It is very doubtful whether the inside story of Harvard's victory over Yale in 1908 has ever been told. Those who remember this game know that the way for victory was paved by Ver Wiebe and Vic Kennard. Harry Kersburg, a Harvard coach, writes of that incident:
"The summer of 1907 and 1908, Kennard worked for several hours each day perfecting his kicking. This fact was known to only one of the coaches. In 1906 and 1907, Kennard played as a substitute but was most unfortunate in being smashed up in nearly every game in which he played. On account of this record, he was given little or no attention at the beginning of the 1908 season, even though the one coach who had great confidence in Kennard's ability as a kicker rooted hard for him at every coaches' meeting. About the middle of the season, Dave Campbell came on from the West and with the one lone coach became interested in Kennard. On the day of the Springfield Training School game, most of the Harvard coaches went down to New Haven, leaving the team in charge of Campbell and Kennard's other rooter. The psychological moment had arrived. Just as soon as the Harvard team had rolled up a tidy little score, Kennard was sent into the game and instructions were given to the quarterback that he was to signal for a drop kick every time the Harvard team was within forty yards of the opponent's goal—no matter what the angle might be. The game ended with Kennard having kicked four goals from the field out of six tries. Nearly all of them were kicked from an average distance of thirty yards and at very difficult angles. At the next coaches' meeting serious consideration was given to what Kennard had done and from that time on he came into his own.
"Now for Rex Ver Wiebe. For two years he had plugged away at a line position on the second team. In his senior year he was advanced to the Varsity squad. With all his hard work it seemed impossible for him to develop into anything but a mediocre lineman. The line coaches, with much regret, had about given up all hope. One afternoon, two weeks before the Yale game, one of the line coaches was standing on the side lines talking with Pooch Donovan about Ver Wiebe. Pooch said little, but kept a close watch on Ver Wiebe for the next two or three days. At the end of that time he came out with the statement that if Ver Wiebe could be taught how to start, he would rapidly develop into one of the best halfbacks on the squad. Pooch's advice was followed and in the Yale game, Ver Wiebe's rushes outside tackle were one of the features of the game and were directly responsible for the ball being brought down the field to such a position that it was possible to substitute Kennard, who kicked a goal from the field and won the first victory for Harvard against Yale in many years.
"It is a strange coincidence that the first of Harvard's string of victories against Yale was won by two men who a few weeks before the game were in the so-called football discard."
No greater honor can be accorded a football man than the invitation to come back to his Alma Mater and take charge of the football situation. Such a man has been selected after he has served efficiently at other institutions, for it takes long experience to become a great coach and there are very few men who have given up all their time to consecutive coaching.
Successful coaches, as a rule, are men who have a genius for it, and whose strong personalities bring out the natural ability of the men under them. Successful football is the result of a good system, plus good material.
Of the men who coach to-day, the experience of John H. Rush, popularly known as Speedy Rush, stands out as unique. Rush never played football, for he preferred track athletics, but he understood the theory of the game. At the University School in Cleveland where Rush taught for many years, he took charge of the football team, and although coaching mere boys, his results were marvelous, and in 1915, when the Princeton coaching system was in a slough of despond, it was decided to give Rush an opportunity to show what he could do at Princeton.
Rush makes no boasts. He is a silent worker, and football people at large were unanimous in their praise of his work at Princeton in the fall of 1915. Whatever the future holds in store for this coach, Princeton men at least are sure that an efficient policy has been established which will be followed out year after year, and that the loyal support of the Alumni is behind Rush.
There was never a time in Yale's history when so much general discussion and care entered into the selection of its football coach as in 1915. From the long list of Yale football graduates the honor was bestowed upon Tad Jones, a man whose remarkable playing record at Yale is well known. Football records tell of his wonderful runs. His personality enables him to get close to the men, and he was wonderfully successful at Exeter, coaching his old school. Tad Jones represents one of the highest types of college athletes.