football Edit

1930 Tulane 25 Georgia 0 - Part 2

This is the second part of an article on Tulane’s great 25-0 triumph over Georgia in 1930.
The Item-Tribune reported Tulane’s crushing victory on November 16, 1930, in an article written by Charles L. “Pie” Dufour:
Zimmerman, Whatley and Glover Flash In Brilliant Form
Georgia’s Defense Wrecked By Hard Fighting Tulanians
Tulane staged the most ruthless march through Georgia yesterday since General Sherman took off his walking boots back in 1865.
Tulane churned up the muddy sod of Tulane Stadium to score a crushing victory over the Georgia Bulldogs, conquerors of Yale and New York University.
The score was 25 to 0 and 25,000 fans roared to high heaven as the Green Wave swept on its way to another Southern Conference championship.
Georgia’s high-powered offense sputtered in the ooze and went out altogether under the smothering rush of green-jerseyed gamesters down in the Tulane line.
And the Georgia line that had bottled [Yale All-American] Albie Booth and corralled N.Y.U.’s smashing backs, was ripped to pieces by men of iron who plowed through the treacherous going with amazing power.
There were stars galore. Each and every Tulane man fought his heart out but there were some who, whether by the nature of their positions or the chances presented to them, stood out above the mass.
Such titans were Jerry Dalrymple and Jack Holland – match ’em in America if you can – and “Dynamite” McCance and “Preacher” Roberts and “Bobo” Bodenger.
And such were Don Zimmerman and Francis Payne, Hugh Whatley and “Wop” Glover. And Nollie Felts who quarterbacked almost the whole game in “Red” Dawson’s place and quarterbacked brilliantly.
What a victory – a breath-taking victory. A victory that is hard to put down into so many words, for one doesn’t know where to start.
Tulane made 13 first downs to Georgia’s eight and gained 270 yards to Georgia’s 102.
Tulane scored four touchdowns, as you must know, and they kicked one extra point.
Don Zimmerman made a spectacular run for 21 yards and the first touchdown in the last minute of the first half.
And “Wop” Glover dashed 23 yards for a score in the middle of the third period, cutting back off tackle magnificently and eluding clutching white arms with a burst of speed and a twist of his hips.
Francis Payne, a sophomore who became a sensation yesterday, hammered through the Georgia line for the other two touchdowns on short plunges.
Hugh Whatley didn’t score a touchdown, but his astonishing open field work accounted for the most yardage in the game and paved the way for one of the Greenie scores.
Whatley’s running over that slippery soil was amazing. He ran five times in all and his total yardage was 107 yards. The first time he carried he ball he ran 20 yards to lead to Tulane’s first touchdown.
And runs of 45 and 39 yards led up to the second and third Tulane tallies. Hugh had a field day though the field wasn’t to his liking. By himself, Hugh outgained the entire Georgia team.
Tulane’s victory was a tremendous one – certainly the greatest on the home field since “Brother” Brown led Tulane to a glorious victory over Vanderbilt, away back in October, 1924.
Georgia, fresh from stunning victories in the East and called by eastern writers “the best team ever to come out of the South,” was almost helpless at the hands of the Greenies.
Outside of one downfield drive after Tulane’s second touchdown – said drive dashing itself to bits when Tulane took the ball on downs on its own seven-yard line – Jack “The Ripper” Roberts and his mates could do nothing with the Greenie forwards.
Nollie Felts’ recourse to a quick kick time and again caught the Georgia secondary flatfooted and “Wop” Glover and Don Zimmerman got off phenomenal boots of up to 77 yards. Such tactics gained tremendous ground for Tulane and changed the tide of battle.
Dalrymple and Holland, superb all day, were whirlwinds covering the punts and time and again they “deaded” the ball deep in Georgia territory after a long kick.
The victory was all the greater for Tulane for the Greenies were minus Zimmerman the entire second half. Don pulled a ligament in his leg in scoring Tulane’s first touchdown.
And for three quarters “Red” Dawson, regular quarterback, sat on the sidelines with a wrenched knee. “Red’s” place was filled in grand fashion by Felts, whose quarterbacking was a revelation.
Georgia won the toss to start the game and Harry Mehre sent a second string team against Tulane to defend the South goal with a gale at its back. Judicious use of this gale by Sullivan, sub quarter, kept Tulane on the defensive during the entire first period.
But when, on the first play of the second period, Zimmerman stood on his 18-yard line and got off a magnificent quick kick over the Georgia goal line – a carry of 82 yards, the pendulum swung toward Tulane.
Georgia was on the defensive from that time until the closing whistle, save for a few odd moments when, hopelessly behind, they flashed an effective offense.
Minutes were few in the second period when Zimmerman tucked Chandler’s 42-yard punt under his arm and ran it back six yards to Tulane’s 44-yard line. Hugh Whatley, champing on the sidelines at Bierman’s side, tore of his sweater and rushed in.
On the first snap, the ball went to Hugh and he sold out around Captain Maffett’s end and streaked through the slush for 20 yards. It was Tulane’s ball on Georgia’s 36-yard line.
Payne, a great line plunger yesterday, crashed through for nine yards and Zimmerman got three more to put the ball on the 21-yard line. Don tried a pass to Dalrymple and it failed. Then he faded back for another one.
His eye roamed the field. Every Tulane eligible was covered. The Georgia ends and tackles were closing in on him. In a twinkling Don set his course, with a keen grasp of the situation which bespoke the brilliant mind.
He saw he could dodge Maffett and the others and he saw that his eligible receivers were ahead of him and able to clear the way. So he ran. And how he ran, slashing down the sideline.
Ahead of him was only Austin Downs, Georgia quarterback, who was waiting on the three-yard line, crouching for his tackle. Zimmerman feinted Downs out of position and then, as if the Georgia back were made of thin air, ran right over him. Over him and across the line. But he hurt himself in that run and he was helped from the field, to return no more.
Tulane missed the goal. Georgia received the kickoff and the half ended after one play. And then Georgia, conqueror or Yale and N.Y.U., trooped off the field a beaten ball club.
It came back to absorb the most severe drubbing a Bulldog team has suffered in years and to fall a victim to what people elsewhere will say was the greatest upset of the season. But it wasn’t an upset. It was the case of a great football team proving its superiority over another team called great.
The second half wasn’t very old when Tulane started a touchdown drive from its 21-yard line, where Chandler had booted the ball out of bounds. Georgia, which had been playing a tight box defense, suddenly changed its tactics, going into a “diamond” with Downs far back, expecting a quick kick.
But no quick kick came this time. Instead, there came a thunderbolt named Whatley, who tore off the left side of the Tulane line, which was crumpling the Georgia wall as if it were tissue paper, and agilely cutting back he raced to the right untouched by human hands. Downs, however, forced Hugh out of bounds on Georgia’s 34-yard line after he had run 45 yards.
Payne and Glover crashed out a first down in three plays to put the ball on Georgia’s 23-yard line and then “Wop” swung into action. Like Hugh, he broke off Tulane’s left side, swung into the clear with a powerful burst of speed, and stepped 23 yards down the right sideline for a touchdown. “Wop” missed goal, but Tulane was leading, 12 to 0.
Here came Georgia’s first and only show of offense. Downs took the kickoff and almost did what he did against Yale: get away for a touchdown. He ran through a funnel of blockers and was in the clear when Bodenger dropped him from behind at midfield.
Dickens, an offside penalty against Tulane, and Roberts made a first down to Tulane’s 38-yard line. And Dickens and Chandler ripped off another in three plays at the 27-yard line.
Two plays later it was first down on Tulane’s 14-yard line and there the Greenies held. They had shown their class. Now they were going to show their courage.
Chandler rapped at right tackle and got just a yard. Roberts pile-drived into the line and picked up two more. Downs, faking a cross buck, sneaked around left end for four yards.
It was fourth down and three to go. Downs tried a fake buck, developing into a lateral pass to Chandler, but Nollie Felts, Chandler and the ball arrived at the line of scrimmage simultaneously to Chandler’s disadvantage.
Tulane had held and Georgia fell back, beaten for true now. Just to rub it in, “Wop” Glover uncorked a 68-yard quick kick from close formation, Mr. Dalrymple “deading” the ball on Georgia’s 25-yard line as the period ended.
The last two touchdowns were rapid fire events. Chandler punted back and Tulane started from its 33-yard line. Two Georgia offsides in a row gave the Wave a first down on Tulane’s 43-yard line. A five-yard plunge by Payne and a 10-yard run by Glover put the ball into Bulldog territory.
Then Whatley took a hand in affairs again. He found his favorite opening off Georgia’s right tackle on a short side play and cutting to the right once more, steamed down the sidelines. A beautiful play by Downs, who shoved – he couldn’t tackle – Hugh out of bounds, prevented a touchdown. Whatley’s 39-yard run wound up on the one-yard line.
In two plays, Payne whacked through and it was Tulane 18 Georgia 0.
Just five plays later Tulane scored again on a now demoralized Georgia eleven.
Upton kicked off. Deep in its territory, Georgia tried to pass, and the ever alert Nollie Felts snatched from the air a toss on Georgia’s 27-yard line and stormed his way to the six-yard line where he was brought down.
Mehre rushed in four fresh men to try to stem the flow of that irresistible Green Tide. Whatley got less than a yard at center but on the next play Georgia was offsides and the ball was moved to the one-foot line.
And here Mr. Payne battered that sagging Georgia wall and Tulane’s score was 24 to 0. Just to show that they could kick goals, Tulane, through the agency of “Wop” Glover, added the extra point.
Bierman started to send in substitutes and the Greenies didn’t make any more touchdowns. Georgia, with its substitutes, ripped off three first downs in a row but the game ended on Tulane’s 40-yard line.
Meigs O. Frost wrote an article which appeared in The New Orleans States on November 16, 1930:
Tulane Crushes Georgia Before Crowd of 27,000
Scintillating Plays Abound, Line Like Wall; Backfield Fast as Lightning
Tulane’s brand stood burned deep in Georgia’s hide Saturday in New Orleans for all the world to know that the hitherto unconquered University of Georgia eleven had met its master.
And the brand of Tulane on Georgia read “25-0.”
Side by side it stood with the Tulane brand of “28-0” that the warriors of the Green Wave burned on the flanks of Georgia Tech this year, to prove in 1930 as they proved in 1929, that whatever rabid Georgians may say about the quality of Tulane’s Southern Conference championships, there can be no debate, even in Georgia itself, that Tulane is champion of Georgia.
On a wet field beneath lowering gray skies that from time to time spat rain on the crowd of 27,000, greatest in history to pack Tulane Stadium, the green-jersied eleven fighting under the colors of Olive and Blue that rose to the peak as the banner of Dixie’s football champions of 1929, out-fought, out-generalled, out-thought, out-speeded and out-gained the conquerors of Yale and New York University, hailed by the Eastern sports writers as Dixie’s greatest football machine.
Saturday night not only Tulane campus but all New Orleans rocked to the roar of hoarse cheers for Don Zimmerman, the Lake Charles lad who after a scoreless first quarter, shattered the shell of the Georgia defense with the fastest thinking and fastest broken field running ever seen on a gridiron in Dixie, and gave Tulane the first touchdown. And side by side with those cheers rocketed up cheers for little “Wop” Glover, who brought the second; for Francis Payne, who added the third and fourth, and for Glover again who kicked the point that made 25 full, soul-satisfying tallies for Tulane against the goose egg Georgia took home to Athens. And added to them were cheers for the Tulane line that outfought Georgia’s best.
Despite the clouds and the spatters of rain, it was a brilliant scene. An hour before the game started at 2:30 p.m., the long snake-like lines of men and women were pouring into the stadium. Raincoats and slickers could not dim the brilliancy of the costumes. Against the gray skies fluttered the banners of Tulane, the Stars and Stripes on the crest of the eastern bleachers, the twined red and black of Georgia and olive and blue of Tulane on the goal-posts. The brilliant uniforms of the Tulane varsity band, the white and olive and blue of the cheering sections, gleamed through the grayness. And from behind the scoreboard a mortar shot high in air great bombs that detonated aloft, exploding in dazzling bursts of stars of green and gold and blue and red.
There on the Tulane bench by the side lines sat the men of Tulane to whom each football season’s opening is a rallying cry, Peggy Flournoy, Bill Banker, Brother Brown, Johnny Menville, Ellis Henican, Ford Seeuws, Charlie Rucker, Dr. Ed Faust, Lester Lautenschlaeger, Fred Lamprecht, Ike Armstrong.
They watched Bernie Bierman, Tulane coach, and Ted Cox, line coach, as they spoke the last words to the grouped players. They looked and grinned as from the Tulane cheering section a cloud of olive and blue balloons, suddenly released, rose like a great swarm of bees and drifted away on the wind that, blowing south-southeast, became a Georgia asset when Georgia won the toss.
“My God!” said Bill Banker, twitching with eagerness, “I’d give a leg to be out there on that field in uniform!”
Last year, captain, he led Tulane to victories over Georgia and Georgia Tech in two successive weeks.
The boxes down by the sidelines were filling with notables. There was Dr. A. B. Dinwiddie, president of Tulane. There was Dr. S. V. Sanford, Dean of the University of Georgia. There were the Tulane and Georgia sponsors, banked in flowers and the colors of the two great universities.
Governor Huey P. Long of Louisiana, United States Senator-elect, was there. In the box beside him sat Congressman Frank R. Reid of Illinois, his guest. Between them sat Miss Alice Lee Grosjean, Louisiana’s first woman Secretary of State.
The bands blared. The bleachers rocked with cheers. The teams dashed out on the field, Johnny Menville’s: “Come on boys, let’s go to town!” ringing in the Tulane players’ ears.
“Tulane! Give ’em hell! Tulane! Give ’em hell!” chanted the Tulane students. Rain began to fall.
“Foots” DeColigny of Tulane kicked off. Dickens of Georgia caught the ball. Lemmon of Tulane nailed him on Georgia’s 31-yard line. And the game was on.
Up and down the field the battle swayed through a scoreless first quarter and well into a second quarter when the fastest, most superb piece of lightning-swift football thought and action in the gridiron’s history sent the Tulane stands into a delirium of ecstasy. And the hero of it was Don Zimmerman, that lad from Lake Charles, not yet 19.
Tulane had got the ball on her own 44-yard line as Chandler of Georgia punted. Don Zimmerman caught it and Catfish Smith, the great Georgia end, had brought him down with a fierce tackle. Hugh Whatley had been rushed in for Tulane. With beautiful interference by Francis Payne and Nollie Felts and Don Zimmerman, Whatley got away around left end for a 20-yard run, the longest running gain of the game to then.
Payne smashed through on a slide-tackle play on the right side of the line for nine and three-quarters yards. Zimmerman hit the same hole for a first down. Then, with the Georgia goal in sight, Zimmerman shot a pass to Jerry Dalrymple. Rushing for it, the tips of Dalrymple’s fingers barely touched the slippery ball, and the pass failed.
Tulane lined up again. “Preacher” Roberts, Tulane captain, snapped the ball to Zimmerman on a play that called for a pass. Zimmerman fell back, his eyes scanning the field ahead, the ball in his up-lifted right hand ready to hurl to Dalrymple or Holland, Tulane ends. Then in through the Tulane interference came smashing the mighty Catfish Smith and with him Rose, Georgia’s left tackle, and from the other end came driving in Captain Maffett of Georgia.
Only a few plays before, Zimmerman, about to pass, had had the ball smashed out of his hands by Catfish Smith, who leaped high to do it. Faster than the action can be told, Don Zimmerman made up his mind, lowered the ball, and as the Georgians leaped high to smash down the expected pass, ducked beneath and between them and ran like a rabbit. The bulk of the Georgia defense had shifted to the right to meet the expected pass to Dalrymple. Zimmerman cut to the left.
Like a streak of light he was through the Georgia line, through the Georgia secondary defense, and with Georgian cleated feet pounding the turf toward him, with Georgian arms and hands reaching for him, he was in the clear. Between him and the Georgia goal stood only Downs, the great little Georgia quarterback, playing safety man on defense. Downs poised for the tackle as Zimmerman sped toward him. There was a sudden shift and pivoting of Zimmerman’s flying feet. Literally he faded out of Downs’ clutching arms. And a second later he was over the goal for the first touchdown of the game, and smothered beneath a smashing mass of viciously-tackling Georgia players.
The Tulane stands were packed with maniacs. The Tulane bench was a swirl of dancing Dervishes.
“That’s the greatest piece of broken field running and the fastest thinking I ever saw!” howled Bill Banker, leaping up and down like a madman.
Thirty-seven full yards Don Zimmerman had run for that touchdown.
He was carried off the field, his arms around the shoulders of two supporting Tulane men. In that melee behind the goal posts he had been kneed in the groin. He did not play again Saturday.
But up to that scoring play, he had carried the brunt of Tulane’s attack on his sturdy shoulders, in his flying legs. And though the kick for point failed, there stood the figures on the scoreboard.
Tulane 6 Georgia 0.
That was the beginning of the end. These invincibles from Georgia, who could lick Yale in New Haven and New York University in New York city – they could be held back from scoring. More than that, they could be scored upon.
Tulane went to work. This was just one more football team, after all. Tulane had licked them a year ago. Well ––let’s go––
Tulane went. In the third quarter, after the battle had surged back and forth in midfield, Hugh Whatley, taking the ball on Tulane’s 22-yard line, slid off his own right tackle and flashed through the Georgia team for 41 yards – clear to Georgia’s 37-yard line. Downs alone, the Georgia safety man, ran him over the sidelines there and saved another touchdown. But not for long.
Francis Payne smashed through left guard for seven yards; Wop Glover dived over right guard for a yard, and Payne made four yards and a first down squarely through Mattox, famed Georgia guard.
And then it happened again. Wop Glover, tiny, black-haired, slid like a lightning bolt off his own left tackle, reversed himself in the midst of Georgia’s secondary defense, wriggled and shook off half-a-dozen smashing tackles, and raced down the field 23 yards for a second touchdown. Tulane went mad again. Nobody minded when the kick for point failed.
And the third quarter ended with Georgia at the goose-egg end of a 12-0 score.
It was in the last quarter that Georgia’s most vicious fighting could not save the Bulldogs from the humiliation of a crushing defeat.
Tulane’s ends, Dalrymple and Holland, were outplaying Captain Maffett and Catfish Smith of Georgia, and Dalrymple was playing an all-American game if ever it was played by a man in cleated shoes. Tulane’s line was outcharging the Georgia forwards. Tulane’s backs, handling a ball so slippery the referee had to wipe it with a towel repeatedly, were making greater gains by straight football smashing through Georgia’s guards and sliding off tackle, than they had any right to make if Georgia was half the team her partisans have said.
The Georgians were desperate. From the Tulane bench where this reporter sat, repeated roughing could be seen plainly.
But that Tulane team was out for victory, and you had to kill them to stop them. Down the field they smashed their way, ignoring passes, using straight football. First down. Starting from their own 32-yard line, the Green Wave gathered force. Whatley and Payne and Glover, and Payne again. And then Hugh Whatley, pale of face, frail-looking beside those Georgia huskies, flashed off his own left tackle, cut back in the midst of the Georgia secondary, and sprinted forty yards toward the Georgia goal. Downs, the Georgia safety, with a flying tackle, hurled him out of bounds on Georgia’s one-yard line.
And Francis Payne of Tulane on the next play smashed the ball over through Mattox, Georgia’s left guard, through whom Scafide of Tulane tore a hole in which you could drive a truck.
Again nobody cared when Wop Glover missed the kick for point.
The game was almost over. The score was Tulane 18 Georgia 0.
Make no mistake about it, Georgia didn’t quit. They sent in Waugh, the lad who last year grabbed a Tulane pass and raced for a touchdown in a vain effort to stem a Tulane victory march. But the way Tulane was playing then, the Georgia coach could have sent in the Notre Dame squad and thrown in Yale for good measure.
It was inspired, fighting, unconquerable football Tulane was playing. Georgia went down before it – and stayed down.
Tulane’s victory march was on. Nothing from Georgia could deny it. Rapier-like speed in lancing thrusts around ends, sliding off tackle. Pile-driver punch in the pounding and smashing through the line. Zig-zag dazzlement in running a broken field. Courage – guts – determination – all those qualities on which Georgians pride themselves that Georgia team had – but Tulane had them all, and had more of them. More strength. More speed. Greater accuracy.
And so Francis Payne crashed his way through his own right guard for the fourth and last touchdown. And Wop Glover, a grin on his bruised and mud-smeared face, this time kicked the goal.
There stood the score: Tulane 25 Georgia 0.
There it stayed while the teams, filled with substitutes now, battled up and down the field and the air was filled with a haze of desperate Georgia passes.
The Tulane band began to play: “Glory, Glory to Old Tulane!”
The ranks of students in the bleachers stood up and sang it ecstatically.
It was a day of glory to Old Tulane. In fair and open fight without a fluke or a “lucky break” to sway the issue, Tulane had licked the greatest team Georgia ever put out. Tulane had rendered ashes and dust the Georgia hope for the Rose Bowl game at Pasadena. Tulane had licked the conquerors of Yale and New York University.
What wonder they made the air shiver with their cheers for Captain “Preacher” Roberts, for Jerry Dalrymple, for Elmer McCance, for Hugh Whatley, for Wop Glover, as they came out of the game they had won, scarred and plastered with mud, and in from the sidelines went substitutes eager for a bite at Georgia Bulldog meat.
“Glory, Glory to Old Tulane!”
Into the midst of it burst an incoherent roar of human voices. It wasn’t organized cheering. It was a spontaneous uproar of human hearts happy in victory. The game was over.
But years will pass before one can say “It is over” of the memory of the two successive years of 1929 and 1930 when Tulane met face to face Georgia Tech and the University of Georgia and licked them both.
“Coasting to a championship” is the way the Atlanta sports writers had described Tulane’s schedule. Well, Tulane coasted through the best Georgia could put in a football uniform – and coasted through it as if it wasn’t there.