Here are a couple of little known historical facts about Penn State's
famous plain and simple football uniforms you probably didn't know.
In
1908, when numbers were first used by two college teams, Penn State
played one of those teams in the last game of the season, and for the
first time numbers appeared on Penn State's jerseys.
Fifty-three
years later, another Penn State opponent became the first team to place
names on jerseys, and in their seventh game that season, they wore those
jerseys and beat the Nittany Lions for the only time in a 37-game
series.
Penn State won that 1908 game at Pittsburgh, 12-6, and
lost the 1961 game at Maryland, 21-17, so maybe that's a good reason why
names have never appeared on Penn State's jerseys-the names are bad
luck. OK, that's a stretch, but that 1961 game ended in a controversial
Penn State pass reception in the end zone that was ruled incomplete by
an official. And to this day, the halfback who made the low diving catch
is convinced he had it.
Now, you won't find any of this
information about numbers and names in Penn State's official records.
This writer discovered it all while researching the history of Penn
State's football uniforms for a Blue White Illustrated article that
appeared in the Sept. 5, 2011, edition. However, these facts weren't
easy to obtain.
In both instances, an Internet search was
utilized and e-mails were exchanged with various parties. Pinning down
the first team to use numbers-Washington & Jefferson or Pitt-was
relatively easy compared to the difficulty in finding out about the
names on uniforms. In fact, this writer helped Pitt and Maryland prove
they were the official pioneers.
My research started with the
Internet, where I found a few sources that simply credited the first
numbers to either W&J or Pitt but without any verification. On its
website, W&J cited the opening game of the 1908 season, Sept. 19,
against Denison at home, as the first use of numbers in college
football, but there was nothing on the Pitt site. So I e-mailed E.J.
Borghetti, Pitt's associate athletic director for media relations. He
found a brief reference in his files to numbers being used in 1908 but
no specific game or date.
The search for names on uniforms was
more daunting. Finally, Hawaii popped up as an answer to a question at
one website, but there was nothing more.
Meanwhile, I also had
contacted Kent Stephens, curator at the College Football Hall of Fame in
South Bend, Ind., and sportswriter Dan Jenkins, who also is the
official historian of the National Football Foundation. Jenkins could
find nothing. Stephens also credited W&J as the first to use
numbers, but his information on the question of names was hazy. "Names
on the backs of jerseys may have started in the American Football League
in 1960," he wrote, "but for some reason I want to say either Maryland
or South Carolina was the first in college."
Stephens was right
about names on uniforms debuting in the AFL when the new league started.
It was a marketing gimmick, part of the AFL's effort to do battle with
the entrenched NFL.
With Stephens' lead, I sent e-mails to the
sports information directors at Maryland, South Carolina and Hawaii. All
three told me they had never heard of this. A few days later, Derek
Inouchi, director of media relations for Hawaii, wrote that the team's
equipment personnel did not remember when the school added names, but
old photos indicated it was 1986. Two weeks later, Maryland's Shawn
Nestor, the associate director of media relations, e-mailed me a news
clipping from the Washington Post dated Sept. 16, 1961, that was found
in the university's archives.
"Maryland Decides to Spell It Out,"
read the one-column headline buried on page 3 of the sports section.
"This season Maryland will be the first college team to have the
players' names sewn to the jersey," wrote Bryon Roberts.
Bingo!
"Before
a touring group of Atlantic Coast Conference sports writers, visiting
the Maryland practice session, Coach Tom Nugent wheeled in big end Hank
Poniatowski," Roberts wrote. "Completely garbed in football regalia, his
name was prominently displayed in 3-inch white letters above the chest.
... Nugent's innovation will have just the last names on the
uniform..."
That meant the names were on the front of the jerseys rather than the back - maybe.
This
writer needed more proof. Knowing about that 1961 Penn State game at
Maryland, I reviewed newspaper stories of the game to see if there was
any mention of the Terps wearing uniforms with names and found nothing.
Next, I looked at the Nov. 4, 1961, Byrd Stadium game day program, but
there wasn't anything there, either. I then wondered if I would find the
proof in the game film shot by the Penn State coaching staff that is
now kept in the Paterno-Pattee Library sports archives, but I had to
delay that archives visit because of other writing commitments.
Meanwhile,
just as my deadline for the first BWI uniform story was approaching, I
found proof that, yes, the University of Pittsburgh - once Penn State's
bitterest rival - had used numbers in 1908, at least in that
Thanksgiving Day game at Pittsburgh's now defunct Exposition Park. When
Borghetti couldn't find any documentation, I contacted a fraternity
brother, Ted Brown of State College, who collects Penn State
memorabilia. I asked Ted to search through his program collection and
find the earliest program he had that included numbers for Penn State
players. After a few days, he told me he had found a program from the
1908 Penn State game at Pittsburgh on November 26, 1908 that had
numbers.
Bingo!
I asked him to photocopy the program, and I
then went online to search the 1910 Penn State yearbook, LaVie. (Back
then, the section on Penn State's sports teams printed in the yearbook
was usually two years behind because of printing deadlines.) I found
the second confirmation in the photo of that 1908 Pitt-Penn State game
on page 233. The photo depicts Pitt scoring its lone touchdown. One can
see the large white numbers on the backs of five players, and although
both teams' uniforms are dark, the jerseys and pants are different
shades, confirming both Pitt and Penn State were wearing numbers.
The
program is in the shape of a football, brownish in color, 9.5 inches
long and 6.5 inches wide, with a drawing of a helmetless player running
with the ball. The roster listing the players and their number is
printed across the two inside middle pages, and the way the numbers are
listed strongly indicates Pitt had used numbers before this game, but
not Penn State.
The numbers for the 25 Pitt players are random,
with the left end wearing No. 19, the left tackle No. 24, the left guard
No. 3, the center No. 5, etc. The Penn State numbers are listed in
numerical order from left end (No.1), left tackle (No. 2) and left guard
(No. 3), etc., to right halfback (No. 10) and fullback (No. 11).
Included are eight Penn State substitutes (Nos. 12 to No. 20 with no No.
13, the back luck number).
Borghetti was excited to learn of the
LaVie photo and my fraternity brother's program. He asked for a
photocopy of the program, which I sent, jokingly telling him this may be
the first time since 1908 anyone from Penn State helped Pitt. He
promised two tickets for the next Pitt-Penn State game scheduled at
Heinz Field in 2016. Now, if Borghetti can find another 1908 program for
Pitt's opening game against Mt. Union on the same day W&J played
Dennison, he will have the documentation that Pitt and W&J were both
first to list numbers on uniforms.
Before I'd had a chance to
visit the sports archives to view the 1961 Penn State-Maryland game
film, I found another reference to Maryland's use of names on jerseys in
1961. It was just one short sentence in Sports Illustrated's College
Football Issue, dated Aug. 22. The magazine's summary of the Atlantic
Coast Conference, contains this: "In 1961, Maryland became the first
team in college football to put names on uniforms." A follow-up search
of Sports Illustrated's online archives did not reveal another mention
of that claim.
In the meantime, I did watch the 1961 game film
and did see the names of players on the Maryland jerseys - but on the
back, not the front as the Washington Post story had stated. The Terps
are wearing dark jerseys with large white numbers on the back and front
and a white stripe covering both shoulders with a dark stripe down the
middle. There is another small stripe just below the neck in the upper
part of the back that contains the names of the players. It is very
difficult to see the names in the film, which was shot from the Byrd
Stadium press box, but they certainly would be visible from most of the
grandstands and at field level.
So now I had documentation that
Maryland was indeed the first college team to use names on jerseys -
unless another team were to come forward. But that's not where this
story ends for Penn State.
Between 1917 and 1993, Penn State lost
only one game to Maryland while also tying in 1989. But the Terps
wouldn't even have this game to celebrate if an official had made a
different call.
Both teams were 4-2, with each having defeated
Syracuse. The Lions were a slight favorite, but as 34,000 spectators
looked on, including the executive director of the Gator Bowl, George
Olsen, Maryland grabbed a 21-6 halftime lead primarily on the passing
combination of quarterback Dick Shiner and Gary Collins, two of the 19
Pennsylvanians on the squad. Thanks partly to a leg injury that
sidelined Shiner for a good bit of the second half, Penn State's defense
controlled the rest of the game, and the Lions trailed 21-15 with nine
minutes left in the fourth quarter.
Then with about four minutes
remaining, Jim Schawb's interception of a Shiner pass started Penn State
on a grinding drive downfield from its own 12-yard line to the Maryland
5. Two plays lost 4 yards, but on third down, quarterback Galen Hall
passed to right halfback Hal "Junior" Powell at about the 2-yard line
near the right sideline. The game film shows Powell had beaten No. 32,
linebacker Bob Burton, but the ball was a little to his right and looked
like it might have been touched by a Maryland defender just beyond the
scrimmage line.
Powell dives toward the end zone with No. 43,
defensive back Tom Brown, closing in. You can see the outstretched
Powell, about a yard from the sideline, trying to wrap his arms around
the ball before hitting the ground, but the ball is hidden by Powell's
body. Three yards away, an official is looking right at Powell and
immediately waves no catch several times as Powell gets up holding the
ball. Powell drops the ball and turns to the official with both arms
outstretched as if to say "I caught it. Didn't you see it?" But to no
avail.
Forty years later, Powell still insists he caught the
ball. "But I really can't be so critical of the official because [the
ball] was so low," said Powell, who has been an attorney in the
Lewistown, Pa., area for decades. "I landed on the ground and I was on
my elbows and the ball landed in my hand, real, real close to the
ground. And I've never really held it against that official, because he
would not have even expected something that lucky to happen.
"I
actually ran the wrong pattern and I caught heck for that on Monday
night film night, and deservedly so. I cut it too short. So it crammed
me with another receiver [Schwab], and we allowed a defender [Brown] to
cover both of us. I also remember the ball had been tipped by a
linebacker [Burton] because it made a whomping sound. I wish the referee
would have gotten it right, but I can't blame him, because it was blind
luck on my part. I really didn't deserve it."
Hall's fourth-down
pass attempt to Powell fell incomplete, and Maryland took over, taking
an intentional safety, punting out and then stopping three last-ditch
plays at midfield to win the game. Penn State didn't lose the rest of
the season and went on to defeat Georgia Tech, 30-15, in the Gator Bowl,
while Maryland lost its last game to Virginia and didn't get a
postseason invitation.
And that ends the controversy and the
historic day when Penn State played its first game against a team that
placed names on its jerseys. Was it bad luck? Or was it double bad luck?
Coaching as a Maryland assistant that day was another young man who has
become a curse to many college football teams in the last two decades.
His name is Lee Corso, and he and the Terps had Penn State's number that
day.
(Lou Prato is a long time member of the NFF Central Pennsylvania Chapter and retired director of the Penn State All-Sports Museum.)