James Nippert was not supposed to play football in 1923.

"Jimmy," as everyone knew him, retired from the sport after his junior season to focus on the final year of his law studies. Yet by October of the 1923 season, the Bearcats were floundering, and head coach George McLaren determined that Louis Nippert––Jimmy's younger brother––was "not quite ready" to replace Jimmy at center.

The Bearcats needed a proven, veteran presence in the middle of their offensive line, so with a year of eligibility remaining, they called upon Jimmy, and he answered. On October 20th, 1923, Nippert started the first game of his senior season.

The team had started 1-2 that year, then Jimmy stepped in and led his Bearcats to a 13-6 victory against Ohio in Athens, and soon the tides were turning. Heading into the season's final game, the team was riding a three-game win streak. Rival Miami loomed large, with the 30th Battle for the Victory Bell slated for Thanksgiving Day at Carson Field.



The weather was terrible that day.

"Eleven football players wearing the colors of the University of Cincinnati and without stockings stepped forth in the mud and rain before 5,000 fans at Carson Field Thursday," wrote the Enquirer's Tom Swope.

Cincinnati surged to a dominating 14-0 lead at halftime through the rain. "Miami never showed anything resembling a real offense," reported The Enquirer.

When the teams returned to the mud after halftime, it happened. Early in the third quarter, "some player" stepped on Jimmy's left leg with a muddy cleat, gashing him to the bone. He remained in the game, helping to complete a 23-0 UC victory that newspapers called "the worst licking Cincy has dealt out to the Oxford team since 1904." After just two wins in 16 games, the Bearcats went 5-1 to end the season, capping 1923 with a rivalry win to earn a 6-3 record. 

Nobody, not even Jimmy, knew of the severity of the injury until after the game. "The warm water of the shower started the pain in the injury, and examination disclosed an ugly wound." He was cleaned up and sent to his home in Westwood, encouraged to rest for a few days. Yet two weeks passed, and Jimmy's leg continued to bother him to such an extent that his family checked him into Christ Hospital on December 15th, where physicians discovered blood poisoning. "Half a dozen doctors" initially believed a blood transfusion could top the deterioration, and scores of teammates and students lined up to donate. Seven players, including his brother Louis, donated blood, but it was decided that Jimmy was too weak for the procedure. By December 20th, the Cincinnati Post was reporting that Jimmy was fighting for his life. 

"UC football fans never rooted as hard for the Bearcats at Carson Field or any other gridiron as they are rooting for Jimmy Nippert as he fights to break thru the strongest line he ever tackled," wrote the Enquirer. "Personally, we think so much of Jimmy our eyes are dim with tears as we write this."



Jimmy Nippert died on Christmas morning, 1923. The passing of Cincinnati football's "most-loved player" sent shockwaves through the community. The Bearcats men's basketball team had a game against Yale on the 29th, and school officials debated postponing in light of the tragedy. Ultimately, they determined Jimmy would've wanted them to play on. "Jimmy was never a boy to ask special concessions for himself," explained The Cincinnati Post. "He was just one of the student body and one of the football team."

The funeral was held on December 28th at Westwood Methodist Episcopal Church. Coach McLaren, Athletic Director Boyd Chambers, and several football players served as pallbearers. "James Nippert gave promise of great things to his beloved city, state, and nation," read his eulogy. "His loyalty to his team, his experience in the game and his great ability to handle men did much to stabilize the team and carry it on to victory."

Jimmy, whose middle name was Gamble, came from Procter & Gamble lineage. Amidst the crushing sadness of his sudden death, his grandfather sprang to action. James N. Gamble––son of the Procter & Gamble co-founder and inventor of ivory soap––wrote a letter to UC president Fredrick Hicks just one week after Jimmy's passing and announced a gift that would change the university forever:



"I have no particular wishes or conditions attaching to the development of this plan," Gamble elaborated. "But should like to add to the regular stadium structure certain dressing rooms, bathrooms and two fully equipped dispensaries, one for each contending team, so that in case of even the slightest injury to a player the best and most scientific treatment may be administered immediately."

A stadium construction project mired in fundraising problems for years––and only partially completed since 1915 when workers first began building its permanent structures––was suddenly saved. 

The stadium would be named James Gamble Nippert Memorial Stadium. It's an enduring legacy that he couldn't have envisioned; then again, neither could he have envisioned dying from a football injury after returning to the Bearcats when they needed him most. There's some irony in such a distinction being bestowed upon a player who didn't seek any of it, but there's no irony in the fact that it was Jimmy Nippert. In many ways, he's a prototypical Bearcat: Courageous and gritty, ready to rise to the occasion when needed, and doing it all for the pride of himself, his school, and his city.

When Jimmy was born in 1900, his father Alfred began a tradition of planting the family Christmas tree next to their home each year, a growing patch of trees in the family's yard, marking the years of Jimmy and Louis' lives, unaware one son would leave him on Christmas, of all days.

A century later, the grove of trees is gone. The stadium still stands.