My Personal Experiences
In my experience as an official I recall the fact that I began officiating as a Referee, and had been engaged and notified in the regular way to referee the Penn'-Harvard game on Franklin Field in 1905. When I arrived at the field, McClung was the other official. He had never umpired but had always acted as a Referee. In my opinion a man should be either Referee or Umpire. Each position requires a different kind of experience and I do not believe officials can successfully interchange these positions. Those who have officiated can appreciate the predicament I was in, especially just at that time when there was so much talk of football reform, by means of changing the rules, changing the style of the game, stopping mass plays. However, I consented; for appreciating that McClung was sincere in his statement that he would do nothing but referee, I was forced to accept the Umpire's task.
It was a game full of intense rivalry. The desire to win was carrying the men beyond the bounds of an ordinarily spirited contest, and the Umpire's job proved a most severe task. It was in this game that either four or five men were disqualified.
I continued several years after this in the capacity of Umpire. One unfortunate experience as Umpire came as a result of a penalty inflicted upon Wauseka, an Indian player who had tackled too vigorously a Penn' player who was out of bounds. Much wrangling ensued and a policeman was called upon the field. It was the quickest way to keep the game from getting out of hand.
Washington and Jefferson played the Indians at Pittsburgh some years ago. I acted as Umpire. The game was played in a driving rain storm and a muddier field I never saw. The players, as well as the officials, were covered with mud. In fact my sweater was saturated, the players having used it as a sort of towel to dry their hands. A kicked ball had been fumbled on the goal line and there was a battle royal on the part of the players to get the coveted ball. I dived into the scramble of wriggling, mud-covered players to detect the man who might have the ball. The stockings and jerseys of the players were so covered with mud that you could not tell them apart. As I was forcing my way down into the mass of players I heard a man shouting for dear life: "I'm an Indian! I'm an Indian! It's my ball!"
When I finally got hold of the fellow with the ball I could not for the life of me tell whether he was an Indian or not. However, I held up the decision until some one got a bucket and sponge and the player's face was mopped off, whereupon I saw that he was an Indian all right. He had scored a touchdown for his team.
An official in the game is subject to all sorts of criticisms and abuse. Sometimes they are humorous and others have a sting which is not readily forgotten.
I admit, on account of my size, there were times in a game when I would get in a player's way; sometimes in the spectators' way. During a Yale-Harvard game, in which I was acting as an official, the play came close to the side line, and I had taken my position directly between the players and the spectators, when some kind friend from the bleachers yelled out:
"Get off the field, how do you expect us to see the game?"