He began training at Princeton in 1883 and he finished his work there. How fine was the tribute that was paid him on the day of his funeral! Dolly Dillon, captain of the 1906 team, and his loyal team mates, all of whom had been carefully attended by Jim Robinson on the football field that fall, acted as pallbearers. There was also a host of old athletes and friends from all over the country who came to pay their last tribute to this great sportsman and trainer.
Mike Murphy and Jim Robinson were always contesting trainers. At Princeton that day with the team gathered around, Murphy related some interesting and touching experiences of Jim's career.
Jim's family still lives at Princeton, and on one of my recent visits there, I called upon Mrs. Robinson. We talked of Jim, and I saw again the loving cups and trophies that Jim had shown me years before.
Jim Robinson trained many of the heroes of the old days, Hector Cowan being one of them. In later years he idolized the playing of that great football hero, John DeWitt, who appreciated all that Jim did to make his team the winner. The spirit of Jim Robinson was comforting as well as humorous. No mention of Jim would be complete without his dialect.
He was an Englishman and abused his h's in a way that was a delight to the team. Ross McClave tells of fun at the training table one day when he asked Jim how to spell "saloon." Jim, smiling broadly and knowing he was to amuse these fellows as he had the men in days gone by, said: "Hess—Hay—Hell—two Hoes—and—a Hen."
Few men got more work out of a team than did Jim Robinson. There was always a time for play and a time for work with Jim.
Mike Murphy
Mike Murphy was the dean of trainers.
Bob Torrey, one of the most remarkable center-rushes that Pennsylvania ever had, is perhaps one of the greatest admirers of Mike Murphy during his latter years. Torrey can tell it better than I can.