The Cornell game with its defeat was forgotten. We had learned our lesson. We had made a tremendous advance in two weeks. I recall so well the days before the Yale game, when we were leaving for New York en route to New Haven. We met at the Varsity field house. I will never forget how strange the boys looked in their derby hats and overcoats. It was a striking contrast to the regular everyday football costumes and campus clothes.
There were hundreds of undergraduates at the station to cheer us off. As the train pulled out the familiar strains of "Old Nassau" floated after us and we realized that the next time we would see that loyal crowd would be in the cheering section on the Princeton side at New Haven.
We went directly to the Murray Hill Hotel, where Princeton had held its headquarters for years. After luncheon Walter Christie, the trainer, took us up to Central Park. We walked about for a time and finally reached the Obelisk.
Biffy Lee, the head coach, suggested that we run through our signals. All of us doffed our overcoats and hats and, there on the expansive lawn, flanked by Cleopatra's Needle and the Metropolitan Art Museum, we ran through our signals.
We then resumed our walk and returned to the hotel for dinner. The evening was spent in the hotel parlors, where the team was entertained and had opportunity for relaxation from the mental strain that was necessarily a part of the situation. A general reception took place in the corridors, players of old days came around to see the team, to revive old memories, and cheer the men of the team on to victory.
Football writers from the daily papers mingled with the throng, and their accounts the following day reflected the optimistic spirit they encountered. The betting odds were quoted at three to one on Princeton. "Betting odds" is the way some people gauge the outcome of a football contest, but I have learned from experience, that big odds are not justified on either side in a championship game.
We were up bright and early in the morning and out for a walk before breakfast. Our team then took the ten o'clock train for New Haven. Only those who have been through the experience can appreciate the difficulty encountered in getting on board a train for New Haven on the day of a football game.
We were ushered through a side entrance, however, and were finally landed in the special cars provided for us.
On the journey there was a jolly good time. Good fellowship reigned supreme. That relieved the nervous tension. Arthur Poe and Bosey Reiter were the leading spirits in the jollification. A happier crowd never entered New Haven than the Princeton team that day. The cars pulled in on a siding near the station and everybody realized that we were at last in the town where the coveted prize was. We were after the Yale ball. "On to New Haven" had been our watchword. We were there.