Dear Boo and Bubble,
From my observation, it looks like your dad is doing a very
good job turning you into football fans.
Call me your crazy MeeMaw, but I think that’s great. One of my favorite things to do, in the
entire world of things to do, is sit in your den with your dad and watch
“smashmouth” football on TV.
Granted, we’ve come a long way since 1869 when the first
“American football” game was played between Rutgers and Princeton…..a long way
since Walter Camp drew up some rules in 1880 that established the snap,
eleven-player teams and the concept of downs….a long way since leather
helmets…a long way since 1905 when 19 fatalities during the play of the game
caused President Theodore Roosevelt to threaten a ban the sport and the NCAA was
formed by 62 schools to address rule changes….a long way since John Heisman
introduced the forward pass in 1906….a long way since William “Pudge”
Heffelfinger was paid $500 to play for the Allegheny Athletic Association – the
first professional ever.
And, yes, we’ve come a long way since the mid-1930’s when
your great granddaddy Schaefer attended Furman University where one of the most
intense rivalries in football (and all other sports as well) was with another
upstate South Carolina college – Clemson.
You might gasp at the concept today because the Tigers of Clemson, with
an enrollment of 16,562 students, constantly appear in the upper echelons of NCAA
rankings for Division I schools. The
mighty Paladins of Furman, claiming slightly more than 2600 undergraduates,
compete in the less prestigious Division I-AA. But back then, the proverbial playing field
between Clemson and Furman was level and the rivalry real, filled with a
contention that Granddaddy absorbed into every bone in his body. He did not then, nor ever, have any use for
Clemson.
In 1934, Frank Howard became the football coach at
Clemson. He led the Tigers for 30
years. Over that time, he took Clemson
to 10 bowl games, had an undefeated season in 1949, and amassed the 15th most
wins of any college football coach. For
those who revered the Tigers, he became a legendary figure with his bald pate,
Fedora hat, and stocky build easily recognizable roaming the sidelines. Not so much so, however, for those who had
little love for Clemson, including Granddaddy.
Frank Howard was anathema to them.
Years later, in the mid-60’s, long after Furman and Clemson
had taken their Robert Frost-like divergent athletic paths to separate
competitive NCAA divisions, Granddaddy Schaefer maintained a successful law
practice in Greenville. He also taught
Business Law at Furman as an adjunct professor.
By then, Granddaddy had also become rather portly and lost most of his
hair to baldness.
One morning, after his class, he stopped by the Faculty
Lounge to grab a cup of coffee and check his mail. No one was in the lounge
except a janitor sweeping the floor and gathering trash. As Granddaddy poured the coffee and strolled
over to the rows of faculty mailboxes, he noticed that the janitor was staring
at him. He opened up his box and pulled
out its contents. The janitor continued
to star.
Granddaddy sorted the mail and decided to be frugal and
throw it away in the trash bag currently being held by the janitor. As he approached, the janitor’s eyes grew
wider, a look of amazement across his face.
With a little trepidation, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Ain’t you the head of them
Clemens Tigers?” the janitor asked in great wonderment.
Totally taken aback, and
probably deeply offended, Granddaddy retorted an emphatic “NO!”
He left the campus and drove
straight home to 3 Lakecrest where, bounding through the back door, he
announced to Mamaw Mary with great conviction –
“I have GOT to go on a diet,
Mary. Somebody just thought I was Frank
Howard!”
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