BEFORE THE BATTLE
When the boys awoke to find themselves in the western city, the seat of
Jefferson College, a great crowd was on hand to meet them. They were
mostly Lowell Alumni who lived in the towns in the West. Many of them
had traveled hundreds of miles to attend the game, and win or lose,
cheer for Lowell. A number of the members of the team were greeted
at the station by their fathers and mothers and sisters who had not
seen the boys since the holiday vacation. Then there was also a fair
sprinkling of sweethearts to greet them.
There was nobody to meet Hal, for his folks couldn’t afford to come all
the way from California. His father’s illness, however, had not been
serious and he had gone back to his work and was thus able to send Hal
his original allowance, so the boy’s worry about money was over. In
fact, he had money in the bank, for Hans had a long talk with Hal after
the Alumni game, and had convinced him that it would be a good time to
show a little thrift, so Hal had put his one hundred and twenty-five
dollars in the bank, and Hans had gotten him to agree not to touch it
until it was absolutely necessary. He had never had a bank account
before and he was proud of it, now that he had started. He had not
written any more stories for the _Out Door Weekly_, because Hans had
made no more trips to New York.
Seeing most of the fellows talking to parents, sisters or sweethearts
gave Hal a touch of homesickness, but it was not for long, as presently
the whole team was gathered into a half dozen waiting automobiles and
driven through the streets and out to the Jefferson Club House, which
was within the grounds occupied by the Stadium. Here the boys could
bathe and limber up during the morning hours for the game, which was to
begin at two o’clock.
On the way to the club the automobiles made a detour of the streets,
including a trip past the college buildings and the fellows had an
opportunity to get an idea of the extent and grandeur of this wonderful
western college. There were quite as many buildings as at Lowell, and
they were much finer in many respects, but the newness did not make you
think of classic halls and college traditions as did the old ivy-clad
buildings at Lowell. In years to come this might possibly be said of
Jefferson, but it takes time to build up a college and only age can
bring to it the loved traditions such as were associated with Lowell,
and the boys were glad that they were enrolled as students in the older
and more famous university of the East.
Jefferson College had been founded but twenty years before. A very
rich man had endowed it with millions and added more millions every
year. The best teachers that money could secure were obtained and the
college had done remarkable things for the boys who entered it, but
no amount of money they could spend could give that which Lowell had
spent more than a hundred years to acquire--recognition as the greatest
seat of learning in the country. But the western college was proud of
the remarkable progress she had made in so short a time and she was
reaching out in every way, hoping that some day she would overtake and
pass her great rival.
Naturally athletics was selected as one of the chief fields of effort.
Her managers knew that athletic supremacy would give the college the
greatest prestige. Championships in the different branches of sport
would attract students, and with a full roster of students, year after
year, it was thought to be only a question of time when all the rest
would come to her.
So they had built a magnificent athletic field costing over a million
dollars, the finest equipment in the country. There were enough seats
to accommodate 50,000 people, and every seat was taken at the big
games which took place there, for the people of this Western city were
proud of their college, as they had a right to be, and they made up
attendance what Jefferson lacked in alumni, and they “rooted” just as
hard for their college as they would have had they graduated from the
beautiful though as yet not classic halls.
The rivalry between the two schools was therefore keen, even though one
was, in baseball at least, the defender and the other the aggressor.
Lowell came to Jefferson as the recognized champion in both baseball
and football this year and of two teams evenly matched, Lowell would
have the slight advantage which champions always have and her games
were usually conducted with this advantage in mind.
Jefferson on the other hand had still to win the championship and was
fighting hard for a reputation. She was inclined to conduct her games
desperately, to try by the force of brawn to overthrow the champions.
For this reason the annual struggle over the Baseball Championship
stirred up a lot of excitement and this excitement was felt throughout
the city.
On the day of the great game, business houses closed early and everyone
talked baseball. Everybody that could get in went to the game. Many
were always turned away, for even the vast amphitheater seating fifty
thousand was not big enough. After all the seats had been filled and
ten thousand others were let on the field to sit on the grass or stand
for two hours through the contest, the gates would be locked and no
more could get in.
Long before ten o’clock the streets surrounding the field were crowded
with people standing in line hoping to get one of the choice seats,
many of which were not reserved. At eleven o’clock the gates were
thrown open and for more than an hour the people poured into the
grounds in a steady stream. By 12.30 the stands were full and ten
thousand or more had been let out on the field below the stands to sit
in cramped positions on the ground or stand with aching legs through
the great game. If anyone in that crowd got tired standing, he didn’t
show it.
At one o’clock the two teams emerged from the club house to make the
annual march across the field to the benches reserved for players. They
were preceded by a band of sixty pieces. Jefferson College wore white
uniforms and maroon stockings and sweaters, Lowell wore gray uniforms
and green stockings and sweaters, for the home players always wear
white. As they came marching across the field, both teams abreast in
one single line, the crowd in the stands arose and began to cheer.
Hal and Hans looked ahead of them at the thousands who had been crowded
out onto the field. Neither of them had ever before seen such a crowd
to say nothing of playing ball before so many people. In two thirds
of the stand, from the extreme left way over almost to the visitors’
bench, nothing could be seen but a mass of white and maroon. Back of
third base from where they approached, the maroon gave place to green.
As they came nearer they could see the white places represented white
shirt sleeves or ladies’ dresses or straw hats. The maroon they saw
was the color of Jefferson in the form of thousands of flags, banners,
and handkerchiefs, while the green on the left was caused by the green
of their own university proudly worn by more than ten thousand Lowell
men. On the field the crowd was mixed, maroon and green and white, for
here there were no reserved spaces. Each had to shift for himself and
in the effort to find the best place to see the game and have the most
possible fun, maroon mixed freely with green even before the game began.
Down in front of the Jefferson players’ bench sat the Jefferson Singing
Club which led the singing and yelling for the Western school, while in
front of the visiting players’ bench near third base could be seen the
Lowell Organized Noise Club.
As they approached the home plate, the Jefferson team turned to the
left and the Lowell team to the right and after the teams had reached
their respective benches the Jefferson Singing Club arose and placing
their megaphones to their lips began singing
“FAIR LOWELL.”
Gradually the volume increased as the first base stands took it up,
and as the Lowell students and adherents recognized the first notes of
their dear old College Song, they quickly joined in and sixty thousand
voices were singing in one chorus. As soon as the song was finished
the singing coaches started the Lowell yell; for several minutes the
familiar
Well! Well! Well!
Yell! Yell! Yell!
Spell! Spell! Spell!
L--O--W--E--L--L
Oh! Well! Oh! Well!
Go Tell! Go Tell!
Everybody we’re from LOWELL
echoed and reëchoed over the field.
Then, just as the last echoes were thrown back from the distance, the
Lowell boys, not to be outdone by the delicate compliment of their
rivals of their own accord also, struck up the Jefferson song,
ALMA MATER.
More quickly than before it was taken up by the vast audience, because
they were now on the alert, the band joined in and for five minutes
more the resounding notes of the Western song were thrown upon the air
from sixty thousand throats to be followed by the familiar Jefferson
yell, which made the biggest noise of all because more of the crowd
were familiar with it.
J--E--EFF
J--E--EFF
J--E--EFFERSON
JEFFERSON JEFFERSON
RAH ROW RAY RI REE RAW RUN
That’s the music for JEFFERSON.
Then for the forty minutes of practice allowed the team, the Jefferson
crowd, the band and Lowell’s representatives in turn sang their best
songs, and gave their yells, all but the band, of course, which in this
instance made less noise and also less music than any one of the three,
if you can ever call noise music.
Jefferson would start her baseball song going to the tune of “Maryland,
My Maryland.”
Thy sons are battling for thy name
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
They go to die or win this game
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
Give them your cheers in loud acclaim
Help them to-day withstand the strain
And they’ll add glory to your fame
Jefferson, dear Jefferson.
The Champions are our foes they say
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
For twenty years they’ve blocked our way
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
We have a team to cause dismay
To any nine that tries to play
Baseball with this big school to-day
Jefferson, dear Jefferson.
We’ve got the lads who hit the ball
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
Where Lowell boys are not at all
Jefferson, dear Jefferson
We’ll make those Champions look small
We’ll hit them over the outer wall
And raise that rag on Chapel Hall
Jefferson, dear Jefferson.
And just as soon as they had finished, the Lowell contingent would cut
loose with their version of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
The Lowell team is on the job
Her nine is fit and strong
She has got the boys who hit the pill
And they’ve been champions long
She’s better this year than ever before
She’s never yet been wrong,
So let the game go on.
_Chorus_
Here’s three cheers for good old Lowell,
Here’s three cheers for good old Lowell,
Here’s three cheers for good old Lowell,
So let the game go on.
We’ve seen them come and seen them go,
For twenty years or more;
They never yet have beat us,
When they came to add the score.
They have tried to steal our signals
They have worked till they were sore,
So let the game go on.
_Chorus_
For Lowell’s got the pitchers,
And we’ve got a back stop true
The infield is a bunch of stars
The outfield’s nifty too,
They’re all .300 hitters,
And you’ll meet your Waterloo,
So let the game go on.
_Chorus_
Presently the chosen umpires, Sel. O. Lafflin of American College and
Robert M. S. Lee, of National University, came onto the field. They
consulted with Hughie and Church, agreed upon the ground rules, and
presently Lafflin, who was to umpire behind the bat, stepped to the
plate and then turning to the stands said:
“Ladies and Gentlemen: The batt’ries for to-day’s game are--For Lowell,
Black, pitcher and Gibbs, catcher. For Jefferson--Mellen, pitcher
and Brest, catcher; Black and Gibbs for Lowell; Mellen and Brest for
Jefferson. Play ball.”
[Illustration: “Ladies and gentlemen! The batteries for to-day are----”]
Quickly the Jefferson players arose from the bench and trotted out onto
the field. The Lowell boys on their bench stirred nervously, eager to
get into the fray. Everson carefully selected his favorite bat from the
row of them which was on the ground before the bench and stepped to the
plate.
There wasn’t a sound to be heard on the grounds or in the stands.
Everywhere was silence. Mellen stood there in the pitcher’s box, the
new white ball in his right hand, eying Everson with intense scrutiny,
trying to solve what his greatest batting weakness might be. Everson
looked back at Mellen, waiting, perhaps a little nervous but with a
look of determination on his face. He stood at the rubber, his feet
slightly apart, his bat firmly grasped, his head to one side as if
listening, but his eye on the white round thing in Mellen’s hand, and
he never took his eye off that ball. The game was about to begin. The
first ball pitched might decide the game. His turn at bat if successful
might win it, his failure to do just what Hughie had instructed him to
do might lose the game. Mellen began to wind up. He pulled back his
right arm, twisted himself, looking back of him; he turned back again
facing the batter; he brought forward that strong right arm of his, the
ball started toward the plate, a white streak. The game had begun.