CHAPTER XIX

A GAME WORTH SEEING

The second Saturday in February dawned anything but encouragingly. The

night before a blizzard had set in, and at one o'clock Saturday

afternoon the temperature had dropped almost to zero. The wind howled

and shrieked dismally, and to venture out meant to nurse frozen ears as

a result of facing the blast. But neither wind nor weather frightened

the enthusiastic basketball fans. With knitted and fur caps pulled down

over their ears they gallantly braved the storm. Even the majority of

the faculty were in the front seats that had been reserved for them and

by two o'clock every available inch of space in the gallery was filled.

The sophomore colors of blue and gold mingled with the red and white of

the freshmen colors in the decorations that were displayed lavishly

about the gymnasium. The faculty, too, wore the colors of their

respective favorites, while the president of the college held two

immense bouquets, one of red, the other of yellow roses, showing that he

at least was impartial. On each side of the gallery a group of girls

stood ready to lead their respective classes in the basketball choruses

that are sung solely With the object of urging the teams on to deeds of

glory. These choruses had been written hurriedly by loyal fans who had

more enthusiasm than ability as verse writers, and fitted to popular

airs. The fact that they possessed neither rhythm nor style troubled no

one. The main idea was to make a great deal of noise in singing them,

and nothing else counted.

The freshmen and sophomore substitutes were the first to emerge from

their dressing rooms on either side of the gymnasium, dressed in their

respective gymnasium suits of black and blue, the sleeves and sailor

collars of which were ornamented with their colors. They were greeted

with a gratifying burst of song from both sides which lasted until they

took their places, eager and alert, ready to make good if the

opportunity presented itself. After a brief interval the dressing room

doors opened again and the real teams appeared. This time the burst of

song became so jubilantly noisy that the president of the college half

rose in his seat as though to signal for order, then, apparently

changing his mind, settled himself in his chair, smiling broadly.

Immediately the song ended the referee's whistle blew and the great game

began.

From the moment the ball was put in play it was plain to the spectators

that this was to be a game worth seeing. The sophomores, with Virginia

Gaines as center, adopted whirlwind tactics from the start and the

freshmen did little more than defend themselves during the first half,

which came to an end without either side scoring. That the freshmen

could hold their own was evident, and when the whistle blew for the

second half the freshmen in the gallery applauded their team with

renewed vigor.

During the brief intermission Grace and Miriam had clasped hands and

vowed to outplay the sophomores in the second half or perish in the

attempt. The three other members had thereupon insisted on being

included in the vow, and when the five girls trotted to their respective

positions at the sound of the referee's whistle, it was with a

determination to stoutly contest every inch of the ground. Luck seemed

against them, however, for the sophomores scored through the clever

playing of Virginia Gaines. The freshmen then set their teeth and

resolved to die rather than allow the enemy to score again. Then Miriam

secured the ball and dodging and ducking this way and that she passed

the ball to another player who made the basket and the score was tied.

This put the sophomores not only on the anxious seat, but also on their

mettle, and try as they might the freshmen found themselves unable to

pile up their score.

The end of the second half crept nearer and the score still remained

tied. Grace, who was becoming more and more apprehensive as the minutes

passed, stood anxiously watching the ball, which was being played

perilously near their opponents' goal. Catching the eyes of Miriam, who

stood nearest it, Grace made a desperate little upward motion. Miriam

understood and redoubled her efforts to secure the ball, which she

finally did by springing straight up into the air and intercepting it on

its way to the basket. A shout went up from the freshmen which grew to a

roar. Miriam had thrown the ball unerringly to Grace, who caught it, and

facing quickly toward the freshman goal, balanced herself on her toes

preparatory to tossing her prize into the basket.

"She'll never make it," groaned a freshman. But her remark was lost in

the clamor.

With one quick, comprehensive glance, Grace measured the distance, then

with a long, swift overhand toss she sent the ball curving through the

air. It dropped squarely into the basket, bounded up in the air, then

dropped gently into place.

[Illustration: Grace Measured the Distance.]

For the next few minutes pandemonium reigned in the gymnasium. The happy

freshmen burst into song and drummed on the floor in expression of their

glee. The freshmen team had outplayed that of the sophomores. Only once

before in the history of the college had such a thing occurred. To Grace

Harlowe and Miriam Nesbit was given the principal credit for this latest

victory. Grace's goal toss had been a record-breaker. Never had a

freshman been known to make such a toss.

Now that the excitement was over, Grace felt suddenly weak in the knees.

She started for a seat at the side of the gymnasium, but before she

reached it there was a rush from the freshman class. Her classmates

lifted her to their shoulders and began parading about the gymnasium

floor, singing:

"Nineteen---- is looking sad,

Tra la la, Tra la la,

I wonder what has made her mad,

Tra la la, Tra la la,

Her coaching was in vain,

The freshman team has won again,

Little sophomores, run away,

Come again some other day."

Then there followed a song that brought a shout of laughter from

hundreds of throats, and one in which the sophomores did not join:

Backward, turn backward, O ball in your flight,

Why did you drop in the basket so tight?

Sadly the sophomores are rueing the day

They asked the freshmen in their yard to play,

Sophomore banners are hung at half mast,

Sophomore tears they are falling so fast,

Sophomore faces are turned toward the wall,

Sophomore pride has had a hard fall.

Grace had been seized and carried around and around the gymnasium on the

shoulders of her exulting classmates, who sang lustily as they marched,

then gently deposited her in the dressing room. Miriam also had received

that honor. When the two girls left the dressing room twenty minutes

later, they were taken charge of by a delegation of admiring freshmen

and informed that there would be a dinner given that night at Vinton's

in honor of them.

An air of deep gloom pervaded the sophomore dressing room, however.

Virginia Gaines dressed in gloomy silence. One or two of her team

ventured to speak to her. She answered so shortly that they did not

trouble her further, but went out talking among themselves as soon as

they had changed their gymnasium suits for street clothing. Outside

Elfreda waited impatiently. "I thought you were never coming," grumbled

the stout girl. Then the unpleasant side of her disposition, which she

had tried to eliminate during her brief friendship with the Oakdale

girls, came to the surface and she said maliciously: "I thought you said

they couldn't play, Virginia. Funny, wasn't it, that you had such a poor

idea of their playing? It was the best game I ever saw, but all the star

playing was on the freshman side."

Virginia's face grew dark. "Stop trying to be sarcastic," she stormed.

"I won't stand it. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you. I'm not deaf," returned Elfreda dryly. "As for

standing it, you don't have to. Good-bye." Turning sharply about she set

off in the opposite direction, her hands in her pockets, a look of

intense disgust on her round face. "That's the end of that," she

muttered. "I'll move to-morrow. This time it will have to be out of

Wayne Hall, unless----." Then she shook her head almost sadly: "Not

there," she added. "She wouldn't have me for a roommate."

Grace Harlowe's First Year at Overton College · 第 19 / 24 章