A story is told of Graves’ impatience with the members of a little luncheon party, who in the course of an argument on the new football, were getting away from the fundamentals.  Rising and stepping over to the window of the Officers’ Club, he said, with a sleepy smile:  “Come here a minute, you fellows,” and, pointing down to the roadway, added, “there’s my team.”  Looking out of the window the other members of the party saw a huge steam roller snorting and puffing up the hill.

Among the men who played football with Graves and were indeed of his type, were Doe and Bunker.  Like Graves, Bunker in spite of his great weight, was fast enough to play in the backfield in those years when Army elevens were relying so much upon terrific power.  Those were the days when substitutes had very little opportunity.  In the final Navy game of 1902 the same eleven men played for the Army from start to finish.

In this period of Army football other first-class men were developed, notably Torney, a remarkable back, Thompson, a guard, and Tom Hammond, who was later to make a reputation as an end coach.  Bunker was still with this aggregation, an eleven that marched fifty yards for a touchdown in fifteen plays against the midshipmen.  The Army was among the early Eastern teams to test Eastern football methods against those of the West, the Cadets defeating a team from the University of Chicago on the plains.

The West Pointers had only one criticism to make of their visitors, and it was laconically put by one of the backs, who said: 

“They’re all-fired fast, but it’s funny how they stop when you tackle them.”

In this lineup was A. C. Tipton, at center, to whom belongs the honor of forcing the Rules Committee to change the code in one particular in order to stop a maneuver which he invented while in midcareer in a big game.  No one will ever forget how, when chasing a loose ball and realizing that he had no chance to pick it up, he kicked it again and again until it crossed the final chalk mark where he fell on it for a touchdown.  Tipton was something of a wrestler too, as a certain Japanese expert in the art of Jiu-jitsu can testify and indeed did testify on the spot after the doctors had brought him too.

There was no lowering of the standards in the succeeding years, which saw the development of players like Hackett, Prince, Farnsworth and Davis.  Those years too saw the rise of such wonderful forwards as W. W.  (Red) Erwin and that huge man from Alaska, D. D. Pullen.

Coming now to more recent times, the coaching was turned over to H. M. Nelly, assisted by Joseph W. Beacham, fresh from chasing the little brown brother in the Philippines.  Beacham had made a great reputation at Cornell, and there was evidence that he had kept up with the game at least in the matter of strategic possibilities, even while in the tangled jungle of Luzon.  He brought with him even more than that—­an uncanny ability to see through the machinery of the team and pick out its human qualities, upon which he never neglected to play.  There have been few coaches closer to his men than Joe.