December 14, 1920, 100 years ago: George Gipp dies of pneumonia, possibly related to a streptococcus infection, at St. Joseph's Hospital in South Bend, Indiana, seat of the University of Notre Dame, where he was a student. He was 25 years old.
He was born on February 18, 1895, 13 days after Babe Ruth, and 16 days after George Halas, in Laurium, on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. He went to Notre Dame hoping to play baseball. But their head coach, Knute Rockne, thought he would be a good back, both offensive and defensive, in football. Gipp had never played the sport before, but tried it anyway.
Rockne proved to be right: Gipp was named an All-American for the 1920 football season, as Notre Dame went undefeated, 9-0:
* October 2: Beat Kalamazoo College at home, 39-0. (They are now in NCAA Division III.)
* October 9: Beat Western State at home, 42-0. (Also based in Kalamazoo, they are now named Western Michigan University.)
* October 16: Beat Nebraska in Lincoln, 16-7.
* October 23: Beat Valparaiso at home, 28-3. (Valparaiso is based in the Indiana town of the same name.)
* October 30: Beat Army at West Point, 27-17.
* November 6: Beat Purdue at home, 28-0.
* November 13: Beat Indiana at Washington Park in Indianapolis, 13-10.
* November 20: Beat Northwestern in Evanston, 33-7.
* November 25, Thanksgiving Day: Beat Michigan Agricultural in East Lansing, 25-0. (Now known as Michigan State.)
Notre Dame outscored its opponents 251-44, for an average of 29-5. And Gipp was a major reason why, on both sides of the ball. There were no official National Championships in those days, but, retroactively, some sources have listed Notre Dame as such. (Other sources awarded it to Harvard or the University of California.)
So how did he get sick? Most likely, he was giving punting lessons in cold weather. Being in northeastern Indiana, the cold weather is the reason that the Notre Dame-USC game is played in October when it's the Fighting Irish's turn to host it, and on Thanksgiving Saturday when it's USC's turn to host in Los Angeles.
The more popular version, but the less likely one, is that Gipp, a known carouser, returned to campus after curfew one night, and found his residence hall locked. He went to Washington Hall, the campus' theatre building, because he knew the back door was often unlocked, and spent many post-curfew nights in the hall. This time, the door was locked, so he slept outside, and that's how he got pneumonia.
This story is believable because Gipp was a carouser. He was a gambler, a womanizer, and a drunkard. He was a cardplayer and a pool hustler. He would bet on anything. He even bet on his own team, just like Pete Rose would decades later. He also tended to not show up for classes (mandatory) or Mass (equally mandatory for a Catholic school in those days).
And the University, including Rockne himself, covered up for him. Under modern NCAA rules, Gipp might have singlehandedly gotten Notre Dame put on probation.
At any rate, there were no antibiotics available then. Had there been, he could have recovered quickly, spent a nice Christmas at home on the U.P., and played in the early National Football League and become a star, making bundles of money. He, rather than Red Grange of Illinois and the Chicago Bears a few years later, could have become the NFL's 1st real star. (Or maybe its 2nd, after Jim Thorpe, who was already playing for the Canton Bulldogs.) Alas, in those pre-antibiotic days, you really could die from something as simple as "strep throat."
He was buried in Lake View Cemetery, outside Calumet, Michigan. Laurium put up a monument to him.
On November 10, 1928, Notre Dame played Army at Yankee Stadium. A crowd of 78,188 saw the Cadets lead the Fighting Irish 6-0 at halftime. It wasn't that surprising: Army was undefeated, 6-0, while Notre Dame was only 4-2.
In his halftime pep talk, instead of discussing strategy, Rockne told his players, who would have been in junior high school in 1920, about George Gipp. As Rockne told it, he went to see Gipp on his deathbed, and Gipp told him:
I've got to go, Rock. It's all right. I'm not afraid. Some time, Rock, when the team is up against it, when things are wrong, and the breaks are beating the boys, ask them to go in there with all they've got, and win just one for the Gipper. I don't know where I'll be then, Rock. But I'll know about it, and I'll be happy.
Having told the 1928 players that story, Rockne concluded by saying, "Gentlemen, this is that game." And the players left the locker room in tears, and came from behind, and beat Army 12-6.
That's the story. But it makes no sense. First of all, why choose this game? Because it was in New York? Because it was against Army? Certainly, Rockne didn't need to be afraid of losing his job: He was already an icon in South Bend.
Second of all, they were only down by 6 points. Maybe if they needed a much bigger effort, to overcome a 2-touchdown deficit, such a speech might be warranted.
Third of all, like I said, those players were just kids when Gipp died. They never saw him play. It's not like there was television back then. The newsreels probably never showed Gipp. For all they knew, Rockne could have been lying, and Gipp could have walked into the room at that moment, and they wouldn't have recognized him. (Another coach, Edward "Slip" Madigan of St. Mary's in the San Francisco Bay Area, allegedly once tearfully told his players about his sick son, and said to win the game for him, when the son walked in, just fine.) Gipp's legend shouldn't have had any effect on the 1928 Fighting Irish.
And fourth of all, if the locker room speech did happen, Rockne probably made it up. As one sportswriter put it, decades later, If Gipp said anything to Rockne as he was dying on December 14, 1920, it was probably more along the lines of, "Put a hundred bucks on the 4 horse in tomorrow's 7th race at Arlington for me."
Rockne was killed in a plane crash near Bazaar, Kansas on March 31, 1931. So, whatever the truth of the final meeting between Gipp and Rockne was, it died with Rockne.
On October 4, 1940, the film Knute Rockne, All-American premiered. Pat O'Brien played the coach. Ronald Reagan, who had played guard at Eureka College in Illinois, now an NCAA Division III school, played Gipp, and played the speech scene straight.
Reagan as Gipp
As Reagan went into politics in the 1960s, and was elected President in 1980, he often played up his connection to Notre Dame. At the 1988 Republican Convention, at the Superdome in New Orleans, knowing he couldn't run for a 3rd term, he told the new nominee, his Vice President, George H.W. Bush (who played baseball at Yale), "Go out there, and win one for the Gipper!" Meaning himself. Bush did win the election.
As Reagan fell victim to Alzheimer's disease, and could no longer make public appearances, campaign signs reading, "WIN ONE FOR THE GIPPER" appeared at rallies for Bob Dole in 1996 and George W. Bush in 2000. Reagan died in 2004, and during Bush's re-election campaign, there were more "Gipper" signs than ever before. They still come up, every 4 years: For John McCain in 2008, for Mitt Romney in 2012, and for Donald Trump in 2016 and 2020.
Reagan's political career was built on many, many lies. The "Win one for the Gipper" story was the first. If the truth about Gipp had been widely known in 1966, when Reagan was making his 1st run for public office, for Governor of California, he might never have won an election. After all, the other movie people tended to remember him for was Bedtime for Bonzo, where he worked with a chimpanzee.
George Gipp was a real person, and he really was a great football player. But the thing everybody remembers about him almost certainly isn't true. But, like Reagan's campaign promises, Rockne's Gipper speech was a fraud -- or, as the actual Irish would say, it was blarney -- that worked very well.
No comments:
Post a Comment