Dick Friedman - The Coach Who Strangled the Bulldog

The Coach Who Strangled the Bulldog

How Harvard's Percy Haughton
Beat Yale and Reinvented Football

Dick Friedman

ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD

Lanham Boulder New York London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Friedman, Dick, 1951- author.

Title: The coach who strangled the bulldog : how Harvard's Percy Haughton beat Yale and reinvented football / Dick Friedman.

Description: Lanham, Maryland : Rowman & Littlefield, [2018] | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2017051790 (print) | LCCN 2018005569 (ebook) | ISBN 9781538107553 (electronic) | ISBN 9781538107546 (hardcover : alk. paper)

Subjects: LCSH: Haughton, Percy D. (Percy Duncan), 1876-1924. | Football coachesUnited StatesBiography. | College sportsUnited StatesHistory. | Sports rivalriesUnited States. | Harvard UniversityFootballHistory. | Yale UniversityFootballHistory.

Classification: LCC GV939.H463 (ebook) | LCC GV939.H463 F75 2018 (print) | DDC 796.332092 [B] dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017051790

TM The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

Printed in the United States of America

As with a winning football team, a completed book is a tribute to the efforts of a full and varied squad, and The Coach Who Strangled the Bulldog is no exception.

Some of the credit (or blame) for this project must go to my friend and former Sports Illustrated colleague David Sabino, who now is with ESPN. In 2009, as an editor at SI, I was working on the section of the SI College Football Book dealing with the 1910s, when David handed in copy that included the entry, Harvard won three national championships under Percy Haughton, who went 7175 during his time in Cambridge. My God, I thoughtIve known this my entire life! And Ive walked into the stadium past the frieze honoring Haughton a million times! After determining that there was, amazingly, no work devoted exclusively to the Haughton era, I embarked on my research.

During the ensuing years, Bob Scalise, the John D. Nichols 53 Family Director of Athletics at Harvard, and his staff were generous with their cooperation. I wore out with my requests three Harvard sports information directors: John Veneziano, Kurt Svoboda, and Tim Williamson, plus Tims superbly efficient staffer, Alli Miller Fossner. Its a measure of their unfailing good cheer that these relationships remain stronger than ever. Jalen Manning, historical research intern for Harvard athletic communications, chipped in with some late photo help.

At Harvard Magazine, Craig Lambert had the notion that I might want to replace John T. Bethell as Crimson football correspondent when John decided to step away from the press box in 2014. (Truth to tell, no one really could replace the immortal Cleat.) Aside from being my editor for my rookie season, Craig became an advisor and unfailing advocate for this book. For that, and for his friendship, I am most grateful.

I cannot thank enough Harry R. Lewis, Gordon McKay Professor of Computer Science, and Marlyn McGrath, director of admissions, for championing this project in its early stages and opening many doors for me, particularly those in Harvards Widener Library. I benefited greatly from Harrys keen insights about not only Harvard sports, but also college football and its putative amateurism in its formative years.

John P. Reardon, Harvards former director of athletics and dean of admissions (among other posts in his legendary career), provided vital encouragement. At the Harvard Varsity Club, executive director Bob Glatz and Andrew Chesebro, assistant director of marketing and communications, were ever-gracious in their assistance.

If I had to name a MVP, it would be Barbara Meloni, public services archivist at the Harvard University Archives. For seven years, off and on, Barbara and her efficient colleagues proved unfailingly patient in guiding through the musty past a rusty old grad who hadnt pursued academic-style research in four decades.

When I was still at SI, then-managing editor Terry McDonell granted me book leave so I could fully launch the project. Executive editor David Bauer (a Dartmouth guy) read some early pages and had many sharp and vital suggestions.

Two former colleagues, Peter Castro of People and Kevin Cook of SI, saw early versions of the manuscript and never stopped believing in it. A prolific author (he wrote the classic golf book Tommys Honor), Kevin saw the possibilities from the get-go and took each of my rejections personallyall while urging me not to give up. I owe you, sir.

There were many acquaintancessome who barely knew mewho responded to my requests for advice in navigating the shoals of the publishing industry. Among them were the late Ray Robinson, ever a stalwart cheerleader; Kate Buford, author of splendid Jim Thorpe and Burt Lancaster biographies (its only practice, Kate); Farley Chase; and Elisa Petrini. Although not my agent, friend-of-a-friend Rafe Sagalyn provided crucial suggestions that helped sharpen the proposal and push it over the goal line.

Several relatives of the men about whom I wrote not only took the time to answer my questions as best they could, but also, in some cases, opened their homes to me. Foremost was Alison Hildreth, granddaughter of Percy Haughton, who put me up (and put up with me) in her lovely Maine home one fall weekend. Over coffee, Ralph and Mary Toran eagerly provided material about Marys father, Eddie Mahan. Hardwick Simmons took me to lunch and filled me in on his grandfather, Tack Hardwick. Gertrude Burr and Julia Herron-Moore corroborated information about Gertrudes father and Julias grandfather, Wally Trumbull. A batch of BrickleysAndrew, Bertha, John, and Matthelped me out concerning their famous forebear Charlie.

It was a serendipitous day when I called the College Football Hall of Fame to inquire whether Charlie Brickley ever had been nominated for membershiponly to find out that a Hall of Famer named Dwayne Nix had beaten me to the punch by a few hours. At this writing, Dwayne (whom I have yet to meet in person) and I have not succeeded in our goal to get Charlie enshrined, but we have built a cherished e-mail bond, all the more delightful for being so unexpected. Thank you, sir.

My good friends at the Ivy Leagueexecutive director Robin Harris, associate executive director Scottie Rodgers, and assistant executive director Trevor Rutledge-Leverenzpermitted me to rummage through their office at the beginning of my research. At the National Collegiate Athletic Association, my former