One headline in the November 1, 1903, Sunday edition of the Minneapolis Tribune declared, “VICTORY, THOUGH THE SCORE IS TIED.” Further down toward the fold, it blared, “YOST AND MICHIGAN PRACTICALLY BEATEN.”
It was that fierce battle, played on Saturday, October 31, 1903, that spawned the greatest of all college football rivalry trophies. At the direction of head coach Fielding Yost, Michigan student manager Tommy Roberts purchased a simple five-gallon earthenware jug to hold the team’s water supply. Left behind in the chaotic aftermath of this epic clash, it served first as a Gopher souvenir, and later as the traveling trophy presented to the winner of the matchup since 1909.
Heading into that 1903 game, Yost’s Michigan powerhouse had won 29 straight games. The Tribune colorfully described the visiting Wolverines this way:
“Her linemen were giants on the attack, and were adamant on defense. Her backs were great battering rams, with the speed of the wind, guided by an intelligence in play almost superhuman.
Her team work was near perfection, and the eleven representatives of the maize and blue were like some powerful machine, continuously in motion.”
That last line is a direct nod to Yost’s revolutionary tendency to drastically speed up the pace of play—a relentless style that earned him his famous moniker, “Hurry-Up.”
As we know, the game ultimately ended in a 6-6 tie after the teams exchanged second-half touchdowns (which were worth 5 points each back then). Michigan struck first midway through the half when legendary Wolverine back Willie Heston found the end zone. But the Gophers answered, storming back in the final minutes to tie the score and tacking on the extra point to secure the draw.
Depending on which newspaper account you read, the game was either called with “a few seconds” remaining on the clock (Tribune) or with two minutes left to go (Detroit Free Press). Either way, thousands of ecstatic Gopher fans immediately swarmed the field to celebrate the game-tying score, bringing a chaotic end to the afternoon.
Naturally, the hometown Tribune saved its best prose for the local boys who managed to halt the Michigan juggernaut:
“When [All-American tackle Fred] Schacht made his two gains of four yards each, the [defense] of the maize and blue went to pieces. They could not stand it.
Michigan was fighting against eleven madmen, and the madmen won.”
You’ve got to love the media coverage from this era. The Tribune even included a detailed, diagrammed play chart of the 1903 game right on the front page. Once you decode the key, it’s an incredibly cool look at how football was analyzed over a century ago.
What happened next is of course the stuff of Little Brown Jug Lore.
9 Comments
Kool Breeze
Dude, it is Jug week, ramp up the posts! Let’s get crack-a-lackin!
PeterKlima
So, the field used to be 110 yards long? Does that mean old stats should be re-visited?
LarryB
I have the Minnesota Vault book that talks about this game. It also has a small replica of the game chart.
Maybe this weekend I will scan the page with a picture and email Greg.
The picture has guys who climbed up on poles to see the action.
Greg - MVictors
Would love to see that chart. They also had a play-by-play chart going back in Ann Arbor so people could follow the game.
Greg - MVictors
Yes on the field and good question on the stats but that’s the least of your concerns on statistical consistency. Scoring was different, the game clocks weren’t standardized, passing was outlawed and oh, by the way, they really didn’t bother to keep detailed records of the stats.
Greg - MVictors
On it Breeze!
Alton
That was a last-second touchdown to tie the game, despite what the Free Press said. Note from the game chart that Minnesota never even kicked off after their touchdown. I know the clock did not stop at the time, like in soccer or rugby today, but it would have been only a minute or so from the touchdown to the kickoff. I think we can safely say that Minnesota scored in the last minute, and certainly on the last play from scrimmage of the game.
As far as “revisiting the stats” are concerned, there really isn’t any need since the official NCAA records (as well as the Big Ten records and the University of Michigan records) in the various record books only start in 1937 or so. Willie Heston’s rushing yards would be off the charts, I think, if we added them up today. Those records just don’t count, though.
Which leads to a question–are there play-by-play records surviving for all of Michigan’s games from 1901 to 1905? I know that newspapers would often print play-by-plays or drive charts like the one pictured, but not for every game. It would be interesting to compile rusing statistics and print a modern box score for each of the games.
JG
That Jug is so darn cool!