Over in Harvard's Lamont Library, a few feet from a photographic exhibition which includes Bob Cochran's game-winning catch against Yale, is a small, blue book entitled "The Dacay of Buildogism." In this, the 25th anniversary of its publication, the year that the Yale News suspends Saturday's a review of George Frederick Gundelfinger's polemic against Yale football is only slightly more inappropriate than usual. This book is not published by the Yale University Press.
It is published instead by Gundelfinger himself, a long-time critic of Yale's morals and politics, and it is levelled against what the Yale alumnus and former teaching fellow considered the barbaric evils of Yale football in the Twenties and Eli's vicious desire to win.
The book is divided into three part: "Why the Bulldog is Losing His Grip," "Has the Bulldog Ragained His Grip" (and apparently he hadn't), and "The Decay of Bulldogism." Bulldogism, it seems, is a sort of Yale nationalistic spirit.
Nothing symbolizes Gundelfinger's attack upon the Yale spirit so clearly as a letter he wrote football coach Tad Jones one fall:
"I read what you had to say at the greatest of rallies: 'I am coming before you not as a coach, but as a Yale man. The team that takes the field Saturday will fight to its last ounce of strength for you because they are Yale men and you are Yale men. Yale expects victory, demands victory--demands that every man give his whole to Yale.
To this, Gundelfinger replies: "I thought this Deutschland-uber-alles rot had been squelched after a World War. It certainly is disgusting to find Prussianism lifting its ugly head under the guise of 'loyalty' to one's Alma Mater whose students are educated men and not harbarians.
Gundelfinger, who fired a constant stream of his books and pamphlets at almost anyone concerned or connected with Eastern football, often received replies as unusual as his articles. The following letter is dated October 8, 1923:
"Dear Sir,
"Although you didn't know it, your postcard advertising "Why the Buildog is Losing His grip came to the right place at exactly the right time. If your book is coming out in November, the very height of the football season when Harvard meets Yale, there is an enormous field open. The Harvard Lampoon has a large sale at the Yale game and before the game and during the halftime intermission the contents of the magazine, ads and all, are eagerly devoured by enthusiastic football fans. An ad extolling your book would create a sensation which could be equalled only by a 90-yard run. Enclosed is the Lampoon's rate card and schedule of publication dates with the Yale number underscored. We hope to hear form you."
They did. "We do not feel so certain as you do," he replied, "That our ad will be eagerly devoured by enthusiastic football fans and that it will create a sensation which would be equalled only by a 90-yard run."
Not content with attacks upon the spirit of the day, Gundelfinger also assaulted the spirits in a section entitled "The 18th Amendment and Football," "Surely form the Elevens of our several hundred colleges we could select at least one Eleven whose each and every member would be a teetotaler, and one whose each and every member uses booze and lots of it."
But despite this surprising show of disloyalty the Yale students called to turn their handkerchiefs on Gundelfinger in 1924 Yale staged a convention to pick a presidential nominee--and Gundelfinger was high on the list of early candidates.
Read more in News
One Down...