When Prineville Took the Field: The Birth of Football in Central Oregon

In the early 1900s, the high desert towns of Central Oregon were still more accustomed to rodeos and rifle contests than cleats and touchdowns. Football, a sport still gaining national traction, was virtually unheard of in rural communities like Prineville and Bend. But in the fall of 1911, that changed.

The booming timber and railroad industries were beginning to draw newcomers from the East—young men fresh out of college, bringing with them new ideas, new ambitions, and, as it happened, a love for the game of football. In both Prineville and Bend, these recent transplants found kindred spirits among the locals. Before long, two unlikely teams had formed—scrappy collections of ranchers, shopkeepers, college graduates, and adventurers willing to trade their hats and boots for leather helmets and laced-up shoes.

That December, the two towns squared off in what would become Central Oregon’s first organized football game. The site was a rough field in Bend—likely more dust than turf—with little in the way of yard lines, goalposts, or rules enforcement. But that didn’t matter. The entire region seemed to turn out for the event. Farmers and stockmen arrived on horseback, buggies brought in spectators from outlying homesteads, and ladies in wool coats huddled together on the sidelines, cheering their boys on. It was festive, competitive, and spirited—the makings of a true local rivalry.

The game itself was a hard-fought battle, gritty and fast-paced despite the freezing weather. No one scored. Prineville did cross into the end zone once, but the play was called back on a penalty—a moment that still might sting a little for the home crowd. The final score: 0–0.

Not content to let the match end in a draw, the teams agreed to a rematch—this time in Prineville. News spread quickly, and preparations began. The Prineville squad, eager to shift the odds in their favor, reached out to a man named Gumm, a practicing attorney from Redmond with an impressive football past. Gumm had once been a star fullback at the University of Iowa and was, without question, the most experienced player in the region. He agreed to join the Prineville side for the second game.

On game day, the crowd in Prineville was even larger than before. Townsfolk packed the sidelines, bundled up and buzzing with excitement. Gumm didn’t disappoint. With his help, Prineville took command of the game, running up a score of 17–0 and securing what would go down as the first definitive football victory in Central Oregon history.

The match became an instant legend, and it sparked something more enduring: a passion for football that took root in the high desert. Not long after, Crook County High School formed its own team, and for many years they dominated the region’s playing fields. Prineville’s early advantage gradually slipped as neighboring towns like Bend and Redmond grew, but the memory of that first victory—of the underdogs with muddy boots and big dreams—remained a source of local pride.

Looking back, it wasn’t just a football game. It was a turning point. It marked the beginning of a new kind of community spirit—one shaped not only by frontier grit and self-reliance but also by teamwork, competition, and shared celebration. On that cold day in 1911, Central Oregon found a new tradition—one that would outlast seasons, generations, and even the memory of who scored what, when.