THE INDIGNATION MEETING
For a minute no one accepted the invitation, and chuckles of
amusement came from the rear of the hall where the younger fellows
were foregathered. Finally, “Go to it, Carter!” called one of the
irrepressibles, and Ned Carter, a serious-visaged Junior arose slowly
to his feet.
“Carter,” said Sears in recognition.
“Mr. Chairman and fellows,” began Carter, “a lot of us fellows aren’t
at all satisfied with the way things are going. I mean about football.
Our team has played five games so far and it’s been licked three times.
We want to know what the reason is.” Applause was instantaneous, and
the speaker, encouraged, thrust his hands in his trousers pockets and
went on with more assurance. “We started out all right, as you all
know. We didn’t have any trouble beating Highland Hall. Then we got
a coach and――and things haven’t gone so well. I haven’t got anything
against the coach personally. None of us have. We know him and we think
he’s a fine fellow. But it stands to reason that a fellow who has never
played football and never coached a team before isn’t the best sort of
a fellow to coach for us. I’m not saying it’s his fault that we’ve made
such a poor showing so far, but I do think it’s somebody’s fault. A lot
of us fellows――――”
“You s-s-said that b-b-before,” called Fudge in a voice audible to
most of the gathering, and a ripple of amusement started and was met
by hisses and cries of “Shut up!” and “Put him out!” Carter proceeded
doggedly.
“A lot of us fellows want to know whose fault it is. That’s why this
meeting was called. And what I say is, let’s talk it over and find out
what’s best to be done and――and do it.”
Carter subsided amidst applause, some of it ironic, and the tall and
lanky Bingham sought recognition. Bingham had a smirk on his face, and
those who knew him best expected something particularly disagreeable
from him. Nor were they disappointed.
“Carter,” began Bingham, “says somebody is to blame for the way things
have been going and that we ought to find out who it is. Seems to me
it isn’t very hard to find out. We’ve got as good a lot of players as
we’ve ever had, I guess. You all saw what they did to Highland Hall,
the first of the season, before there was any interference. The team
was all right then. Then they went and got a coach, and what happened?”
Bingham paused impressively.
“Tell us, little one, what did happen,” pleaded a falsetto voice
from the far side of the hall. Bingham frowned at the unseemly mirth
which ensued at this witticism and hastened to forestall further
interruptions.
“Since we have had our _coach_――” and his emphasis on the word was
unpleasantly sarcastic――“we’ve played five games against weak teams
and been beaten in three of them! I guess we ought to be thankful we
haven’t got _two_ coaches. If we had we might have been beaten in all
of them!” The effort at humor aroused a few uncertain chuckles. “I say
it isn’t hard to place the blame for the punk condition of our team,
and it isn’t, either. The fellows are all right. They do as they are
told. The trouble is the fellow who tells them what to do doesn’t
know his business. He’s had no experience. He never played a game of
football in his life. He couldn’t because――――”
“Shame!” cried the girls, and some of the audience hissed. Sears rapped
his knuckles smartly on the table.
“The meeting will come to order,” he said severely. “And I must warn
the speaker that personalities must be kept out of this discussion.”
“Mr. Chairman, I am speaking of the football coach. If we can’t discuss
the coach what’s the good of this meeting? Besides, I see that he is
here in person to answer for himself. I suppose he thought that if he
came we wouldn’t dare criticize him. If he thought that he is dead
wrong. We have a right to protest against his haphazard, ridiculous
system of coaching and to demand that he either show results or
yield his position to some one else, some one who at least knows the
difference between a touchdown and a head-guard!”
“Nominate Bingham for coach!” shouted a small youth in the back of
the hall and this time the laughter was spontaneous and prolonged, so
prolonged, in spite of the chairman’s stern demands for order, that
Bingham, who evidently intended to say more, hesitated and finally sat
down.
Several other speakers followed. One, a Senior named Lewis, spoke well
and rationally. “I regret that previous speakers have seen fit to lay
the blame for the state of affairs on Dick Lovering, our coach. He
doesn’t deserve it. Things don’t seem to be going very well, and that’s
a fact, but I don’t think there’s anyone to blame for it. The trouble
began when we lost Farrell. The team went on for some two weeks, I
believe, without anyone in charge, and Captain White had everything
to attend to, assisted, of course, by the manager. We all know that
White tried his best to find a man to take Farrell’s place, and that
he couldn’t do it. Then the Athletic Committee decided not to pay a
salary this year, and that settled all chance of getting anyone with
experience. As a last resort Captain White and some of the players
went to Dick Lovering and asked him to coach the team. Lovering
didn’t ask for the place and didn’t want it. He refused at first, I
am told, and finally consented because White and the others wouldn’t
take No. Lovering has made no claims to be an experienced football
coach. The fellows didn’t think he was. But they had to have some
one and Lovering was the only fellow in sight. If things haven’t gone
as well as they might have you can’t lay any blame to Lovering. He
may be partly accountable, but he isn’t to blame. He’s done the best
he’s known how. I’m certain of that. Perhaps he has made mistakes. I
confess I don’t know, for I’m no football authority. But I _am_ sure he
has done his level best and worked hard. Now the whole thing amounts
to this. You’re not satisfied with the progress the team has made.
Probably the team itself isn’t. Perhaps if methods of instruction or
coaching or whatever you have a mind to call it, were altered things
would go better. Lovering himself is here this evening. Before we go
any further, why not hear from him? Perhaps he can satisfy us that
things aren’t as bad as they seem, that they’re going to be a lot
better and that when we run against Springdale next month we’re going
to lick her. If we do that we’ll have done what we want most to do, and
we’ll forget all about what went before. I’d like to hear from Coach
Lovering.”
There followed much applause as Dick put his crutches under his arms,
arose and faced the meeting. Then the hand-clapping subsided and an
expectant silence ensued. Dick looked sober but quite untroubled. He
began to speak in a quiet voice plainly heard all over the hall and in
crisp, businesslike tones.
“Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,” began Dick, “I thank the last
speaker for his expressions of good will. And I am very glad of this
opportunity to say a few words. But if you expect me to make a defense
of my methods you will be disappointed. Lewis outlined better than I
could the events of this present football season. I was chosen, as
he has told you, not because I had ever coached a team, not because
I claimed that I could coach a team, but because there seemed no one
else to fill the position. And I did hold off for awhile, not because I
didn’t want to do it, for I did, and not because I thought I couldn’t
do it, for I had a strong impression that I could. Lewis says that I
must not be held to blame. I say that if there is any blame it’s mine.
I’m ready to accept it and――――”
Dick’s friends and not a few of the opposition applauded warmly.
“And I want to accept it. But especially I want you to believe that the
team is not at fault. We’ve got a good team, a fine lot of players,
willing, hard-working, cheerful. It’s not the best team we’ve ever
had. None of you will claim that. But it’s more than an average good
one. It’s good enough to beat Springdale. I say that assuredly. If it
doesn’t beat Springdale the fault will be mine and not the players’.
But I don’t think it’s going to be necessary to find fault with anyone,
for I firmly believe we’re going to win.”
More applause then, heartier and less restricted to the element
supporting the speaker. But with it came a challenge from across the
hall: “Talk’s cheap, Lovering! Show us something!” “That’s right!”
cried Carter. “Win a game and we’ll believe it!”
“My one reason for speaking this evening,” continued Dick, calmly, “is
to tell you plainly, to thoroughly convince you that if we have lost
three games out of five it is not the fault of the players. I don’t
say that we could have won all five games, but I am pretty sure that
we could have won three of them. That we didn’t was because I thought
it unwise to push the team, as it would have had to be pushed, to a
condition where it could have won. This, please understand, is not an
apology, but merely an explanation. Not only did I think that the
team should not have been pushed then, but I still think it should not
be pushed, and I shall not be in the least surprised if we are again
defeated next Saturday.”
A howl of protest greeted that announcement. Sears rapped hard for
order. Dick smiled slightly and waited. When comparative silence fell
once more he went on.
“When I accepted the honor of the position I hold――and it is an honor,
and I appreciate it――it was with the distinct understanding that I was
to have a free hand. So far I have had it. And I intend to have it,
with all respect to you, as long as I am in charge. I am doing my best
to turn out a team that will win from Springdale High School, and I
tell you frankly that I don’t care a button how many lickings we get
meanwhile. Springdale has a strong team this year; it looks now as if
she would be stronger than last year, when she had no trouble beating
us. Some fellows might win all or nearly all of the early games and
then win from Springdale with the material we have this Fall. But I
tell you candidly that I am afraid to risk it. I am working for just
one result and to obtain that result I am going about it in the manner
I think best. And I firmly believe that my work should be judged by
whether or not I obtain the result I am after. I have no wish to
antagonize a single fellow, a single person, in this hall to-night, but
I tell you quite frankly that I shall continue to go my own way as long
as I am coach, that I shall not resign and that I shall resist to the
utmost any attempt to oust me. I thank you for listening so patiently.”
There was a moment of silence. Then applause broke out deafeningly.
Hand-clapping, shouts, stamping made a pandemonium of the meeting.
Sears helplessly banged on the table. Half a dozen fellows claimed
recognition. But it was long before Sears could make himself heard.
When he at last succeeded it was in recognition of Sprague McCoy.
“Mr. Chairman!” shouted McCoy, trying to be heard the length of the
assembly hall above the din. “Mr. Chairman, I move you that a vote of
confidence be given Coach Lovering, doggone it!”
Laughter, shouts of approval, cries of disapprobation followed. Carter,
Bingham and half a dozen others sought for recognition. But Sears was
strangely blind. Several fellows seconded the motion and Sears rapped
and rapped for order.
“Are you ready for the question?”
“All right!” “Yes, let her go!” “Shoot, Officer!”
“All in favor will say Aye!... Contrary.... It is a vote!... Is there
... further business ... meeting?” Sears’ voice was only heard at
intervals. “If not ... adjourn ... in order.”
“Move we adjourn!” shouted Guy Felker.
“Second it!”
“Moved and seconded that the meeting now adjourn,” mumbled Sears. “All
those....”
What followed was lost in the scraping of settees and the jumble of
talk and laughter. The indignation meeting was at an end!