At the same time the Yale stand was cheering its side and urging the Blue players to rally. McBride, the Yale captain, was rousing his men with the Yale spirit, and they realized what was demanded of them. The effect became evident. It showed how Yale could rise to an occasion. We felt that the old bull-dog spirit of Yale was after us—as strong as ever.
How wonderfully well McBride, the Yale captain, kicked that day! What a power he was on defence! I saw him do some wonderful work. It was after one of his long punts, which, with the wind in his favor, went about seventy yards, that Princeton caught the ball on the ten-yard line.
Wheeler dropped back to kick. The Yale line men were on their toes ready to break through and block the kick. The Yale stand was cheering them on. Stillman was the first man through. It seemed as if he were off-side. Wheeler delayed his kick, expecting that an off-side penalty would be given. When he did kick, it was too late, the ball was blocked and McBride fell on it behind the goal line, scoring a touchdown for Yale, and making the score 6 to 5 in favor of Princeton.
Believe me, the Yale spirit was running high. The men were playing like demons. Here was a team that was considered a defeated team before the game. Here were eleven men who had risen to the occasion and who were slowly, but surely, getting the best of the argument.
Gloom hung heavy over the Princeton stand. Defeat seemed inevitable. Of eleven players who started in the game on the Princeton side, eight had been incapacitated by injuries of one kind or another. Doc Hillebrand, the ever-reliable, All-American tackle, had been compelled to leave the game with a broken collar-bone just before McBride made his touchdown.
I remember well the play in which he was injured and I have resurrected a photograph that was snapped of the game at the moment that he was lying on the ground, knocked out.
Bummie Booth, who had stood the strain of the contest wonderfully well, and had played a grand game against Hale, gave way to Horace Bannard, brother of Bill Bannard, the famous Princeton halfback of '98.
It was no wonder that Princeton was downcast when McBride scored the touchdown and the goal was about to be kicked.
Just then I saw a man in football togs come out from the side lines wearing a blue visor cap. He was to kick for the goal. It was an unusual spectacle on a football field. I rushed up to the referee, Ed Wrightington of Harvard, and called his attention to the man with the cap. I asked if that man was in the game.