HOLLYWOOD SPRINGS A SURPRISE
Monty was back under Manson’s tuition again the next afternoon. There
was another fifteen minutes of taking direct passes from the center,
during which Monty showed that he had profited reasonably by his lesson
the day before, and then Manson began to teach him to throw the ball
overhand. “If you can start forward-passes, Crail,” he explained, “it’s
going to make you just that much more valuable. I’m not saying you can
learn to do it awfully well in the time we’ve got left, but I intend to
start you right, anyway. Now peg to Peet over there. Whoa, boy! You’re
not putting the shot! Easy does it. Get your arm well stretched―― Hold
on, though. You’ve got to get a better grip on the ball than that. All
your fingers against it, and the end against the palm. If you want to
hold it in the middle, all right, but try this way first. You get more
distance. Now get your arm well up and back. That’s the ticket, Crail.
Keep your eyes on the goal; that is, Peet. You’ll never get the ball
where you want it to go by looking somewhere else. Now throw your arm
over easy and let go when―― Not bad, but don’t run with it. Look here.
Like this. One step’s enough. Get it? Peet, you come in nearer, please.
We’ll try some short heaves first. No use trying for distance until
you’ve got direction.”
Monty threw until his right arm began to tire and then Manson hauled
him to the grandstand and seated him there and went on with his
instruction verbally. Manson had the ability to put thoughts into words
very clearly, and Monty found that he was learning many things he
had never even considered. Finally Coach Bonner summoned him to take
Caner’s place and there was a rather slow and frequently interrupted
quarter-hour of scrimmaging with the second. Mistakes shown in
yesterday’s game were recalled to the memories of the offenders and,
altogether, this afternoon’s practice was distinctly onerous. Monty
hardly knew whether he performed well or ill, so frequently was the
game stopped for the correction of some fault, and he was glad when
the whistle blew and released them. Manson fell in with him at the
side line and kept him company to the field house, pointing out in
his turn such errors as he had observed. Manson had abandoned his
cane, but still walked with a noticeable limp, and Monty was forced to
slacken his pace to that of his companion. Manson was very earnest, and
although his pupil would gladly have postponed any more instruction
to the next day he listened patiently, gratefully to Manson for the
latter’s interest; Manson ended the criticism with an antidote of
encouragement outside the field house door.
“Don’t get the idea that everything you did was all wrong, Crail,” he
said, smiling. “It wasn’t. Fact is you showed up very well. You’re
playing rather a decent game. But I want you to be better than just
good, Crail; I want you to be a crack-a-jack. And you can be, too, if
you make up your mind to it. I wish you could get more practice on
throwing; it would help a lot. Couldn’t you find a half-hour or so in
the morning? If you could get a ball and come over here and put in even
twenty minutes every day it would be fine. Could you, do you think?”
“Yes, I think so. I haven’t a ball, but――――”
“I’ll find one for you. Suppose you took a certain spot and tried to
see how close you could come to it from different distances, eh? Put
your sweater down and throw at that. Take plenty of time at first.
Later you can speed up. Accuracy is the main thing, though. Try that,
Crail, will you? I’ll dig up an old ball and leave it at your room
tonight. You’ve got a full two weeks before the Mount Morris game and
you ought to be able to improve your forward passing a lot in that
time.”
Manson was as good as his word, and when Monty returned to his room
late that evening the football was reposing on his bed and Alvin
Standart was eyeing it curiously and distastefully. But he refrained
from questions, although Monty could see that he was aching to know
why Manson had walked all the way from Lothrop to leave a scarred
and decrepit-looking pigskin. Silence was Alvin’s long suit now. He
seldom addressed Monty unless in reply to the latter’s question, and
such speech as he indulged in was strangely devoid of offense. At
first Monty congratulated himself that Alvin had decided to mend his
ways, but presently the latter’s unnatural silence and more unnatural
politeness came to have for him something sinister. Often he looked up
to surprise a brooding, ominous gaze from Alvin, a gaze that made Monty
feel absolutely squirmish along his spine. “He stares at me like a
snake,” he told Leon one day. “It gives me the creeps. I’ll bet he’s up
to something slimy.”
“Oh, he isn’t worth bothering about, Monty,” Leon reassured him. “First
thing you know he’ll get on your nerves and you won’t be able to play
football.”
“He’s there already, I guess,” answered the other. “Maybe that’s his
game. All the time I’m studying or reading I feel that he’s staring at
me like a――one of those things.”
“What things, you idiot?”
“Don’t remember the word. Something like balisick. A sort of lizard,
you know.”
“Oh, basilisk? There ain’t no such animal, Monty.”
“Isn’t there?” asked Monty dryly. “You come over to my room and see if
there isn’t.”
“Has he performed on the piccolo any more since you threw it out the
window?”
“No, I almost wish he would,” said Monty sadly. “It would be better
than his beastly silence. I don’t know whether he ever found the thing
again. If he did he’s hidden it, for I haven’t seen it since.”
Hollywood School came on Saturday and sprang a surprise. Hollywood had
fallen victim to Mount Morris two weeks earlier by the one-sided score
of 20 to 3, and Grafton did not look for a very difficult contest.
Coach Bonner started the game with five substitutes in the line-up, but
before the second half was well along he had to hurry his best players
into the breech. During most of the first period the two teams gave a
discouraging exhibition of football. Fumbles were frequent on each side
and mistakes of judgment many. The ball changed hands continuously and
neither side threatened the other. It was only in the last few minutes
of the quarter that any real form was shown, and then it was the
visitor who showed it. An unexpected forward-pass went away for nearly
thirty yards, finding Grafton’s backs and ends asleep at their posts,
and the enemy was suddenly knocking at the gate. However, another
fumble turned the tide before the Grafton defense was thoroughly
tested and the play went back to midfield.
In the second quarter Blake tried out two new plays with poor success
and Ordway made a thrilling sixty-yard run from near his own thirty
that placed the ball on Hollywood’s threshold. Grafton’s supporters,
and they were many today since the whole school had turned out and most
of the village as well, demanded a touchdown and settled comfortably
back in their seats――if they were lucky enough to have seats――to watch
the annihilation of the Hollywood line and the securing of six points.
But nothing like that happened. Hollywood dug her cleats in the turf
and stood strong. Ordway, Winslow and then Caner smashed at the wall
and failed to more than dent it, and the attempted forward-pass across
the line to Tray resulted in a touchback, as Tray never even got a
finger on it. Hollywood kicked on third down from the twenty-five-yard
line and Ordway juggled the ball, finally being thrown for a loss. Two
attempts at the left end netted a scant six yards and Winslow punted.
The kick was short and Hollywood secured it near her thirty-five
yards and began the march that surprised Grafton immensely. Without
losing the ball, the visitors went straight down to Grafton’s eight
yards, using the simplest line-plays and concentrating on Grafton’s
left. Hersum, playing guard for Kinley, was the weakest spot, although
James, at tackle, was not much stronger. The secondary defense worked
heroically, but Hollywood was not to be denied. Hersum gave place to
Little, but still the gains continued and almost before the spectators
realized what was happening the ball was on the eight-yards.
Even then, however, the supporters of the Scarlet-and-Gray refused to
credit the possibility of a score. Longley gave place to Musgrave at
center and Hollywood’s first attempt was thrown back. But a puzzling
pass behind the line followed by a slam at right tackle netted four
yards and backed the defenders to their goal line. Hollywood faked a
forward-pass and the fullback carried the pigskin into Musgrave for
more than half the remaining distance. Another charge by the same back,
with the whole weight of the visitors behind it, did the business after
a long moment of doubt. The ball was no more than across when the
pile-up was disentangled, but in such a case an inch is as good as a
yard. Hollywood missed the goal widely.
Undaunted, the home team rooters cheered and encouraged and told each
other that such a jolt was just what the team was needing to waken it
up. But it had no chance to show whether it was awake or not just then,
for Hollywood gave the ball to Grafton for a kick-off and the half
ended after three plays.
“We’ll tear them up next half,” predicted Milford to Monty as they
followed the others to the field house. “You wait till Bonner gets
through roasting us! We won’t have any hide on us, but we’ll play ball!”
Coach Bonner did do some roasting, but it was not of the hide-detaching
sort. Perhaps the coach realized that he was up against a far better
aggregation of players than had been expected. At all events, he was
not especially severe. Spalding went back to his place at left tackle
when they trotted back to the field, and Derry and Hanrihan likewise
dropped their blankets. Save for the absence of Manson at fullback,
the line-up in the third quarter was the strongest Mr. Bonner could
offer. But it wasn’t strong enough to keep Hollywood from adding
another touchdown to her score, from which, as before, she failed to
kick goal. Nor was it strong enough to get the pigskin nearer the
enemy’s line in that period than her twenty yards. Still, in spite of
the one-sidedness of that third quarter, the home team showed itself
awake and played very good ball. The difficulty was that Hollywood
played better. Just before the period was over Brunswick went in for
Winslow, and it was Brunswick who displayed most of the ground-gaining
ability of the Grafton backs. Ordway was having a poor day and Caner’s
line-smashing looked pretty weak from the side lines. Hollywood mixed
two forward-passes up with a long end-run in the process of securing
her second touchdown and got the ball to Grafton’s twenty-seven yards.
From there she gained two and three yards at a time between tackles,
making two first-downs by inches only. She fumbled on the six yards,
but recovered on the ten. A wide end-run gave her two of what was left
and, on third down, she threatened a drop-kick and then threw forward
directly between the posts for a pretty touchdown. Grafton grumblingly
referred to that play afterwards as “a silly miracle,” and with good
cause, for Caner and Winslow were within arm’s length of the catcher
and the ball simply sped between their four hands and into the grasp of
the Hollywood man.
Grafton lined-up for the beginning of the last period with the score
12 to 0 against her. She started out desperately the moment she got
possession of the ball and tried every means in her power to get down
the field. Caner made a good rush of fifteen yards and Brunswick later
got twelve, but once inside her own territory Hollywood was a difficult
proposition. Her defense against forward-passes was so good that play
netted nothing to Grafton after the second period. Her ends were shifty
and wary and tackled surely. It was evident by this time that if the
home team was to even score she would have to depend on line plunging.
Twice she reached the Hollywood thirty-yard-line and twice she was
forced to punt. Caner came into collision with a Hollywood player soon
after the quarter began and, although he was speedily on his feet again
and went on playing, he had to go off a few minutes later. Monty went
in with some ten minutes of playing time remaining and an overmastering
desire to do something worth while for the fallen fortunes of his team.
But it seemed that the opportunity was not to come to him. An unlucky
combination of off-side playing and an error of judgment on the part of
Weston, who had taken Blake’s place at quarter a minute before, wasted
an advance of many yards and made a punt necessary. What happened to
the middle of the Grafton line then will always remain a mystery.
Monty, playing up in Brunswick’s place to protect the kicker, suddenly
saw what looked to be half the opposing team bearing down on him. He
accounted for one of the invaders, but his usefulness ended then, for
he was promptly knocked down and walked on while the Hollywood players
descended in force on Brunswick before that youth could so much as
swing his leg. He was borne back, ball in hands, and finally toppled to
earth ten yards behind his position, very peevish and still grunting
“Down! Down! Down!” It was a very miserable fiasco, even though the
referee put the ball back to where it had been when Brunswick was
tackled, and it became more so when Brunswick refused to get on his
feet again and was subsequently carried off with a sprained ankle!
Weston was a roaring, rampaging tiger-cat. He was almost crying with
anger as he tongue-lashed the linesmen. “Now,” he ended up shrilly,
“I’m going to make this punt myself, and if a single Hollywood man
comes through this line I’ll hand him the ball and walk off the field!
You’re a bunch of big sniffling quitters! You can’t play football for
two cents! Signals! Kick formation! Weston back! Get in here, Ordway!
Now hold that line, Grafton!”
That time the line held and only an end came swinging around to dispute
the kick. Ordway shouldered him off and the heartening sound of meeting
boot and ball rewarded the anxious watchers. The punt was not long, but
it was nicely placed, and when Hollywood got it she was down on her
twelve yards. She got back to the eighteen only before she was forced
to kick. Then Grafton turned the tables on her and administered some of
her own medicine. It was Pete Gowen who broke through and leaped into
the path of the ball and Derry who caught the pigskin on the bound and
raced nearly to the last white line before he was pulled down.
There were still four minutes of time, and the cheers that thundered
across the stands were heartening. The team lined up, panting,
desperate, on Hollywood’s three and a half yards. Weston gave the ball
to Ordway, but Hobo was stopped in his tracks. Hanser, playing at left
half, got a scant yard through center. Time was called by Hollywood,
and Mr. Bonner took advantage of the wait to send Winslow back. Captain
and quarter conferred a minute. Then the Hollywood invalid was jerked
to his feet again and the whistle shrilled. Winslow listened anxiously
for the signal, and when it came dropped back to kicking position. But
the play was plainly to be a forward-pass, and Hollywood prepared for
one. Monty jumped with the others when the shift was called, and then
the ball sped back to Captain Winslow on a nice pass from Musgrave, and
Winslow poised it in his right hand and edged back and to the right,
apparently waiting for a player of his side to get into position for
the catch. The Grafton line held well, but a tackle got through on
Ordway’s side while Winslow was still edging back. There was a leap
and Winslow stepped aside, the ball still well poised. Monty, hurling
himself at an opponent, saw Derry speeding across behind him. Then,
as Derry reached the dodging Winslow, the ball toppled back over the
edge of the captain’s upheld hand and fell into Derry’s grasp, and the
left end, running like a frightened deer, sped on to the right, sighted
a hole and turned in, dodged a desperate opponent and fairly raced
across the line a yard inside bounds, and was only tackled when he was
half-way around to the goal.
Winslow tried to add another point to the six and failed badly, and
the game went on again. But the time was almost up, and although the
Scarlet-and-Gray tried desperately to convert the Hollywood victory
into a tie, the final whistle soon ended her hopes, and the visitors,
after cheering breathlessly, went contentedly off with the ball.