Marooons In Memoriam

From the front page of September 24, 1940 edition of the Michigan Daily, announcing the demise of the once-great University of Chicago football program: So why did one of the original members of the Big Ten, who brought us the heralded Coach Amos Alonzo Stagg (and Fritz Crisler, for that matter), ditch football? This issue of Sports Illustrated from 1954 put it nicely: The University of Chicago abandoned intercollegiate football in 1939 because the game hampered the university’s efforts to become the kind of institution it aspired to be. The university believed that it should devote itself to education, research and scholarship. Intercollegiate football has little to-do with any of these things and an institution that is to do well in them will have to concentrate upon them and rid itself of irrelevancies, no matter how attractive or profitable. Football has no place in the kind of institution Chicago aspires to be. It has been argued that Chicago is different. Perhaps it is and maybe it is just that difference that enabled the university to separate football from education. That’s sweet and all, but methinks the 85-0 beating at the hands of Tom Harmon’s Wolverines in 1939 had a hand in it as well. Here’s one of my favorite all-time photos featuring Tom Harmon cooling off on the sidelines during…

I always like to check out the old letters that pop up on eBay for stuff just like this. Back in 1962 athletic director Fritz Crisler submitted a story to Reader’s Digest on his college coach and mentor, Chicago legend Amos Alonzo Stagg. [As an aside, there’s a copy of the story at the Bentley Library in Crisler’s archives and I plan to check it out.] Fritz clearly had a deep admiration for his former coach. Heck, Sports Illustrated, in its wonderful 1964 piece on Crisler ‘The Man Who Changed Football’ even suggested the ‘1’ in the Michigan Stadium attendance might actually be reserved for Stagg!: It was his secret. But anyone is entitled to guess, and one guess might be that somewhere in that vast stadium there is this one seat, and perhaps it is never sold. Perhaps it is reserved, now and forever, for someone who taught Fritz Crisler a way of coaching football and a way of life. For the Old Man, Amos Alonzo Stagg. So coupling Crisler’s demeanor, his air-tight professionalism, and his admiration for his mentor I’m guessing Fritz put a lot of thought into the words he chose for this story for Reader’s Digest. So what could go wrong? Well thanks to Mr. Myron Green of Worcester, Mass, we know that Crisler was none-too-happy…