Heff has always said that he enjoyed the English game, but whether the
brand he played was American or English, his opponent usually got
little enjoyment out of a hard afternoon with this fine Princeton
athlete.

"In the late summer of 1903, I was on a train coming east from Montana,"
Heff tells me, "after a summer spent in the Rockies. A companion
recognized among the passengers Doc Hillebrand, who was coming East from
his ranch to coach the Princeton team. This companion who was still a
Lawrenceville schoolboy, had the nerve to brace Hillebrand and tell him
in my presence that I was going to enter Princeton that fall and that I
was a star football player. You can imagine what Doc thought, and how I
felt. However, Doc was kind enough to tell me to report for practice and
to recognize me when I appeared on the field several weeks later. I soon
drifted over to the freshman field and I want to admit here what caused
me to do so. It was nothing more nor less than the size of Jim Cooney's
legs. Jim was a classmate of mine whom I first saw on the football field
when he and another tackle candidate were engaged in that delicate
pastime known to linemen as breaking through. I realized at once that,
if Jim and I were ever put up against one another, I would stand about
as much chance of shoving him back as I would if I tried to push a steam
roller. So I went over to the freshman field, where Howard Henry was
coaching at the time. He was sending ends down the field and I remember
being thrilled, after beating a certain bunch of them, at hearing him
say: 'You in the brown jersey, come over here in the first squad.'

"DeWitt's team beat Cornell 44-0. For years there hung on the walls of
the Osborn Club at Princeton a splendid action picture of Dana Kafer
making one of the touchdowns in that game. It was a mass on tackle play,
and Jim Cooney was getting his Cornell opponent out of the way for Kafer