A SHAKE-UP
Coach Cade was back on Monday for dinner, and to one or two especially
observant members of the squad he looked more grim and determined than
usual. Instead of sending the squad out to the field at three-thirty
that afternoon he talked to them in the gymnasium for some twenty
minutes. First he took up Saturday’s game and went through it
exhaustively, pointing out mistakes and short-comings. He started with
center and worked through guards, tackles, ends and backs, and it was
surprising how many faults he managed to mention. Finally he said:
“Now, fellows, I’m going to talk plain. We are all in this together.
If I fail in my duties it affects you, and if you fail it comes back
on me. You want to win your games and I want you to, and if you’re to
do it you and I have got to team up and pull side by side from now
on. There’s no getting around the fact that so far we’ve made a poor
showing. You will have to look back over the Alton football records for
many years before you’ll find a season as disappointing as this has
been so far. We’ve played four games and won just one. Not only that
but, against pretty weak teams, we’ve managed to score only 40 points
to the opponents’ 31. You don’t need to have me tell you that there’s
something wrong somewhere. I wish I could tell you what it is, but I
can’t. I’m willing to assume half the responsibility, though, for I
have a hunch that I know one way in which I’ve failed this fall. I’ll
take that up in a minute. What I’m getting at now is that it’s up to
all of us to face the situation and determine to get the best of it.
It’s a time for drastic measures, and I want you to realize it. We
can’t defeat Kenly Hall if we keep on the way we’re going. I’m certain
of that, and those of you who have played here in other seasons know it
too. All right, then. We’ve got to stop taking things for granted and
prove them. That’s what we’ve been doing, fellows, taking things for
granted. Both of us. That’s the mistake I spoke of a minute ago. You
are taking it for granted that you’re going to be able to play winning
football when you get up against Kenly. Probably you know yourselves
capable of it. I think you are capable of it. I’m taking it for
granted, too. That is, I have been. Beginning to-day, though, I’m not.”
He paused and looked over the half circle of puzzled faces before
he continued. “Beginning to-day, fellows, no one is going to hold a
position on this team because he filled it last season, or because he
thinks himself entitled to it through previous service, or because he
shows promise. Nor for any other reason save just one, which is that he
proves conclusively to my satisfaction that he is the best man for the
job. This goes from top to bottom, from Captain Lowe to the greenest
man on the squad. Captain Lowe may be the best man for the right guard
position; probably he is; but he’s got to show us, you and me both. So
on right through the line-up. You may be all you think you are, all you
ought to be, all I’ve been accepting you as, but, by golly, you’ve got
to prove it. No position is sacred any longer, fellows. If Smith wants
Jones’ job all he’s got to do is go and get it. It’s his if he can play
a better brand of football than Jones. Theoretically this has always
been the rule here, this year as well as other years, just as it is
the general rule at other schools and colleges. Actually, however, it
hasn’t been working very thoroughly, and that’s my fault. Some of you
have--well, hypnotized is the best word I can think of--have hypnotized
me into accepting you at your own valuation, into thinking as you do
that you own your positions. Well, yesterday I woke up. I saw that I’d
been taking far too much for granted. Here’s where I stop being an easy
mark, fellows. And here’s where all mortgages are canceled. How’s that
hit you?”
Some of the countenances before him looked rather dazed, others showed
grins, but no one replied for an instant. Then Captain Lowe said
calmly: “Suits me, Coach!” And other murmured agreements followed.
“Good! We’ve got material here plenty good enough to build a winning
team out of, fellows. Let’s do it. Let’s start to-day and build from
the bottom up. There’s time enough. The material’s seasoned, only the
arrangement will be new. Wistar, got a sheet of paper handy? All right.
Put down the names of the fellows, all of them, and classify them as
usual: linemen, ends, backs; and let me have the list when we go out.
There’s one more thing I want to speak of. There’s been far too much
fumbling going on. A certain amount of it’s to be expected at this
season, but we’ve been overdoing it. Saturday’s game was lost through
a fumble, and there were two others which, while recovered fortunately
enough, shouldn’t have occurred. I want to get rid of that stuff, and
if necessary I’ll go back to a half-hour of passing every afternoon.
But I think it’s possible to cure weak fingers in another way. You’ll
remember how in the poem of The Ancient Mariner the man who shot the
albatross had it tied around his neck as punishment. Well, I propose to
adopt a somewhat similar plan. After this too many fumbles will result
in the offender carrying a football around with him wherever he goes:
classes, meals, off the campus, everywhere; and at night it will sit
beside him on a chair at the head of his bed. This isn’t an original
idea; it’s been tried before; but I think it ought to work. Will you
fellows agree to it and make it effective?”
Agreement was hearty. The idea amused them and, since the discourse
had hitherto been too serious to allow of levity, they laughed
uproariously. Mr. Cade smiled, too, but the smile was rather grim.
“That’s all, fellows,” he said. “Let’s go out and make up for lost
time.”
That afternoon practice went off as usual on a Monday, with the accent
on formation drill and the players in Saturday’s game being excused
thereafter. The Second Team engaged a team of substitutes and won
handily in two ten-minute periods. Bert played right half in the first
period and gave way to Keys in the second. Neither of them performed
any deeds calculated to raise their stock, yet Bert found encouragement
in the fact that Coach Cade had selected him to start the scrimmage.
That made it look as if in the coach’s estimation he and Keys were
about on a par.
A rather garbled and exaggerated version of Mr. Cade’s remarks
circulated about school that evening, and the reactions were varied.
Many dubbed the scheme as suicidal, declaring it too late in the
season to start a reorganization of the team. Others favored the plan,
sometimes remarking vindictively that it would serve some of those
swelled-heads about right if they lost their positions. Then still
others met the news with a pessimistic shrug. It didn’t much matter,
they thought, what Coach Cade did. In any event the team was too
rotten to be saved and another defeat at the hands of Kenly Hall was
inevitable.
Tommy Parish got the tidings from his room-mate, Billy Pillsbury. Pill
was much excited and predicted disaster. Tommy said: “Soak your head,
Pill. Johnny’s got the right idea at last. I was wondering how long it
would take him to tumble to himself.”
Pill stared incredulously. “Aw, get out, Tommy! You never thought of
it! I suppose you’ll be saying next thing that you suggested it to
Johnny!”
Tommy shrugged. “No, I didn’t suggest it to him, but I might have. All
fall fellows like Andy Dozier and Hop Meecham and others I could name
have been sitting pretty and doing just enough to get by. They sure had
Johnny buffaloed! They couldn’t have done it another season, but this
year Johnny has too much on his mind.”
“How do you mean?” asked Pill, impressed in spite of his determination
not to be. “What’s he got on his mind?”
Tommy winked soberly. “A girl,” he answered.
“Oh, piffle! That’s just a yarn. Some fellow saw a photograph on
Johnny’s mantel and started that stuff.”
“All right, Mister Wisenheimer, you know it all. But you just wait and
see. Pshaw, I know the signs! I’ve got brothers and sisters, Pill, and
I know how they act when they’ve got the bug. It’s fierce!”
“Well, even if that’s so,” said Pill, “Johnny’s making a bull. You
can’t make over a football team right in the middle of the season.
Gosh, what do you suppose will happen if he gets to monkeying with some
of the guys? They’ll get mad and quit on him cold!”
“Don’t you be alarmed,” answered Tommy calmly. “There won’t be as many
changes as you might think, son. Let some of those fellows get it into
their beans that they’re going to lose their positions if they don’t
brace up and they’ll brace, take it from me! Bet you there won’t be
four changes in the whole line-up between now and the big game! What
will happen, Pill, is that the whole bunch of loafers will get onto
themselves and do an honest day’s work now and then! You watch, young
Pill.”
The immediate result was a rather different line-up on Tuesday when
scrimmage began. Kruger had Tate’s place at left end, Nat Wick was
at left guard in lieu of Meecham, Toby Shelfer played right end, and
Fitz Savell had Storer’s job at half-back. As the game progressed
other changes were made. Howard went in for Haines at right tackle,
a practically unknown youth named Walsh sent Jim Galvin out and Bert
relieved Pete Ness at right half. Nor was Mr. Cade through even then,
for, when the scrimmage was almost over, he grabbed a tackle from the
Scrubs and put him in Andy Dozier’s place. Results were not easy to
judge, but at least the First showed more downright fight than it had
exhibited for some time. It pushed the Scrub down the field for sixty
yards in the last period and finally hurled Walsh through for a score.
Since the Scrub had met with a stronger resistance than usual that
touchdown represented the day’s scoring.
On Wednesday Mr. Cade used two teams against the Second, one for each
ten-minute period, and each grabbed off a touchdown. Bert played right
through on the second line-up--it was difficult to say whether it was
Mr. Cade’s second choice or his first, regulars and substitutes were so
mixed together--and got a nice thirty-yard romp on one occasion that
might have resulted in a score if Don Riding, playing quarter, had not
fumbled. Back in the locker room that afternoon the expressions of
doubt and even consternation on some of the faces might have amused
a disinterested bystander. Jake, the trainer, came nearest to that
character, and Jake smiled more than once while he administered to
contusions and strains and listened to the talk.
It became noised about on Thursday that Mr. Cade would pick the team to
play Oak Grove according to the performances that afternoon, and not
even Tommy Parish could--or did--complain of indifference or lassitude
on the part of the candidates. Some of the regulars--or those who had
been regulars--moved around with the nervous, anxious alacrity of new
hands, trying to impress the coach with their energy and ambition
against the time when the line-up for the scrimmage with the Scrub
should be announced. Even Captain Jonas looked almost perturbed at
moments. He had heartily agreed to Mr. Cade’s plan, but he sometimes
wished he hadn’t. Jonas wasn’t used to trying to impress folks as being
eager and full of pep! It came hard!
Mr. Cade drove the First hard that afternoon, and almost every fellow
on the squad saw service before the end. Second was given the ball on
the First’s thirty-yard line a number of times and told to rush it,
field-goals being barred. Once the Scrub scored on a short pass over
the line, but the other times she was forced to yield the ball short
of the goal. She was on her mettle to-day and the First Team linemen
underwent some hard knocks. For that matter, so did the backs, for
there was a weak place on the left of the line that continued all
during the scrimmage, and more than once it was the secondary defense
that stopped the runner. Bert played for some six or eight minutes in
the last period, and, although First was showing what she could do
on attack during most of that time, he was used pretty roughly and
finally emerged with a fine large welt under one eye. As an exhibition
of playing Thursday’s performance was distinctly encouraging, but as
an indication of what Saturday’s line-up was to be it was a failure.
Even on Friday the coach used three or four men for every position,
and surprised his charges by staging a fifteen-minute scrimmage
against the Scrub. Certainly Oak Grove was not a fearsome opponent,
but such hard work the day before a game was well-nigh unprecedented.
It was on Friday that Bert flashed for an instant when, pulling down
a twelve-yard forward-pass over the right of the line, he squirmed
and fought onward for sixteen more before superior weight and numbers
brought him down. In that run he showed a really remarkable ability for
eluding tacklers and throwing off tackles, for he went through half a
dozen of the enemy and squirmed away from others like a greased pig.
And yet, some two minutes later, when the same play was repeated he
failed badly at getting into position for the catch and the ball was
plucked out of the air by the Scrub full-back. Fortune, it seemed, was
a fickle goddess!
Chick was difficult to live with during the closing days of that week,
for he had been spending much of his time on the bench and resented
it bitterly. Bert’s reminder that a lot of the others were faring the
same way and that, once Mr. Cade got through experimenting, they’d
probably all be back in place again failed of the soothing effect it
was designed to produce. Chick didn’t think well of experiments, and
said so in unmistakable language. “What’s it getting him?” he demanded
that Friday evening. “He’s tried Shelfer and Nast and Savell, and not
one of them has played the position as well as I do. Oh, maybe Savell,
yes, but he’s not such a wonder on defense. He got boxed finely a
couple of times to-day. Johnny will put me back there finally, and he
knows it plaguy well, so what’s the use of letting me miss practice? I
haven’t been in once when that Number 14 play was tried. They’ll use it
to-morrow and then wonder what’s wrong if I don’t get the right man!”
“I don’t believe he’s in earnest about Fitz Savell,” said Bert. “He
wouldn’t spoil a corking good back.”
“Of course not! Then what’s the good of making believe? He’s just
losing time. The whole truth of the matter is that Johnny’s up in the
air and doesn’t know what to do about it. So he’s just fiddling around
in the hope that he will light on something. If he would teach us about
four good scoring plays and quit monkeying with his delayed passes and
fake kicks we’d deliver the goods, I’ll bet!”
“That Number 14 looks pretty good, though, Chick. It fooled the Scrub
all right yesterday and to-day.”
“The Scrub? Sure! But just let him try it against a wide-awake team
like Mt. Millard a week from now. Why, they’ll eat it up, Bert! There’s
nothing new about it. It’s old stuff to them, I’ll bet.”
“No, it isn’t new,” said Bert, “but I heard Ted say that it has new
features.”
“Tackle coming around and going through with the two halfs may be new,
but I don’t believe it makes the play any better. Besides, what’s the
idea of working it from a shift? You can do the same thing from regular
formation. Shucks, I’ve been seeing that old trick ever since I was
knee-high!”
“I guess what you can call new plays aren’t to be had any more, Chick.”
Bert was glad enough to argue this matter out if only to keep Chick
away from his grievance. “Most everything’s been done already, and
about all a coach can hope to do is dress an old play up in new togs so
it’ll look like a stranger. I don’t believe Johnny will let us use that
Number 14 to-morrow, anyway. I think he’s going to save it for Kenly.”
“He’s pretty sure to try it on Mt. Millard, because Mt. Millard will
take a lot of licking, old scout. And I’ll bet Mt. Millard will love it
to death, too! Anyway, if he does use it to-morrow it won’t be my fault
if I flub it. He hasn’t worked me in it once.”
“Oh, you can’t miss, Chick. Defending left half’s your meat. All you do
is block him off.”
“Just the same, I should have been in on it at least once,” responded
Chick, evidently determined to be displeased. “No fellow can learn
a play just by watching it from the bench or tagging along with the
gallery!”
But, as it turned out, Chick needn’t have worried himself, for the next
afternoon at two-forty-five Mr. Cade gave out the line-up for the Oak
Grove game and Chick wasn’t mentioned.