“DO YOUR BEST”
Friday dawned fair and warm, and Willard, looking forth from a window
while dressing, smilingly pictured McNatt, far afield, gathering
mushrooms from the sunlit meadows. One thing, however, was certain,
Willard reflected, and that was that the enthusiastic McNatt would
never induce him to partake of that mushroom supper! Yesterday he might
perhaps have taken a chance, but today life was too well worth living.
In the afternoon, contrary to custom, there was a hard and prolonged
scrimmage between the first and second teams. Ordinarily the day before
a contest was given over to formation drill, with only a brief line-up,
but today, with Lorimer Academy looming dangerously ahead, Coach Cade
couldn’t afford to be lenient. One radical change in the first team
line-up was apparent when the two teams faced each other. Arnold Lake,
the regular left half-back, was at left end in place of Sanford, and
Mawson was at left half. Doubtless it was only an experiment and
might not prove satisfactory, but Willard saw, with a quickening of
his pulse, that if the change became permanent he would be one notch
nearer the realization of his hopes. With only Mawson and, perhaps,
Moncks ahead of him, the position of first substitute was just over
the horizon. And events that day certainly fostered optimism, for
before the practice game was over Mawson was relegated to the bench and
Willard took his place. For something like ten minutes life was very
strenuous for him. The first was thrice given the ball on the second’s
twenty-yard-line and thrice failed to take it over, although Coach
Cade stormed and Gil Tarver commanded and Captain Bob Myers implored.
The second fought desperately and would not yield the final few feet.
In those assaults Willard played his part well, making up in speed
and aggressiveness what he lacked in weight. If he didn’t perform any
outstanding feat, at least he gained as certainly as Cochran, beside
him, and more surely than Steve Browne, again restored to full-back
position for lack of a better man. The nearest thing to a mishap
befalling Willard was his failure to hold a short forward-pass over
the left of the line that might possibly have produced the desired
score. But he was sorely beset and, jostled and badgered by the second
team backs, he could not make the ball secure after it reached him.
That came in the last attack, and afterwards, when Cochran’s desperate
attempt at the left of center had failed to carry him over by two feet,
the ball was given to the second and Greenwood, standing behind his
goal, kicked to safety. It is quite possible that Willard looked for
some slight expression of commendation from captain or coach when the
whistle blew, for he was under the impression that he had done none
so badly for a first appearance on the big team, but the only mention
of his part in the fracas that he heard was made by the quarter-back.
Probably Tarver had no intention of being unkind, but his regrets
haunted Willard for the rest of the day.
“Too bad you couldn’t hold that forward, Harmon,” Tarver said on the
way back to the gymnasium. “Gee, we’d have had a score sure if you had!”
Seeking sympathy, Willard repeated the remark to Martin that evening,
expecting Martin to tell him that it wasn’t his fault and that Gil
Tarver was unreasonable. But Martin only shook his head as he replied
cheerfully: “Yes, it was a shame, Brand. Still, I don’t believe first
would have scored. Gil threw too short and you were five yards from the
line.”
“We-ell,” said Willard, “you think I ought to have caught it?”
“What? Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve got to be mighty quick to
get your hands around a forward or else you’ll miss it. And it’s a heap
easier than it looks, usually.”
Willard went to sleep that night somewhat disheartened by the
conclusion that Fortune had given him an opportunity to prove his
ability and he had failed. Doubtless, he thought, another such
opportunity would be long in coming. He lived over that disastrous
attempt to catch the forward-pass and wondered whether, had he leaped
an instant sooner, he would have held it; whether, in short, anything
he could have done and didn’t would have insured success. He tried to
comfort himself with the reiterated assertion that no one, not even
Captain Myers, whose work on the receiving end of forward-passes was
phenomenal, could have done any better, but he fell asleep before
reiteration produced conviction and passed through a number of
unpleasant dreams before he awoke again to a bright and brisk October
morning.
Lorimer was always an uncertain quantity when it came to the yearly
gridiron contests with Alton, and, since the red-legged invaders had
nosed out a victory over the Gray-and-Gold last fall, it was held to
be highly desirable that a conclusive defeat be handed them on the
present occasion. And there appeared to be no good reason why Alton
shouldn’t win, for, while Lorimer was well coached and knew plenty of
football, she had sustained two defeats so far this season and had but
one victory to her credit.
To Willard, observing proceedings from the bench, sandwiched between
Martin and Ned Richards, the playing of Lake at left end again brought
renewed encouragement. At least it was evident that Mr. Cade believed
well enough of the experiment to give it a thorough trial, and all
during the game Willard rooted hard, if silently, for the ex-half-back
and prayed that he would make good as an end! Lorimer took the kick-off
and at once showed her running ability when a tow-headed right half
reeled off nearly thirty yards before Cochran brought him down. The
enemy showed several novel variations of old plays and twice made first
down before she was finally forced to kick on Alton’s forty-two yards.
She was master of the shift and sent her plays at the long or short
side of the line with beautiful and confusing impartiality. Also,
her backfield was composed of slim, fast and elusive youths who had
a remarkable faculty of slipping out of the opponents’ clutches. In
brief, it became apparent during the first few minutes of play that the
home team was destined to have her hands full that afternoon and would
be supremely fortunate if she kept her goal-line inviolate. The first
quarter, however, passed without either team reaching scoring distance.
There was much punting, at which Alton was slightly superior, and many
attempts at end running by Lorimer, some of which succeeded. Only one
forward-pass was tried, and that, by the enemy, went wrong and landed
the ball in Alton’s hands. The latter made her distance five times and
Lorimer four, and at the end of the first twelve minutes an unbiased
critic would have said that on performance the opponents were about
equal. He might have added, however, that the Red somehow gave the
impression of having more in reserve than the Gray-and-Gold, and if he
had said so he would have been proved correct by future events.
Alton started a brave advance in the second period and, with Cochran
and Mawson alternating on attacks between tackles and Gil Tarver
scampering around the ends, thrice made it first down in enemy
territory. But on Lorimer’s twenty-seven yards, Lake became too eager
and Alton was set back for off-side, and after a futile attempt to make
up the lost ground, Tarver fell back and kicked to the three yards.
Lorimer punted on second down and the pigskin fell into Tarver’s hands
in midfield and that hustled back seven yards before he consented
to stop. Alton took up the journey again, while some three hundred
brazen-throated adherents cheered encouragingly from the stand. Halted
on the thirty-six, Browne threw overhead to Joe Myers and Joe caught
brilliantly and was toppled for an eight-yard gain. Lake, skirting
around, took the ball from Tarver and tried hard to make good on the
farther side, but was run back for a two-yard loss. Another forward
grounded, and Tarver, with twelve to go on third down, faked a kick and
carried outside right tackle to Lorimer’s sixteen for the distance.
The Gray-and-Gold shouted jubilantly and chanted her desire for a
touchdown. But, although Mawson got three through Lorimer’s left and
followed it with two more off tackle on the other side, again Fortune
turned her thumb down. Stacey Ross was caught holding and a stern
referee paced the pigskin back an interminable fifteen yards. Tarver’s
run from kick formation failed to fool the enemy and he regained but
twelve of the fifteen. Perhaps a forward-pass would have gained the
distance, but Tarver chose to try for a field-goal, and, standing near
Lorimer’s twenty-five-yard line, he held out his hands while the stands
grew still. The angle was not severe and if Leroy, at left tackle, had
held firm, the quarter would probably have scored three points that
later in the day would have loomed large. But Leroy gave before the
desperate onslaught of the foe and Tarver was hurried. The ball had
height and distance, but not direction, and passed a foot to the right
of the nearest upright.
The half ended a minute later with the pigskin in Lorimer’s possession
near her forty.
Willard trotted back to the gymnasium with the rest and hugged the
knowledge that Arnold Lake had shown himself a valuable man at the
end of the line. Willard could have told you almost every move that
Lake had made during those twenty-four minutes of playing time! Coach
Cade was sparing of criticism today, for no glaring faults had been
apparent and the fighting spirit had been evident. He did warn against
infractions of the rules, however, pointing out that had it not been
for Ross’s holding Alton would now be at least six points to the
good. “We lost thirty yards by penalties, and Lorimer lost only ten.
The twenty yards’ difference may mean the loss of the game. Guard
against being off-side, fellows, and against holding. Don’t let’s make
the opponent any gifts! You’ve got to fight harder this half and run
your plays off quicker. You’re up against a heady bunch of fellows and
you’ve got to outwit them as well as outplay them if you’re going to
win. I want to see the backs start a little quicker and hit the line
with more steam. That applies to you especially, Browne. You have a
rotten tendency to slow up at the line, just when you should be going
the hardest. You miss two and three yards regularly on every play by
that sort of thing. See if you can’t put more slam into it!”
Five minutes later they were back again, greeted by the longdrawn
“A--l--t--o--n! _A--L--T--O--N!!_ A--L--T--O--N!!!” from hundreds of
throats. And, when the Gray-and-Gold-striped players had spread down
the field for the kick-off, there came the sharp, rifle-shot cheer of
A-L-T-O-N! A-L-T-O-N!! A-L-T-O-N!!!
Win! Win! Win! Win! Win! Win! Win! Win!
It was nip-and-tuck for the first half of that third period, with
neither team making headway and the ball in air half the time.
Alton’s forward-passes failed whenever tried, for Lorimer had a
really brilliant defense against that play. From one thirty-yard line
to another the battle raged, Lorimer making up for Alton’s slight
superiority at punting by a better end attack. Gains through the
line were not forthcoming to either team. Lorimer began to use her
substitutes and Coach Cade followed her example by sending in Martin
Proctor for Ross. Just before the period ended Gil Tarver gave way to
Hutchins at quarter-back. There was no scoring and the whistle piped
with the ball in Alton’s hands on her opponent’s thirty-eight.
While the referee carried the ball across the center and the players
gathered about the water pails Willard heard his name called and looked
down the bench to see Mr. Cade beckoning. His heart turned a complete
somersault--or seemed to--while he traversed the eight yards and halted
before the coach!
“Harmon, you’ve showed a pretty fair knack of getting away outside
tackles,” said Mr. Cade. “Do you think you could manage to do it if you
went in there now?”
Willard was conscious of the players on either side of the coach,
could feel their slightly amused glances on him and knew they were
waiting intently for his answer. He felt supremely awkward and
embarrassed at that moment. But he had to say something, for Mr. Cade,
although he was watching the players assembling again, was awaiting a
reply.
“I’ll try, sir,” he managed.
Mr. Cade nodded. “Won’t promise, eh?” He looked up then into Willard’s
face, and the boy was vastly relieved to see that his eyes were
twinkling. “All right, go ahead,” said the coach. “Your right end looms
the easiest, Harmon. If you can get that left end of theirs to play
wide for a forward-pass you ought to be able to get started. Do your
best, boy,” Mr. Cade nodded again, smilingly.
“Left half, sir?” asked Willard, through the folds of his sweater,
which simply wouldn’t come off.
“Left half,” responded the coach.