'VARSITY VS. SECOND TEAM
Saunders, who was going around on crutches those days, viewed the advent
of Clint on the 'varsity squad with misgiving, but he was very nice to
him whenever the opportunity occurred. The same was true of the older
candidates for the tackles positions, Trow, Tyler and Crewe. It was
evident to a blind man from the first that Coach Detweiler had made up
his mind that if such a thing were possible Clinton Thayer was to be
converted into a tackle of 'varsity calibre. Hence the other candidates,
especially those who had been practically certain of their positions,
could not be blamed for feeling a little resentment toward both Mr.
Detweiler and Clint. That they refrained from showing it was creditable.
But Clint felt it even if he didn't have optical or auricular evidence
of it and for the first few days at least experienced some embarrassment
and constraint.
But life was too busy to leave him much time for troubling about whether
or not Saunders and the others approved of his presence. His work was
cut out for him from the start. Mr. Detweiler was forever at his heels
and Mr. Detweiler's voice was forever raised in criticism or
instruction. More than once Clint felt like giving up. Toward the end of
that first week it seemed to him that the coach paid no heed to anyone
but just Clint Thayer and that nothing Clint Thayer did was ever quite
right! But he never did give up, however. He was often discouraged,
sometimes angry, always tired out when work was over, but he kept
on trying.
Mr. Detweiler dogged his footsteps every minute, or so it seemed to
Clint. Returning from practice the coach would frequently range himself
alongside and deliver one of his brief lectures. Sometimes he would
intercept him between locker and shower and tell him something he had
forgotten earlier. On Thursday evening Clint found him awaiting him in
Number 14 Torrence when he returned from supper, and, punctuated by
lugubrious wails from Penny Durkin's violin, the coach delivered a
twenty-minute lecture on "The Duties of a Tackle on Offence when the
Play is on the Other side of Centre." Clint got so he dreamed of
football and neglected his studies wofully until both Mr. Simkins and
Mr. Jordan remonstrated. In the Southby game, which was played at
Brimfield, Clint started in place of Trow at right tackle, with Tyler at
left. Offensively he showed up particularly well, but it must be
acknowledged that on the defence he was far from perfect. The Southby
left end was a clever player and Clint's efforts to out-guess that youth
were not very successful. Several times during the two periods in which
he played the runner went over or around Clint for good gains.
Considering it afterwards, it was a surprise to him that he had not been
taken out before he was. Perhaps, though, the fact that Brimfield scored
twice in the first period and so secured a lead that was never
threatened had something to do with it. Probably the coaches were
willing to sacrifice some yards of territory in exchange for experience
for the new tackle. At all events, when, at the commencement of the
third quarter, Clint's name was not in the line-up and Clint bundled
himself in a blanket and took his place on the bench, Mr. Robey paused
long enough to say: "Watch your game, Thayer. You did pretty well."
If Clint did not cover himself with glory, neither, for that matter, did
Trow, Tyler or Crewe, all of whom played at some time during the game.
With Saunders laid off, the tackle positions were the weakest spots in
the line. With most of the line attacks "skin tackle" plays, as they
were that year, the tackle positions should have been the strongest of
all. Only the fact that Southby was weak on offence saved Brimfield from
a beating. Blaisdell and Hall, and, later, Churchill and Gafferty were
forced to aid the tackles to such an extent that they were used up very
quickly. Tyler made the best showing that day of any of the tackles, but
even Tyler was by no means perfect. On forward passes to the opposing
end he utterly failed to get his man, and, since the same was true of
Trow on the other end, Southby made some alarming midfield gains by that
method, while it was Edwards who spoiled a touchdown for the visitors by
intercepting a forward pass on his five-yard line in the third period.
Southby went down in defeat to the tune of 17-3. As last year's score
had been Brimfield 39, Southby 7, there was little encouragement to be
discovered, especially as the Southby team was no better than, if as
good as, the former one. On the whole, that Saturday's contest was
rather disappointing, and when the Sunday morning papers announced that
Claflin had run rings around the strong Mendell Hall team, winning by a
score of 41-6, Brimfield's stock sank perceptibly.
There was a meeting of the coaches that Sunday evening at Mr. Robey's
room in the village. Mr. Robey, Mr. Boutelle, Mr. Detweiler, Andy Miller
and Jack Innes were present, and, although the school never learned what
was said or done, it was felt that strenuous measures had been decided
on. On Monday there was no scrimmage and most of the fellows who had
participated in Saturday's game to any extent were sent two or three
times around the track and then dismissed for the day. The rest were put
through a hard drill in fundamentals, the coaches looking glum and stern
and determined. Clint was not one of the fortunate exempts, but went
through the hardest afternoon he ever had. Of the tackles only Tyler was
absent. The rest of them were bullied and browbeaten and hustled for a
solid hour and a half until Clint, for one, scarcely knew whether he was
on his head or his heels.
It was rumoured around that afternoon that "S.O.S." calls had been sent
out in all directions and that the middle of the week would find an army
of assistant coaches on hand. The army failed to materialise, but by
Tuesday four specialists had joined the array of coaching talent and
there was an instructor for every position on the team. The practice
that afternoon was more grim and businesslike than ever before. No one
was admitted to that part of the field who was not either a member of
the team or a coach. There was thirty minutes of individual instruction,
twenty minutes of signal work, and finally two fifteen-minute scrimmage
periods with the second team. And what the 'varsity did to the second
that day was a pity! With seven coaches urging them on, the 'varsity
players performed desperately. The new plays to be used against Claflin
were tried out and worked well. The 'varsity scored two touchdowns in
the first period and one in the second, and kicked a field-goal when,
with only a minute left, it had reached the second team's eighteen
yards. On the other hand, the second failed to gain consistently inside
the 'varsity's danger zone and both of Martin's drop-kicks went wide.
The 'varsity's defence was better than it had been at any time that
Fall, and even the tackles showed up well.
Saunders had discarded crutches and managed a slow jog once around the
track that afternoon, and it was fully expected that he would be in
shape to get back to work the first of the next week. Clint and Tyler
played through most of that scrimmage, and Clint, unmercifully prodded
by Detweiler--and anyone else who happened to think of it--showed real
form on defence. He was opposed to Captain Turner, of the second, and
Turner was a crafty end. That Clint was able, more than once, to get
around Turner and stop the runner well behind the line spoke well for
him. On forward passes, too, he used his head and twice managed to get
to the receiver and spoil the play. It was a tired lot of boys who
tramped back to the gymnasium that Thursday afternoon at dusk, and there
were many bruises to be seen to, for the two teams had battled as
fiercely as though they had been the deadliest enemies. Clint fell
asleep in the middle of study hour with his head on his Latin book, and
Amy sympathetically let him slumber.
On Friday, contrary to established custom, practice was hard as ever and
the scrimmage with the second was drawn out to forty minutes of actual
playing time. The game with Cherry Valley on the morrow was not looked
on as a difficult one and it was noised about that Coach Robey meant to
put in a full set of substitutes in the second half. The Varsity was
severely tested in defence that day. Five times the second was given
the pigskin inside the 'varsity's fifteen-yard line and instructed to
take it across by rushing and four times they failed. The fifth time,
with the ball on the three yards, they were given two extra downs and
finally piled through Tyler for the last needed six inches. Tyler went
out after that, pretty well worsted, and Trow took his place. Clint had
escaped damage so far, but had been called on to repel many an attack,
and was glad enough when time was called and they were allowed to return
to the bench for a five-minute intermission.
After the rest--if it could be called a rest when seven coaches were
criticising and instructing every minute--the scrimmage developed into
straight football. The second kicked off and, after the 'varsity had
failed to get its distance in three downs, Harris fell back to punt.
Harris was a left-foot kicker and was accustomed to taking a pretty long
stride to the left side before he swung. He was very deliberate about
it, too, and the line had to hold hard and long in order to enable him
to get the ball off safely. When it did go it went well and accurately,
but in the present instance it didn't go. Cupples, of the second, had no
difficulty in getting through Trow, and it was Cupples who knocked the
ball down just as it left Harris' foot. Fortunately Marvin fell on the
pigskin for a fifteen-yard loss.
Harris raged and sputtered and the coaches stood over the unfortunate
Trow and read him the riot act. But two minutes later the same thing
happened again, although on this occasion Cupples only tipped the ball
with his upstretched fingers. There was a hurried conference of the
coaches and Clint was yanked out of the right side of the line and put
in place of Trow, the latter going to left tackle. Mr. Robey demanded a
punt at once in order to test the new arrangement and Cupples, grinning
wickedly at Clint, prepared to repeat his act. But Cupples had the
surprise of his life, for the first thing he knew Clint's right hand was
on the side of his neck and Clint's left hand was under his armpit and
he found himself thrust around against his guard. And that was as near
to breaking through as Cupples came for the rest of the scrimmage.
Four coaches thumped Clint on the back and excitedly praised him, and
Clint felt suddenly that to defeat the wicked machinations of the
ambitious Cupples was the biggest thing in life. After that it was a
battle royal between them, Cupples using every bit of brain and sinew he
possessed to outwit his opponent and Clint watching him as a cat
watches a mouse and constantly out-guessing him and "getting the jump"
time after time. Cupples had a bleeding lip and a smear of brown earth
down one cheek and was a forbidding looking antagonist, and for hours
after practice was over Clint had only to close his eyes to visualise
the angry, intense countenance of his opponent. Had Clint but known it,
he was not a very pretty object himself just then. Someone's boot had
rubbed the skin from his left cheek and the blood had caked there, well
mixed with dirt, until he looked quite villainous.
The 'varsity scored twice by straight football and once by the use of
tricks which were designed to outwit Claflin a week later. The second
managed a field-goal from the fifteen yards. Toward the end the 'varsity
used substitutes freely, but Clint played through to the last, emerging
with many an aching bone, a painful shortness of breath and a fine glow
of victory. Mr. Detweiler, red-faced and perspiring, caught him on the
side line as he dragged his tired feet toward the blanket pile. "All
right, Thayer?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes, sir," panted Clint.
"Good! Get in as soon as you can and have a good rub. You played real
football, boy, and I'm proud of you! Keep it up!"
"You bet I will!" murmured Clint to himself, as he turned toward the
gymnasium. "I'll show Cupples that he can't come through me, the
big guy!"
Ten minutes later, refreshed by his shower, he ran into Cupples outside
the door to the rubbing room. Cupples, a piece of surgeon's plaster
adorning his lip, grinned. Clint grinned back.
"Some game," he said.
"Was it!" agreed Cupples. "Clint, you've got the rest of them all backed
off the map! Saunders hasn't a thing on you, old man, and I've played
against him and know. I hope they keep you there."
"Thanks, Cupples, but if the Claflin chap is any tougher than you are I
guess Saunders is welcome to his job whenever he wants it back."
"Well, say," chuckled the other, "we had a good time, didn't we?"
"Great!" assented Clint.
And, he reflected as he went on, now that it was all over so they had!