Editor’s Note: The story below is a republished piece from 1935, when then-sports editor Don Shea decided to write a poem about Syracuse’s scoreless tie with Maryland.

A Sporting Day With Don Shea
(Old Post Laureate Shea just couldn’t keep his esthetic nature in restraint while the loudspeaker blared off the 0-0 tie, Robert Frost please copy.)

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With the field a rice plantation, and neither team a conflagration, Old Bill Orange and the Liners did their stuff. There were kicks and some line bucking, but for the most part it was mucking, and neither team appeared to have enough. Bucky Buckwaldt tried a kick when we were wondering why not Vannie then, and at the end both coaches looked so wry. Yes so wry. Cause both wanted that ball game, just to keep a good coach name, but it all turned out so tame, with both teams scoring just the same. Or lack of same.

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But the grid-marsh told the story and sapped all the glory, which should have fallen to the men of Piety Hill. Each back could use a dory, in that slipping, cozy, gory, mass of mud which didn’t even yield a thrill. Not a thrill. Nor a victory for Old Bill. Not for Bill in all that rain, which to Hanson was a pain, came a chance for Ray to tows that gooey ball. That was all. Gooey ball was the all to our fall.

***

To Big Jontos goes the back slap. He made Guckeyson’s ears flay every time he heaved his body in the maw. And the Orioles will all sing, for the legislature to bring, a “Beware of Jontos” enactment—as a law. Even Meehan had to cling to Jontos as the best guard ever saw. (You’ll have to pardon the poor grammar, but that’s the only word fits in there.)

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But it fell to Jimmy Nolan to send the ball arollin’ every time our backs were pressed against the goal. Good Old Jimmy at his pleasure, using line stripes as a measure, got off a pretty boot with lots of roll. Lots of roll. For a Maryland toll. So he finished in the limelight, even tho he was a muddy slight, and the presses all this morn his kicks extoll.

***
Now we’ll talk about the broadcast, which we hope will be the very last to send this campus flying to the skies. It was “hi ya wife and John” or “hello Betty,” on and on. Why we didn’t even know who kicked that field goal try. Now it shouldn’t be that way, when the lads go ‘way and play, and we wonder when the school will be fair. Take the air on the square. We were fooled once, and twice, and we took it very nice. But this Turkey Day was thrice. Are we men or are we mice?

***
Now a word for Stanton Hemingway, who a real type of game did play, after Guckeyson smashed that hole for gain and gain. The big six footed blonde, of whom no coach seems so over-fond, was the answer to a coach’s prayer in all that rain. He plugged up that big gap, and was glad to take the rap, just to show the laddies that he was the real McCoy. His tackles were all clean, and tho he wasn’t mean, he showed up as a tough and rugged boy. Rugged Boy.

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But, stop, it fell to the black haired Touchton, who’s supposed to be the blocking one, to really steal the show all afternoon. He sneaked the ball for several yards, which was not stacked into the cards, and grabbed a blocked punt like old Oscar F. Larfoon. (There never was an Oscar F. Larfoon, folks, but it fits in here perfectly. You don’t mind, do you?) His blocking was all up to par, and there was only that pass to mar, the clean slate of a perfect afternoon. But wait, don’t blame him yet. You know yourself the ball was wet. So next year he might be our major bet.

***
Two men fought their last Thursday, George and Ed went out the way, that real fighters like to end their job. They were fighters thru and thru, and, as you already knew, they’re the kind of men who click with every mob. Be it football, squash or chess, they are never colorless, have all the characteristics of the champ. Of the champ. So a final tribute due, before this fine grid pair is thru, we’ll label them the kings of our grid camp.

***

Which leaves nine men on the team which to Hanson brings a gleam, of the days when Nevins etc. bore the brunt. Jumping Joe and Walt Rekstis, Touchton, Nolan and Isseks, should all be here next fall, way out in front. Reckmack, Webster, Novotny, and of course Bucking Albanese, will still be back to keep up Vic’s ground gaining wars. So the one thing left to do, before all this tripe is thru, is to pray their heads will get no larger than the scores.

Published on September 19, 2014 at 12:40 am