Bates football first played an Ivy League school in 1895 when they lost 38–0 at Dartmouth. Actually beating an Ivy League team was basically unthinkable. In the early days of college football, the Ivy League, not the SEC, reigned supreme. It was considered a massive accomplishment to even score one touchdown, which Bates did in 1901 when they fell 16–6 to Harvard. Yes, the same Harvard that starred Oliver Cutts and went 12–0, being named the national champion that year by multiple publications.
Bates was one of just three teams to score on the 1901 Crimson, when Harry Blake, Class of 1902, returned a fumble 25 yards for a touchdown.
The Student rejoiced: “It is beyond words to express the joy which was felt when the news of the Harvard game reached Lewiston. All were confident that Bates would make a good showing, but that she should cross Harvard's goal line, that was not even thought of. But the unexpected happened and October 5th, 1901, will ever go down in the annals of Bates foot-ball as a red-letter day.”
Thirty-one years later, Bates traveled to New Haven, Conn., to take on Yale.
With the exception of the war year of 1918, Yale had won their season-opener every year since starting the sport in 1872, for a spotless record of 59-0-0. In 1932, Bates came to town for the first time in a decade, surely yet another sacrificial lamb to kick off the season. The previous five times Bates and Yale had squared off on the gridiron, the Garnet had fallen by a combined score of 175–0.
The proof that a small New England college could hang with an Ivy League power did, in fact, already exist: Morey was Middlebury’s head coach in 1923 when the “Black Panthers,” as Middlebury was then known,“defeated” national powerhouse Harvard, 6–6, before 25,000 fans in Harvard Stadium. Because of that game in 1923, and a close 16-6 loss to Harvard the next year, the Boston press called Morey “Middlebury’s Miracle Mentor,” as recalled by Karl Lindholm.
History has a way of repeating itself, as it did in New Haven in 1932. In as thrilling of a 0–0 game one can imagine, each team made goal-line stands to barely stave off the other from scoring.
According to the Student: “In the last quarter, the Yale coach in desperation, sent into the fray his lightning-fast pony backfield which succeeded in getting the ball to the Bates 2-yard line through a series of penalties and some brilliant rushing. This thrust, the only one of the game on the part of Yale, was hurled back by the wearied Bates warriors so fiercely that in the last three plays of the game their opponents lost 10 yards.”
Upon witnessing the stunning tie between Bates and Yale, the Boston Traveler wrote: “Football fans throughout the East were astounded by the result of the game and well they might be for on paper (where football games are never played), Bates had as much chance of beating or tying the Elis as your correspondent has of swimming the Pacific.”
While he wasn’t a starter on the 1932 Bobcats, a young Milton L. Lindholm ’35, who would go on to become a Bates legend as dean of admissions, played in the game.
“We arrived in New Haven on Friday morning by Pullman coach,” Lindholm recalled. “Our coach, Dave Morey, was afraid that when we walked into the Yale Bowl on Saturday, it would be an awesome occasion — the Yale Bowl could seat 80,000 people — so after our workout he suggested we go sit in the stands for 15 minutes to get used to it.
“I was next to a substitute fullback, John Dillon. He had this strange expression on his face. Then I heard him say, in sort of a stage whisper, ‘God, there’s nothing like this in Machias.’ That was funny, but he was sincere. You could have put the whole population of Machias into the Yale Bowl 20 times.”
Lindholm would later go on to captain the 1934 team before serving as admissions dean for 32 years. Lindholm and Morey became close friends, staying in touch until the latter died in 1986 at the age of 96.
Despite the tie with Yale, games against Ivy League and other larger schools were becoming a demoralizing grind. After all, the games were always on the road, no Ivy League team ever played Bates in Lewiston. And even though the Bobcats got a nice paycheck to play larger schools, the results were usually not very pretty.
One Bates fan — a future U.S. senator and secretary of state — was particularly displeased after Bates lost 79–0 to national powerhouse Holy Cross to conclude the 1935 season.
“We do not ask for a consistent winner made up of heavily subsidized athletes,” wrote Edmund Muskie ’36 in a letter to the Student. “We recognize and appreciate the limitations of our financial position. We merely ask — no more than sportsmanship demands — a fighting chance for a fighting team. Surely, no one can ask for less. Defeat under such circumstances can be glorious; but a slaughter such as last Saturday's debacle can be nothing more than pitiful.”
The 1935 schedule was especially punishing, with Morey’s men only getting two home games and being forced to play New York University in Yankee Stadium (during a rare fall that the Bronx Bombers were not playing in the World Series), Dartmouth, and the aforementioned Holy Cross. The Bates administration listened to the protests, and Bates dropped NYU from their schedule in 1936, never to play them again. Holy Cross soon followed, as the Bobcats focused on schools closer to their own size.
All things considered, the Bobcats’ 3–4–1 record in 1935 was pretty good. Stars like Maine Sports Hall of Famer Bernard "Barney" Marcus ’37 kept the Bobcats going strong, although further state championships eluded them.
Marcus earned honorable mention All-America honors from Collier’s in his senior year and will forever be listed in the Bates record books for the longest interception return in team history, a remarkable return that started in the University of Maine end zone in 1936 and was estimated at 102 yards.
In an era when professional football had less allure than it does today, Marcus turned down contract offers to play for the Philadelphia Eagles and New York Giants in favor of Harvard Dental School. In World War II, he served in the U.S. Navy, providing dentistry aboard ships in the Aleutian Islands, Okinawa, and Iwo Jima. After the war, he settled in Auburn and maintained a dental practice. He welcomed Bates football players into his home for meals, entertaining them with stories of his days on the gridiron.