VICTORY HARD WON
The long-suffering reader mustn’t think that I have any intention of
inflicting on him a detailed account of the remaining three periods of
that game. I have offended sufficiently already. Besides, it was that
first period, with a few moments of the second, and the last quarter
only that held the high lights. The in-between was interesting to
watch, but it would be dull reading.
Mt. Millard started the second period on Alton’s sixteen and, perhaps
just to show that she could perform the feat against a still bewildered
opponent, slashed a back through between Newton and Renneker for three
yards on a fake run around end. Of course had she tried such a thing a
second time it wouldn’t have come off, but Marsh had no intention of
trying it. He deployed his ends, sent his goal-kicker back and then
heaved across the center of the line. Fortunately for the defenders of
the south goal, Reilly knocked down the ball. After that there wasn’t
much left for Mt. Millard but a try-at-goal, and after a conference
between captain and quarter the try was made. The kicker retreated
a good twelve yards from his center, which took him close to the
twenty-five line, a retreat that in view of subsequent happenings was
well advised. For Alton, stung by recent reverses, piled through the
Mt. Millard forwards and hurled aside the guardian backs. It was just
those added yards that defeated her. The ball, hurtling away from the
kicker’s toe, passed safely above upstretched hands and sailed over the
cross-bar.
Mt. Millard did a few hand-springs while a 3 was placed to her credit
on the score-board, and her delighted supporters yelled themselves
hoarse. There was noticeable lack of enthusiasm on the other side of
the field, although by the time the opponents again faced each other
for the kick-off the Alton cheerers had found their voices again. The
balance of the second period held its moments of excitement, but on
the whole it was tame and colorless after that first quarter. Alton,
regaining the ball after she had kicked it off, started another
pilgrimage to the distant goal, smearing the enemy with hard, old-style
football and eating up ground steadily if slowly. Once Menge got safely
away around the Mt. Millard left end and shot over sixteen yards of
trampled turf before an enemy stood him on his head, but for the rest
it was gruelling work, the more gruelling as the attack drew near the
edge of scoring territory. If Mt. Millard was light of weight she
was nevertheless game, and seldom indeed did the Alton attack get
started before the enemy was half-way to meet it. Reilly gave place
to Kendall in the middle of the journey, and Smedley to Stimson. Mt.
Millard likewise called on two fresh recruits to strengthen her line.
Alton hammered her way to the Mt. Millard twenty-eight yards and there
struck a snag. Greenwood failed to gain at the center, Kendall was
repulsed for a slight loss, Greenwood made four on a wide run from
kicking position, and then, with seven to gain on fourth down, it was
put up to Captain Emerson, and that youth tried hard to tie the score
with a placement-kick from just back of the thirty yards. The aim was
true enough, but Rus hadn’t put quite enough into the swing of his
leg and the ball passed just under the bar, so close to it, indeed,
that deceived Alton supporters cheered loudly and long before they
discovered their error. Mt. Millard kicked on second down and the few
plays that brought the half to an end were all in Alton territory.
The visitor presented the same line-up when the third quarter began.
For Alton, Red Reilly was back at right half and Garrick was at
center in place of Newton. Alton was expected to return refreshed
and determined and wreak swift vengeance on the foe, and the anxious
cheerers gave the players a fine welcome when they trotted back to
the gridiron. But although the Gray-and-Gold seemed to have profited
by the interim and played with more skill than before, Mt. Millard
was still clever enough to hold her off during the succeeding twelve
minutes. Alton tried three forward-passes and made one of them good.
This brought a reward of fourteen yards. Another pass grounded and
a third went to Mt. Millard. To offset that fourteen yards, the
Gray-and-Gold was twice penalized for off-side. Twice Alton reached
the enemy’s thirty-yard line only to be turned back. The first time
Greenwood missed the pass for a six-yard loss and was forced to punt
and the other time Mt. Millard intercepted Appel’s toss across the left
wing. When, at last, the whistle once more sounded, the ball was in
Alton’s hands close to Mt. Millard’s forty-yard line. The teams changed
goals and the final period started.
Greenwood got seven yards outside right tackle and put the ball on Mt.
Millard’s thirty-four. Menge made one through left guard. With two to
go, Greenwood smashed through the left of center for six, but the horn
sounded and the ball was put back fifteen yards for holding. Greenwood
ran from kicking position, but a ubiquitous Mt. Millard end dumped him
well back of the line. Greenwood punted to the corner of the field and
the ball rolled across the goal-line. Mt. Millard got four yards in two
plunges at Stimson and then made the rest of her distance by sending a
half around Slim’s end. Another attempt at Stimson was good for three
yards, but when the full-back tried Renneker he was stopped short. On
third down Marsh threw across the field to a waiting half, but Slim
knocked the ball aside just short of the receiver’s hands. Mt. Millard
punted to Alton’s twenty-eight and Appel caught and by clever dodging
raced back to the forty-one.
Then Alton’s big drive began. Using a tackles-back shift, Appel sent
Greenwood and Reilly and again Greenwood at the Mt. Millard line, first
on one side of center and then on the other, and took the pigskin into
the enemy’s country. Then Menge got three around left and Slim, running
behind, added three more on a wide expedition in the same direction.
Greenwood threw short across the center to Captain Emerson, and Rus
made five before he was thrown. From the thirty-seven the ball went
more slowly, but no less certainly to the twenty-five. There a skin
tackle play at the right gained but a yard, and Greenwood again threw
forward, the ball grounding. From kick formation Greenwood raced around
left for five. With six to go he stood back as if to try a goal, but
the ball went to Reilly who, with the right tackle ahead of him, dug a
passage through center and made the necessary four yards. After that
there was no stopping the invasion. From the fifteen to the four Reilly
and Greenwood, alternating, went in four tries. With the Alton stand
cheering madly, imploringly, little Menge slid around left end while
the attack was faked at the center and made the one-yard. From there
Greenwood was pushed over on the second attempt.
When the teams lined up on the five-yard line it was Captain Emerson
who went back for the try-at-goal. This time, the line holding stoutly,
he had no difficulty in placing the ball over the bar, and it was
Alton’s turn to celebrate. At last, it seemed, the hoodoo had been
broken and Mt. Millard defeated.
There remained, however, more than six minutes of playing time, and
much might happen in six minutes. Much did happen, for when, having
kicked off to Alton and forced the latter to punt after once gaining
her distance, Mt. Millard went back to her bag of tricks. Some of
the things she tried were weird and some risky, so risky that only
desperation could have counseled them. But too frequently they were
successful. A wide formation with both ends on one side of the line
and the tackles on the other was good for a twelve-yard gain when the
ball was shot obliquely across the field. The runner was spilled before
he could get started by Rus Emerson, but twelve yards was enough to
move the stakes to a new location. After a plunge at the line, good for
two yards, the enemy used the same formation again. But this time a
quartering run by a half-back eventuated and was stopped almost at the
line. Again Mt. Millard tried a long forward-pass. The receiver was out
of position and the ball came back. Faking a punt, the full-back hit
the Alton line and went through for eight yards, placing the ball on
Alton’s forty-six.
Desperately indeed the visitor waged the attack. Mr. Cade sent in three
fresh players; Wilde for Stimson, Kerrison for Emerson and Dakin for
Reilly. Mt. Millard had already made several substitutions, one a guard
who gave Gordon Renneker a hard battle. Forced to punt at last, Mt.
Millard sent the ball over the goal-line, and Alton lined up on the
twenty. Here it was that Dakin nearly upset the apple-cart. Plunging at
tackle on his own side, he let go of the ball, and it trickled across
the field with about every warrior after it. It was Slim who finally
fell on it on his own eight yards.
Goodwin, standing astride the goal-line, punted on first down, but the
ball went high and short, passing out of bounds at the twenty-six,
and from there Mt. Millard started again with unabated determination.
Greenwood was replaced by Goodwin. A forward-pass made a scant seven
yards for the besiegers. Then, from wide-open formation, came another.
This time three backs handled the pigskin before it was finally thrown.
It would have scored a touchdown had it been caught, but there were
two Alton men on the spot, and the Mt. Millard end had no chance. Then
the enemy hustled into kick-formation and Alton breathed a sigh of
relief. Even if the enemy secured another field-goal the game would
still be Alton’s. Perhaps Mt. Millard had that knowledge in mind, for
she didn’t kick, after all. Standing back near the twenty-five-yard
streak, Quarterback Marsh poised the ball in the palm of his hand, a
tiny motionless figure amidst a maelstrom of rushing forms. Cries of
warning filled the air. Marsh, as if unaware of the enemy plunging down
on him, surveyed the field. Then, just as Billy Wells bore down with
arms upstretched, Marsh side-stepped easily and threw to where, beyond
the goal-line, a Mt. Millard end was wheeling into position. Scarcely
above the finger-tips of the leaping Alton players sped the oval, fast
and straight. The Mt. Millard end ran forward a step, poised for the
catch. And then Nemesis in the shape of Slim Staples took a hand. Slim,
crashing off a goal-post, staggered into the path of the ball, leaped
upward and closed his hands about it. Then he went down into a sea of
massing players and a whistle blew shrilly.
The game was over and Alton had won it, 7 to 3. Mt. Millard had staked
all on that final play and lost, but there was more honor accruing from
that heroic attempt than would have been hers had she secured that
field-goal. Defeated but far from disheartened, the tiny quarterback
summoned his teammates and cheered heartily if hoarsely for the
victors. And Alton, returning the cheer with no more breath than the
losers, paid homage to a gallant foe.
Slim emerged from that contest something of a hero and with his right
and title to the left end position unassailable. Smedley emerged less
fortunately, for he had wrenched a knee so badly that his future use
to the team was more than doubtful. There were many other injuries,
but none serious. Alton was joyous over having at last won a game
from the enemy, but by the next day she was weighing the pros and
cons and unwillingly reaching the conclusion that, on the whole, the
Gray-and-Gold had a long way to go before she would be in position to
face Kenly Hall with better than a one to two chance of winning. There
were plenty who stated emphatically that Mt. Millard should have had
that game, basing their contention on the more varied and brilliant
attack of the visitor. But there were plenty of others who stoutly
held that the better team had won, just as the better team does win
ninety-nine times in a hundred, and that even allowing Mt. Millard
less weight and a far more dazzling and puzzling offense Alton had
been there with the good old straight football stuff that wins games.
That Mr. Cade was satisfied with the team’s showing is very doubtful,
but then coaches are like that. They never are satisfied quite. Johnny
didn’t say anything to lead any one to think he was not content. That
was the trouble. He said too little. Those veterans who knew him well
understood perfectly that Johnny Cade was not mentally shaking hands
with himself!