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>> equipment managers. Spider's successor will be only the 11th man to fill that role. Think about this for a moment. I've been around Penn State football for nearly 60 years as a journalist and fan and even I didn't realize this factual rari- ty until Spider's announcement. Al- though I had published a list of the equipment managers in the appendix of my 1998 book, The Penn State Football Encyclopedia, I had overlooked the comparison between the number of head coaches and the equipment managers. Spider's retirement piqued my curiosi- ty about his predecessors. I was familiar with the two men who preceded Spider – John Nolan and Tim Shope – as well as two who were there in the late 1950s when I was an undergraduate: Oscar Buchenhorst and Mel Franks. However, I did not know the specific years they were in charge, except for Shope, who retired after the 2001 season. My research took me through the offi- cial athletic records, The Daily Colle- gian, the school yearbook, LaVie, and the Internet. Historian Ridge Riley's 1977 book, "Road to Number One," was the starting place, but his information was limited. Media guides, first pro- duced in the early 1960s, also were help- ful. I soon learned that the historical records are not clear about the position or the men who held the job. The title "head equipment manager" did not be- come permanent until the 1940s, and some of the individuals over the decades were referred to as "stockroom atten- dants," since the stockroom of any ath- letic building was where the equipment was stored. As Riley pointed out, in the early days of Penn State football, the players were responsible for their own equipment. Then, from about 1900 until 1919, "the graduate manager's office [which super- vised the athletic department] was re- sponsible for football equipment and other athletic paraphernalia, cared for by the undergraduate managers [of each sports team]." Riley identifies Ollie DeVictor as the first head equipment manager in 1919. Hugo Bezdek, who had been hired the previous year as athletic director and head football coach, knew from his own experience as head coach at Oregon and Arkansas and baseball manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates that the equipment had to be a priority. So he brought in De- Victor to take charge of all athletic de- partment equipment. However, DeVictor did not have an of- ficial title. A small item in the 1920 edi- tion of LaVie, which includes a photo of DeVictor, referred to him was "propri- etor of the stockroom." That was only one of DeVictor's responsibilities as the individual in charge of the Track House, the multipurpose building that served as a residential hall, clubhouse and locker room for most athletes from 1903-24. "He is the general guardian of the Track House, preserver of college peace, information bureau for all aspiring ath- letes," the LaVie author wrote. "In spite of all his cares and duties, Ollie always had a cheery smile for everyone, and is loved by all who know him." Now, that sounds almost like Ollie De- Victor's modern counterpart, Spider Caldwell. Aside from that small mention in LaVie, the only other local reference to DeVictor that I found was in Riley's book, which stated that he "soon left to take the same job at Pitt." However, an Internet inquiry led me to the National Athletic Trainers Hall of Fame and the discovery that one Oliver J. DeVictor was inducted in 1962, four years after his retirement following 23 years of service at the University of Mis- souri. His Hall of Fame page claims he also was a trainer at Penn State, Pitt and Washington-St. Louis. More than likely, DeVictor performed some training du- ties for Penn State's athletes but C.W. "Bill" Martin was then the school's offi- cial trainer. Apparently, DeVictor went to Pitt after the 1920 season. There's no doubt that A.P. "Dean" Burrell succeeded DeVictor, but, in a certain way, Burrell, also pre- ceded DeVictor. Riley wrote that the athletes living in the Track House actually hired a young Burrell sometime around 1911-12 as a full-time janitor and stockroom atten- dant. Prior to that, a few scholarship players were paid to keep the building and equipment clean, but when that arrangement proved to be impractical, Burrell was hired. The athletes even gave him his academic nickname, "Dean," because, ostensibly, he was in charge of the Track House. As Riley wrote, "He came by his title because of his authoritative supervision of the res- idents, and as the dispenser of 'Burrell's Secret Formula Rubbing Liniment' from the training quarters adjacent to the dressing room." What Burrell did while DeVictor was on site is not known. What is certain is that in 1923, Burrell formally became "caretaker of athletic equipment." A long article in the March 12, 1931, edition of a semiweekly student news- paper describes an elaborate ceremony in May 1923 in which the Track House athletes – led by All-America guard Joe Bedenk, captain of the 1922 team, and center Newsh Bentz, captain of the 1921 team – formally "conferred title of 'Dean' on Burrell… the well-known stack-keeper of athletic equipment in the varsity locker room." Little more is known about Burrell ex- cept that he continued as "caretaker of athletic equipment" until 1941. Assum- ing that the "Dean" also did the job in the first two years after DeVictor's de- parture and that he was the stockroom attendant for seven or eight years prior to DeVictor, A. P. Burrell may have the unofficial record for the longest tenure as Penn State's head equipment manag- er. That would give him 29 years, five more than Tim Shope. Yes, it is a confused history. Better known are the names and tenures of the seven men who followed the "Dean," at least from my research. Oscar Buchenhorst may have been the first person to be formally named foot- ball's head equipment manager. He served from 1942 through '57, and was

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