Michigan Overwhelmed The Boasted Maroons

Chicago Was Outclassed at Every Point in the Annual Thanksgiving Game

Michigan Fought out Contest on Chicago Territory--Chicago Only Had Chance at Ball Three Times--Heston and Graver the Stars

This morning's Chicago Tribune gives the following account of Thursday's football contest:

The premature blizzard which descended on Chicago yesterday made it anything but an ideal football day, but that driving snow storm was gentleness itself compared to what was in store for Chicago's two football elevens.

In the morning game the Carlisle Indians buried Northwestern's hopes under a score of 28 to 0, and in the afternoon Michigan exactly duplicated those figures against Chicago, its oldest and bitterest rival on the gridiron, in a game which was fifteen minutes short of regulation time. Up in Madison the Minnesota eleven defeated Wisconsin by a score of 17 to 0.

Of these three gridiron battles, the crucial one was the struggle at Marshall field between Stagg's Midway warriors and Yost's renowned scoring machine. The result wiped out Chicago's last forlorn hope to claim the western championship, while to Michigan it brought the opportunity to prove itself the best team in the country on present form, in spite of the tie game with Minnesota.

The outcome of the game at Madison complicates the situation and gives the partisans of Minnesota university the peg on which to hang a claim to the championship of the year, but there will always be many to dispute that claim.

And, all prejudice aside, no one who saw Yost's great machine plow through Chicago on that snow clad, wind swept gridiron at Marshall field will deny that he demonstrated beyond appeal that under the conditions no team in the west, at least, could have stood before it yesterday.

Twenty thousand persons braved the blizzard to see the culminating struggle of the year on Marshall field. The twenty thousand shivered and froze into silence while the men of Michigan and the men of Chicago made football history. It was in a large measure a Chicago crowd, hoping against hope that some cog in Yost's wonderful machine would break and give it an opportunity to go wild.

But, although at times Chicago strove desperately to retrieve the day and won cheers by plucky playing, the crowd never really had an opportunity to display its partisan feeling. From the time the ball was put into play until darkness put a merciful end to the battle, Chicago never had a real chance to score.

Analytically considered, Michigan probably is more than twenty-eight points better than Chicago. In every department of the game, save catching punts, Michigan showed vast superiority. Yost's machine outcharged, outgeneraled, outran, outkicked, and outpushed Stagg's.

Eckersall, on whom the hopes of Chicago were pinned, was beaten at every point, and Eckersall--Chicago's only hope for a place on an all western team--showed up only in tackling. By several great tackles he kept the score from mounting higher. He stopped Heston and he stopped Graver--who proved to be Michigan's bright particular star--and in the first half he held Michigan's score down to 22, when with a lesser man playing back Michigan would probably have run the score close up to 50. His kicking at all times was execrable, only luck preventing it from being turned into disaster.

The luck of the game, was, generally speaking, with Michigan, but the "luck" was the luck that comes from playing the game, from following the ball, and being always on the spot when the opportunity presented. Once, near the close of the first half, Chicago had a glorious opportunity to score had any one of Stagg's men been following the ball, but they were not there, and Michigan retrieved an awful fumble just before time was called.

Michigan, on the other hand, had exactly eleven men after the ball at all times, and when anything happened Michigan was there, ready to take advantage of the accident--and accidents are certain to come when a field is covered with slippery snow; when the wind is bitter cold; and when the ball feels like a forty-pound cake of ice.

In all the long struggle, marked with brilliant individual feats, there was one that stood out above all the others, and that was Heston's run near the close of the first half. Heston is Michigan's left half back. He can scarcely be referred to (on the football field) as a human being. He appears to be three parts pile driver and two parts kangaroo. He is about as susceptible to injury as a wooden Indian and he is as elusive as a car barn suspect.

Late in the first half, Heston, carefully guarded by his chum, Graver, broke around the left end of Chicago's line, going through the snowdrifts after the manner of a jackrabbit. He swung past the desperate linemen of the university and started down the field with only little Eckersall and Speik in front of him. Tom Hammond, who had been showing Eckersall how Hyde Park can be improved at Michigan, was caring for Speik.

Over near the east side of the field Eckersall threw himself at the flying Heston. At the same instant Heston leaped into the air, hurdled clear over the head of the little Chicago quarter, and kept on for thirty yards until Speik brought him to earth. The crowd, Michigan and Chicago alike, roared its applause.

The multitude began to assemble shortly after noon. A blizzard was sweeping down the Midway and the snow was piled up four inches deep on the gridiron. Yet, despite the blizzard, the thousands poured down upon Marshall field, fought their way through the narrow gates and banked themselves in the great bleachers, cheering wildly. Michigan's students, its Chicago alumni, and friends were massed in the west stands and the maroon of Chicago in the great east bleachers.

For an hour, while the snow storm raged, the rival stands fought a battle of cheers, the "Chica-go, Chica-go, Chica-go" beating down the "U. of M., rah rah, rah rahs" of the Ann Arbor partisans. At 1:30, when the game was due to begin, the storm suddenly ended and the sun broke forth for a moment.

Instantly hundreds of freshmen were impressed into service, and, with snow shovels, benches, boards, wagons, and sweepers, began the work of removing the snow from the gridiron. For an hour this work continued--the maize and blue waving defiance at the maroon and the cheer masters of both sides leading volleys of cheers.

Finally, just before 2:30 o'clock, the freshmen finished their work and the playing field was inclosed with banks of snow. At that instant, while the maroon clad bear of Chicago and the blue and maize turkey of Michigan were doing rival struts across the gridiron. Chicago rose with a roar to greet its heroes, and a moment later the west stands rose in deafening deference to the Ann Arbor players.

There was a period of comparative silence, and then, at 2:24, Ellsworth kicked off. Yost lighted a cigar, squatted down in the snow bank, and watched to see what his machine would do. Heston started with a straight plunge through Chicago's line for nearly four yards, and that plunge demonstrated that Chicago had no hope. The machine was working well, and although it struck several stumps it mowed down Chicago's line by a series of plunges. Then Graver, aided by Tom Hammond, who broke down Chicago's defense on the left, swung around the end and tore down the field for over thirty yards until Eckersall brought him down in a snowbank.

By fierce drives at Chicago's tackles Michigan carried the ball inside the five-yard line, and then began the series of penalties that to some extent marred the game. Yost lighted another cigar. Penalty after penalty was inflicted until Michigan, driven back nearly to the middle of the field, started again for the goal and by desperate rushes carried the ball over for the first touchdown 15 minutes after play started.

Gloom enshrouded the maroon stands, while the Michigan throng caged inside the wire screen went wild with joy. Yost lighted his third cigar, while Tom Hammond kicked a perfect goal.

Then Yost's machine started in again, well lubricated and working smoothly, and it beat down the defense of Chicago a few yards at a time until the ball was forced within Chicago's 25-yard line. Then Chicago took an amazing brace and actually threw back the maize and blue invaders until Michigan decided to attempt a goal from placement. Hammond kicked goal, but Chicago was offside, and Michigan, in lieu of the five points, received ten yards and by a series of short, fierce plunges, scored again.

Yost lighted his sixth cigar up and smiled blandly toward Maddock. Walter Camp made an approving note and relaxed his frown. The crowd cheered wildly.

It became apparent to Stagg, who had come to the battleground in a hack, that Michigan was playing extraordinary football. Michigan kept playing a queer kind of football. As an expert would analyze it, it was straight football with variations. Tom Hammond was doing yeoman's work, opening up holes for Heston.

Soon Michigan began to display some of its latent talent, Redden and Maddock holding the center of the stage for a time and getting a share of the laurels that Graver and Heston had been reaping. Yost lighted his . eighth cigar.

Again Michigan started ripping through Chicago's tackles and tearing around the end, until the ball was on the 25-yard line. Then Hammond was called back to try for goal. The pass was high, and Chicago's ends and backs were nearly upon him when Hammond kicked. The ball fell on the crossbar and toppled over, adding five more to Michigan's score.

Some Hyde Parker remarked that Hammond was another Eckersall. Yost lighted another cigar.

About that time luck favored Chicago. Eckersall attempted to punt, standing behind a high snowdrift. The ball was passed and he kicked up a cloud of snow just as three Michigan men plunged over the snow fortress and blocked the kick. The ball bounded in front of the line and, after two Michigan men had missed it, Schnur, who probably played the best game for the maroons, recovered and carried the ball out five yards. Eckersall kicked again, and Redden on the 24-yard line, made a fair catch. Hammond kicked a remarkable goal from a difficult angle, and the score was 22 to 0.

Time was called while Yost was lighting his twelfth cigar.

The second half started with the weather considerably colder and the spectators half frozen. There was little cheering. Chicago, with Ahlswede, Lee Maxwell, and Bezdek, proved a harder proposition, but by slow pounding, interspersed with end runs by Graver and Heston, for which Chicago's tackles were mainly responsible, Michigan scored another touchdown.

Then, near the close of the game, Chicago made its last, forlorn rally. The maroon attack improved suddenly, and Stagg's men carried the ball nearly fifty yards down the field--the longest and most consistent gain Chicago made during the afternoon. Twenty-two yards of this was an end run by Bezdek. Then Michigan braced, and, as a forlorn hope, Ellsworth was called back to try for goal from placement from the 37-yard line. The pass was high, and, although Chicago saved the ball, the last hope was gone. Soon darkness came, and the crowd departing, time was called.

Yost lighted his seventeenth cigar.

And Michigan again was crowned champion.