[Illustration:  Al Sharpe’s goal]

I crouched as low as I could, and the more I worried the larger I seemed to be and I feared greatly for what might occur behind me.  It seemed as if I were swelling up.  But finally, as I realized that the ball had gone over me and was on its way to the goal, I breathed a sigh of relief and said,

“Thank God, it cleared!”

How eager we were to get that ball, the hard-earned prize, which now rests in the Princeton gymnasium, a companion ball to the one of the 1898 victory.  Yes, it had all been accomplished, and we were happy.  New Haven looked different to us.  It was many years since Princeton had sent Yale down to defeat on Yale Field.

Victory made us forget the sadness of former defeats.  It was a joyous crowd that rode back to the private cars.  Varsity players and substitutes shared alike in the joy, which was unrestrained.  We soon had our clothes changed, and were on our way to New York for the banquet and celebration of our victory.

Arthur Poe was the lion of the hour.  No finer fellow ever received more just tribute.

It would take a separate volume to describe the incidents of that trip from New Haven to New York.  Before it had ended we realized if we never had realized it before how sweet was victory, and how worth while the striving that brought it to us.

Suffice it to say that that Yale football was the most popular “passenger” on the train.  Over and over we played the game and a million caresses were lavished upon the trophy.

This may seem an excess of sentiment to some, but those who have played football understand me.  Looking back through the retrospect of seventeen years, I realize that I did not fully understand then the meaning of those happy moments.  I now appreciate that it was simply the deep satisfaction that comes from having made good—­the sense of real accomplishment.

Enthusiastic Princeton men were waiting for us at the Grand Central Station.  They escorted us to the Murray Hill Hotel, and the wonderful banquet that awaited us.  The spirit of the occasion will be understood by football players and enthusiasts who have enjoyed similar experiences.

The members of the team just sat and listened to speeches by the alumni and coaches.  It all seemed too good to be true.  When the gathering broke up, the players became members of different groups, who continued their celebration in the various ways provided by the hospitality of the great city.

[Illustration:  Touching the match to victory]

Hillebrand and I ended the night together.  When we awoke in the morning, the Yale football was there between our pillows, the bandaged shoulder and collar-bone of Hillebrand nestling close to it.

Then came the home-going of the team to Princeton, and the huge bonfire that the whole university turned out to build.  Some nearby wood yard was looking the next day for thirty-six cords of wood that had served as the foundation for the victorious blaze.  It was learned afterward that the owner of the cord-wood had backed the team—­so he had no regrets.