TUBB WINS PROMOTION
First, the Orange changed her back-field formation entirely. Instead
of standing close to the line, three abreast, the two halves and the
full-back retired to a position a good ten yards behind the scrimmage
and spread widely. The quarter stood five yards behind center, crouched
to take the pass. The right tackle shifted to the other side of the
line, toward which, at the start of the signal, the three backs made
a quarter-turn. But as the ball went back to the quarter the three
swung to the right and started diagonally toward the end of their
line, left half and full aiming at a point just outside it and right
half deploying further to the right. At the same moment the right end
began sprinting straight toward the side-line, drawing the Yardley left
tackle and a defensive back with him.
Having taken the ball from center, the quarter-back started also to
the right, running parallel to the line until, left half and full
having crossed in front of him, he was behind right end’s original
position. There he slowed and shot the pigskin away at a lateral pass
to the right half. The throw was some fifteen yards and perfectly made,
and the right half, as yet unmolested, had no difficulty in getting it.
Whereupon he set forth on his adventures, heading straight along the
side-line and about twelve yards away from it. The opposing end had
been blanketed by the full-back and it was not until the runner crossed
the line of scrimmage that serious opposition to his advance developed.
And then, with his own end and left half guarding his flank and the
quarter making trouble for the rear attack, he proceeded brilliantly
across the middle of the field and set his eyes on the goal.
Yardley, suspecting something unusual and spectacular, had played her
ends back and out and deployed three backs up the field. Halliday, at
right end, had been rudely set aside, and it was Curran and Roover
on whom the task of stopping the runner devolved. Roover, nearer at
hand, did his best to get past the interference but failed, although
in failing he upset the Brown and Young’s full-back. By now the whole
field was in pursuit, with, however, most of it hopelessly out of the
race. Yet Casement, who for a guard was remarkably fast on his feet,
somehow managed to get to the fore and sent the Orange quarter-back
spinning aside, after which he put out for the runner. But Curran was
the man for the job.
Slowing as he neared the prey, he feinted as though to pass behind
the Orange left half who was running about three yards inside the man
with the ball. The half, guessing that the enemy would do the thing he
appeared not to be doing, ran on, and Curran, leaping forward, circled
behind him. And, although the half challenged, throwing himself between
Curran and his team-mate, Curran managed somehow to meet the impact
and, carried forward by his own momentum, seized one Yellow-and-Black
leg ere it twinkled beyond his reach. The man with the ball added
another yard to his gain, dragging Curran with him, but that weight was
not to be denied and he came to his knees. Then Casement flattened him
out, friend and foe labored breathlessly up and the whistle blew.
Brown and Young’s had made a gain of nearly thirty yards, for when
the ball had been wrested from the tenacious grip of the Orange right
half-back it went down just short of Yardley’s thirty-yard line.
Orange-hued banners waved wildly on the east stand while Yardley gave a
well-deserved cheer for the rival half-back.
Brown and Young’s had her eyes on the goal-line now and it seemed that
she was not to be denied. Twice she hurled her full-back through for
short gains at left guard, and then, using the new formation again,
worked as pretty a quarter-back run around her left end as had ever
been seen on Yardley Field. With the ball on the seventeen yards,
she tried the line once more and split through for half the needed
distance, the Blue’s left crumpling badly. Twining took the place of
Rose, and another attempt on the left gained a scant yard. With four
to go on third down, Brown and Young’s made all preparations for a
place-kick, and a big, long-legged tackle ranged back to position.
Yet Yardley refused to believe in that kick. The Orange needed seven
points to tie, and it wasn’t likely that, with only a short time left,
she would satisfy herself with a mere three points. And so, although
everything pointed to a kick from placement, Fanning and Curran sounded
their warnings and the backs hovered anxiously midway between line and
goal. Then, at last, the ball sped back.
But it never reached the outstretched hands of the tackle. Instead,
it went to a half-back and, as the Blue’s forwards desperately broke
through, the half poised the pigskin calmly until Casement was almost
on him and then as calmly sped it over the mêlée diagonally into the
waiting arms of his right end. And that youth had but to take two
strides to cross the last white line. When he was pulled down he was
almost behind the right goal post.
How that end got into position for receiving the pass unnoticed none
on the Yardley team ever knew. One moment he wasn’t there and the next
moment he was. Halliday and Deering, theoretically at least, shared the
blame, although, as Fanning generously said afterwards, a forward-pass
was the last thing expected. Not once before had the enemy attempted a
forward from ordinary formation, and unconsciously Yardley had grown to
think that that play was not included in her plan of battle. As it was,
Arnold had seen the ball hurtling toward the corner of the field and
had leaped forward with a sick feeling at his heart. But he had been a
fraction of a moment too late. The end had made the catch ere Arnold
reached him, and although Arnold threw desperate arms toward him the
end eluded them and went free until Curran pulled him to earth.
Brown and Young’s walked the ball out and, although the angle was
sufficient to allow Yardley to hope for failure, the big tackle sent it
squarely between the posts and the score was tied.
With less than four minutes left, it was fairly obvious that 7 to
7 would be the final score, but Yardley, with three new men in her
line-up, still hoped and returned eagerly to the fray. The kick-off
went to the Orange’s twelve yards and came back only to her fifteen. A
skin-tackle on her right brought her three yards and a second attempt
was stopped. For the first time since the game had started the Orange
players became ugly. Many changes had been made, and possibly it was
a substitute who, charging through, tried to “mix it up” with Bates,
who had succeeded Deering. Friends of both players sprang between and
the Orange youth got off with a warning from the referee. There were
a few hisses, many “boos” and some laughter from the stands. Possibly
the incident supplied the added incentive that allowed Yardley to break
through a moment later and block the adversary’s kick. The ball bounded
from the up-thrown arm of a Yardley lineman and became lost in a mass
of struggling players and for a long moment confusion reigned. When the
referee finally penetrated to the bottom of the squirming, grunting
pile he found the ball snuggled in the arms of a Yardley forward. The
Blue cheered wildly and implored a touchdown as the result became known
to the stands, and, since the teams lined up on the Orange’s fourteen
yards, a touchdown looked possible enough.
But the Blue’s first play resulted disastrously. Clarke, who had
taken Halliday’s place at the right end of the line, was far offside
when the ball was snapped and the team was set back. A plunge at
guard-tackle hole on the left gave Yardley four yards, and Snowden,
from kick formation, managed two more around right end. Then, however,
a forward-pass, Snowden to Bates, went wrong and Fanning dropped back
for a try-at-goal. While both stands grew silent, Will Curran patted
the ground and poised himself on his knees for the pass from center.
The position was at a slight angle and the distance was less than
twenty yards and the Blue already saw victory perched upon her banner.
But Brown and Young’s was desperate and Yardley, perhaps, oversure,
and when the ball came back to Curran so, too, came half the Orange
team, and, although Fanning met the poised ball fairly, it was still
breast-high when the enemy reached it. There was a tragic _thud_ as it
rebounded from an onrushing player, followed by cries and the pounding
of many feet as friend and foe took up the chase. The pursuit passed
over Curran like a wave, leaving him writhing on the sod.
Back to the thirty-yard line trickled the pigskin, and there a Brown
and Young’s tackle scooped it up from under the nose of half a dozen
others and sprang away toward the distant Yardley goal. But although he
started with a clear field, and although hastily-formed interference
grouped itself about him, he was in no condition for speed, and near
the middle of the field Bates, eluding the interference, pulled him to
earth.
Time was taken out for Curran and he limped off, Noyes taking his
place. From midfield, using every trick she knew, the Orange began a
slow advance toward the Blue’s goal. Yardley fought hard but was forced
to yield. Both teams were pretty well tuckered and after each play
substitutes flocked in, and with their arrival the game became more
erratic. Penalties were dealt to each side fairly impartially, signals
were misunderstood and the play became slower and slower, and at last,
with the ball still in Brown and Young’s possession near the home
team’s thirty yards, the whistle sounded the end of the battle.
As unsatisfactory as the outcome was, the teams parted with mutual
respect, and when Brown and Young’s supporters formed into ranks and
marched off the field, cheering mightily, the Blue’s partisans had
no criticism to make. As Grover Beech put it, as he and Toby and Sid
climbed over the barriers and joined the throng beyond, Brown and
Young’s had played a hard, clean game and, on her showing in the last
half, had deserved a victory.
“Which,” observed Sid Creel dryly, “I am pleased to say she didn’t get!”
The Brown and Young’s contest ended Yardley’s preliminary season.
Four games remained, those with Carrel’s, Nordham, St. John’s, and
Broadwood. Two of these, the Carrel’s and St. John’s games were to be
played away from home. All were looked on as hard battles, although
it might well be that none would prove harder than the contest just
played. Brown and Young’s had been underestimated, and it was certain
that another year her place on the Yardley schedule would be much
further along. Still, there were no regrets over that game. Yardley
had showed her faults in time to allow the proper remedies to take
effect, all of her players had come through the grilling without
serious damage and several second and third string players had found
the opportunity to show ability. Will Curran’s injury was slight, it
seemed, and he would be out of the game but a few days. Some over-eager
Brown and Young’s man had trampled over his prostrate form and placed
a heavy foot against his knee, but treatment and an elastic bandage
would repair the damage. On the whole, Yardley Hall School, coach,
players and noncombatants, were rather well satisfied with the recent
engagement, and there was a general verdict to the effect that the Blue
had been extremely fortunate to get through it without a beating.
Arnold was somewhat downhearted for a day or two, maintaining sadly
that the Orange’s score could be blamed on him, and relating the
incident in appalling detail to Toby until the latter youth begged him
to forget it. “No one else expected a forward-pass then,” said Toby,
“so why should you have looked for one? Besides, it was up to Ted
Halliday as much as to you. Cheer up and ease your face, Arn. You still
have me to live for!”
The final argument didn’t seem to make any great appeal to Arnold at
the moment, but by Monday, after a light session on the gridiron, he
returned to his wonted cheerfulness. That Monday witnessed what, to
Toby at least, was a most surprising event. He learned of it after
practice when, returning to Number 12, he found Arnold there before him.
“I suppose you know about the new end we’ve acquired,” said Arnold,
smiling broadly.
“End? No, what do you mean?”
“What! You haven’t missed him? Such is fame! Ain’t it sad?”
“What are you jabbering about?” Toby relaxed on the window-seat with a
sigh of weariness. “Who haven’t I missed?”
“Why, your bosom friend, Mr. Tubbs, of course.”
“Tubb? What about Tubb?” asked Toby suspiciously.
“Then you don’t know! You haven’t heard the glad and glorious news!”
“I have not, but if Tubb has fallen down and bitten his tongue――――”
“Nary a fall down, old thing! Instead, Mr. Tubbs――or is it Tubb?
Anyway, whatever his poetic name may be, he has landed on his feet.”
“Has he?” Toby sounded bored and indifferent. “Well, he’s been in the
air long enough! In just what manner, Mr. Bones, has the gentleman
landed on his feet? Whenever you consider that the suspense has lasted
long enough, Arn, you have my permission to shoot!”
“Prepare to faint, T. Tucker! Your friend Tubbs has been ruthlessly
torn from your arms! He’s taken over to the First!”