Kicking as an Offensive Weapon.

Kicking bears the same relation to football that artillery does to warfare, with the exception that it is possible in football to deliver the final stroke with kicking. What the use of artillery in modern warfare will mean in the end remains to be seen, but the comparison is made in the light of past experience. There is in kicking a unanimity of opinion not to be found in the forward pass. Kicking is not the "joker" that the forward pass is, for the reason that certain of its principles seem to be widely understood. It is the bulwark of defence, and ever since the onside kick has been legislated out of business, it is a valuable offensive weapon. It may be made a "joker."

I think defensive kicking was never done any better than last year by Law, of Princeton, just as I think there never has been any better attacking kicker than Haughton, of Harvard, and his pupils.

Scoring kicking, of course, is done only from the ground--both the placement kick and the drop-kick being made in this way--and need not be considered in extense in a treatment of the general use of the kicking game. Punting is the thing, in that it makes openings for the running game, or retrieves blunders made by the running game.

Yale Credited With New Idea.

It was Yale, I think, that first conceived the idea of punting when punting was not to be expected. The original idea was not merely to avoid waste, but to disconcert the enemy. Under the old rules, and fitted with a running team of great power, Yale did not resort to kicking except on the last down. But since Yale used to pursue the policy of building the defence first, it became necessary to lay especial stress on the kicking game. It was natural that the Elis, accustomed to using the kicking game throughout the early season, should be the first to see more in it than appeared on the surface. It was an easy step from the theory of kicking on first down in one's own territory, to "mixing it" in two downs. Princeton and Harvard men doubtless will dispute this, but I know there is good reason to believe that Yale was the pathfinder.

The map of a football game is changed nowadays less by running than by kicking. Even the inventors of the most deadly plays will admit that, I think. Gordon Brown's Yale eleven did not kick because it did not need to, nor did Warner's Carlisle eleven last year in the game against Dartmouth. It would be a mistake to suppose, however, that these two teams were not equipped with a first class kicking game. Brown's Yale team was irresistible, just as was Warner's on its big day. I doubt, however, whether either coaching system would think the less of kicking today.

It took a long time to discover Yale's kicking methods, but in the end they were turned to account by the Blue's opponents. Both Princeton and Harvard took them up and experimented to such an extent that the Elis no longer enjoy the advantage they once had. It became no longer advantageous to punt even on mixed downs, merely for distance, and from a safe formation.

The idea was to "boot the ball at the other fellow" from close under the line, and from a formation that might mean a run as well as a kick. Harlan of Princeton, Mitchell of Yale, Wyckoff of Cornell, and Carl Williams of Pennsylvania, were experts at this.

But I think that really well placed and deadly punting of the most useful variety may take its date from the Harvard-Yale game of 1898, when Haughton was dropped back from tackle to do the kicking in a driving rain, and with a wet football--and anyone who has handled a wet football would be an easy winner in a greased pig contest--Haughton kicked to spots that could have been covered with the skin of gooseberry had they not already been covered by crimson jerseys. It was probably the finest piece of all round punting in the history of the game. To be sure, Harvard had a great running game, but even under the old rules, the running game was put in striking position by that deadly, certain punting.

Punting Not Drop-Kicking.

The man who did that particular bit of punting has since been able to gain the whip hand over both Yale and Princeton through his pupils. He has done wonders with his running game, his drop kickers--notably Brickley--have achieved reputations, and there is a sound basis for everything he does; but it is curious that football men in general, and the coaches who face his team in particular, do not seem to realize that to beat Harvard and Haughton it is necessary to consider Harvard and Haughton's vital, and to my mind correct, principle--which is not drop kicking or placement kicking, but punting.

The cloud thrown out by the Harvard system under Haughton is its much and carelessly criticized conservatism. It makes opponents think what the Harvard system wants them to think. Part of this system also has been the knitting together of loose strands that have always been woven through Harvard football. The rest of the system is familiar to men who have played under Haughton. But the keystone of the system is punting. And the keystone, better judges than I believe to be right.

Wherever Haughton or his men set their foot, there will be punting. And there will be punting until the rules are changed, for with rare exception, in matches of the first importance, the running game will not decide the issue. The theory of the punting game takes little account of the early encounters with teams so weak that they may be beaten without it. It is concerned with only one thing--the game one must win.

This is one thing, I think, that has puzzled many supporters of Western teams and has been troublesome, too, in the East. It is no "joker" unless it is permitted to be. Yale, Princeton, Cornell, and other elevens have permitted it to be a "joker", too often for their own comfort.

(Herbert Reed in Harper's Weekly)