On This Day in 1916, the US Faced One of Its Toughest Tests of the Tour, Earning a Draw in Christiania
The violence that erupted in Gothenburg cast a shadow over what had begun as a triumphant tour. After their 2-1 victory over Örgryte, American players found themselves fleeing a mob of incensed supporters who had pinned goalkeeper George Tintle to a fence and kicked him. The scene descended into chaos as fans hurled stones at the team's automobiles. At the same time, secretary Thomas Cahill engaged in a street fight to protect the American flag from a would-be vandal, wielding his cane against his assailant before police intervened with drawn swords.
The ugly aftermath forced a reckoning with Swedish critics who dismissed the Americans' aggressive style as primitive brutality unsuited to civilized football. Yet even as some condemned their methods, others recognized something revolutionary in their approach. Gothenburg sportswriter Carl Linde observed that this represented "a new way of playing," noting how American willpower compensated for technical deficiencies through sheer physical commitment and an uncompromising will to win.
King Gustav himself, reportedly vexed by the violence, ordered a special commission to investigate the incidents. The Americans, shaken by the hostility, refused to play another match in Gothenburg. As they prepared to travel north to Christiania, they faced not just a different opponent but a test of whether their controversial methods could succeed without provoking similar scenes.
Norway presented a fascinating contrast to Sweden. While the hosts had accumulated experience through 37 international matches, Norway remained winless after 19 attempts, managing only four draws and suffering 15 defeats. Yet this record belied their growing competence, and manager Cahill anticipated their most challenging encounter yet. The Norwegians had developed a reputation for fast, attacking play that could expose any defensive vulnerabilities in the American system.
The match held special significance beyond the sporting contest. A crowd of 20,000 was expected at Christiania—one of the largest ever assembled for a Norwegian sporting event. The Americans needed to prove their style could produce results without the ugly confrontations that had marred their Swedish experience. More importantly, they faced the prospect of completing their historic tour on a positive note that would vindicate Cahill's ambitious vision for American soccer.
September 3 arrived with crisp autumn weather and mounting anticipation throughout Christiania. The Americans fielded their strongest available lineup, with captain Thomas Swords leading the attack and Charles Ellis anchoring the midfield. Norway, desperate to record their first international victory, deployed an aggressive formation designed to exploit their pace advantage over the visiting defenders. The opening exchanges established the match's character immediately. Where Sweden had been taken aback by American intensity, Norway met fire with fire, matching the visitors' high tempo and physical commitment.
The deadlock lasted 35 minutes before disaster struck the American cause. During a fierce challenge in midfield, one of the American players sustained an injury that left him unable to continue. Under the rules of the era, no substitution was permitted, reducing the visitors to ten men for the remainder of the contest. Yet it was the short-handed Americans who struck first. Ellis, who had earned criticism for his role in the Gothenburg confrontations, redeemed himself with a moment of individual brilliance. Collecting the ball in the center circle, the Brooklyn Celtics midfielder embarked on a determined run that carved through the Norwegian defense. His finish was clinical, sending the American supporters among the crowd into raptures while silencing the home faithful.
Norway's equalizer arrived through sustained pressure rather than individual inspiration. The home forwards, encouraged by their numerical advantage, began to find spaces in the American defense. When the ball fell kindly in the penalty area, the Norwegian striker Kaare Engebretsen made no mistake, driving his shot past the American goalkeeper to level the score. The stadium erupted as twenty thousand voices acclaimed their team's persistence. The final thirty minutes tested both teams' resolve. Norway, scenting their first international victory, committed additional players forward in waves of attack. The Americans, reduced to playing with nine men after a second injury, found themselves defending desperately while seeking opportunities to counter-attack.
American defenders threw their bodies into crucial blocks, while the goalkeeper produced saves that kept his team's hopes alive. At the other end, the visitors created sporadic chances through their direct approach, but Norway's defense held firm under pressure. The referee's final whistle brought cheers from the capacity crowd, who had witnessed a genuine spectacle regardless of the result. The 1-1 draw represented Norway's best result to date against established opposition, while the Americans had demonstrated remarkable resilience in the face of adversity.
Unlike the scenes in Gothenburg, both sets of players received warm applause as they left the field, suggesting that aggressive play need not inevitably lead to confrontation when matched by sporting opponents. The tour concluded with a return to Stockholm, where the Americans avenged their earlier 3-0 defeat with a 2-1 victory. The final statistics—three wins, two draws, and one defeat—established crucial precedents for American international soccer. The team's direct style had proven effective against established European opposition, while their geographical diversity demonstrated that American soccer possessed national strength.
The cultural exchange extended beyond football. American baseball demonstrations so impressed King Gustav that he introduced the sport into Stockholm schools. Two members of the touring party, Ellis and trainer Harry Davenport, accepted offers to remain in Sweden at $50 per week as early American soccer exports.
As the remaining players sailed home aboard the Oscar II, they carried the satisfaction of having opened a new chapter in American soccer history. The draw in Christiania, achieved against overwhelming odds, had demonstrated that their methods could succeed through sporting rather than controversial means. Though nearly eight years would pass before the next official American international, the precedents established in 1916—geographical diversity, physical commitment, and tactical simplicity—would become hallmarks of American play for more than a century to come.