on to the cheer leaders and the sight of Chadwick running up and down those side lines will never be forgotten.  It is estimated that he leaped five yards at a stride, and with the students cheering, ‘Chadwick, Chadwick, Chadwick,’ he was sent out into the lineup—­and the rest, well, you’d better ask the men who played on the Harvard team that day.  It was a stream of men going on and off the field and they were headed for right guard position on the Harvard side.  Harvard could not beat Chadwick, so the game ended in a tie.”

Jim Rodgers, captain of that team, also has something to say of Chadwick.

“In the Harvard-Yale game,” Rodgers writes, “Charlie Chadwick played the game of his life.  He used up about six men who played against him that day, but he never could put out Bill Edwards the day we played Princeton.  I played against Chadwick on the Scrub, and the first charge he made against me I went clean back to fullback.  It was just as though an automobile had hit me.  I played against Heffelfinger and a lot of them.  I could hold those fellows.  Gee! but I was sore.  I said to myself, you won’t do that again, and the next time I was set back just as far.

“One feature of this Yale-Princeton game impressed me tremendously, that of Bill Edwards’ stand, against what I considered a superman, Charles Chadwick.  Before the game I had confidently expected Big Bill to resign after about five minutes’ play, knowing, as I did, how Chadwick was going.  In this, however, Edwards was a great disappointment, as he stuck the game out and was stronger at the end, than at the start or half way through.  Had he weakened at all, Ad Kelly’s great offensive work would have been doomed to failure.  Edwards finished up the game against Chadwick with a face that resembled a raw beefsteak.  To my mind he was the worst punished man I have ever seen.  He stood by his guns to the finish, and ever since then my hat has been off to him.”

One of the most interesting characters in Southern football is W. R. Tichenor, a thorough enthusiast in the game and known wherever there is a football in the South.  His father was president of the Alabama Polytechnic.  He was a fine player and weighed about 120 pounds.  He is the emergency football man of the South.  Whenever there is a football dispute Tichenor settles it.  Whenever a coach is taken sick, Tichenor is called upon to take his place.  Whenever an emergency official is needed, Tich comes to the rescue.  He tells the following story: 

“Every boy who has been to Auburn in the last twenty years knows Bob Frazier.  Many of them, however, may not recognize that name, as he has been called Bob ‘Sponsor’ for so long that few of them know his real name.  Bob is as black as the inside of a coal mine and has rubbed and worked for the various teams at Auburn ’since the memory of man runneth not to the contrary.’