CHAPTER VI
IN PRACTICE
There was a crisping tang in the air. The wind had in it just the hintof winter, but the sun shone bravely down and glinted on the green grassof the football field--a field marked off in white lines, so meaninglessto one not familiar with the game, yet so full of meaning to a player.
Soon what a struggle there would be to cross those same whitelines--especially the last, whereon were the goal posts, and to gainwhich every last ounce of strength, every atom of breath, every nerveand sinew that could be urged to lend speed to the runner would becalled upon to do the utmost that the ball might be shoved over for atouchdown.
Now, however, the gridiron of Randall College lay peaceful and quietunder the October sun. The grass seemed to shiver in the breeze, as ifin anticipation of the struggles it would soon have to bear.
The silent grandstands were but waiting the cheering, yelling, singing,sport-maddened and enthusiastic throngs that would shortly occupy them,to cause them to sway as in a gale with the stress of their applause, toecho to the thunder of thousands of stamping feet.
But now the gridiron was deserted. It was like a battle-field whereonhad taken place many a conflict, but which, like the arena of old, hadbeen swept and garnished with sand, effacing the marks of strife, thatthose who came might not see them. It was all ready for the next battleof brawn, practice for which would soon take place.
Out from the gymnasium came rushing a crowd of lads--in canvas trousersand jackets, and in sweaters, the shoulders of which bulged with greatleather patches. Some of the warriors had on leather helmets, and othersswung rubber nose-guards from their arms by dangling strings.
"Line up! Line up!" came the cry.
"Come on for some punts!"
"Hey, Phil, send out some drop kicks!"
"Pass the ball!"
"Fall on it! Fall on it!"
The lads were racing about, leaping and jumping. Some were punting,others sending the ball swiftly around by a quick arm and hand motion.Still others, in the excess of their exuberance, were wrestling ortackling.
For it was the first day of practice with the newly-organized team, andeveryone was anxious to see what the result would be. Kerr had gone fromRandall, after an affecting good-bye to his classmates, bearing with himtheir sincere wishes that his father would speedily recover, and that Edwould return.
Bricktop, for the first time since the season had opened, was withouthis football togs, and he felt it keenly. But once he had made up hismind, he decided to forget practice, though he consented to stay onabout a week, and help Mr. Lighton coach Snail Looper in his work behindthe line.
"Here you go, Tom!" called Sid, and he sent a puzzling spiral down thefield. The plucky left end was down after it like a flash, extending hisarms to gather it in. So swift was it, however, that it went rightthrough his grasp, and bounded on the grass. Tom, like a flash, fell onit.
"Good!" cried the coach, who seemed to be watching every preliminaryplay, though regular practice had not yet been begun. "That's the way todo it."
There was some warm-up work, while Mr. Lighton and Dan Woodhouseconsulted, and while the captain of the scrub was getting his mentogether. Then came the cry again:
"Line up! Line up!"
"We'll play a ten minute half," said the captain, and he glanced at alist in his hand. "Here's how the 'varsity will line up," he added."Tom Parsons will play at left end, Bert Bascome at left tackle, SamLooper at left guard, Holly Cross at centre. Billy Housenlager will beright guard. I'll play at right tackle, as usual. Joe Jackson will be atright end, and his brother can try it at full-back, only I wish he'd puton more weight. Phil, you'll go to quarter. Pete Backus will play righthalf-back, and Sid Henderson at left half. Now, I guess that completesthe team. Get in line and see what we can do."
"And remember what I told you about fast, snappy playing," cautioned thecoach. "I'm going to have the scrub do its best to make a touchdown onyou, so watch out. Line up!"
The ball was placed in the centre of the field, and, as the 'varsitywanted to get into offense as soon as possible, the scrub was to kickoff.
"All ready?" asked Ned Hendrix, who was captain of the scrub, as helooked across the field to see how his own players were bunched.
"All ready," answered Kindlings.
Ping! That was the nerve thrilling sound of the toe of Hendrix's shoemaking a dent in the side of the ball. Straight and true it sailed, andinto the arms of Jerry Jackson it fell.
"Now, fellows, come on! Make up some interference for him! Don't letthem get through on us!" yelled the captain of the 'varsity, as theJersey twin tucked the ball under his arm, lowered his head and startedback with the pigskin.
Before him ran his fellows, and speeding toward them came the eagerscrub, thirsting for tackles. Jerry managed to run back twenty yardsbefore he was downed, and as the two teams lined up for the firstscrimmage, the coach shook his head rather dubiously.
"The scrub is a bit quicker than the 'varsity, I'm afraid," hewhispered. "I've got to whip them into shape. Well, now to see how theytear through the line."
Phil Clinton was kneeling down behind Holly Cross to receive the ball.He gave a quick glance behind him, and decided to try out the mettle ofPete Backus.
"Seventeen--eighty-four--readynow--twenty-two--four--sixteen--eighty-three," counted Phil, but beforehe had called the last number he had given the signal for the ball tocome back.
It was for Pete to take the pigskin in between tackle and guard, and, ashe received the leather, Pete made a spring through the hole that wasopened for him. He gained two yards, seeing which the coach murmured:
"He's got the strength, but he needs to be a bit quicker. Well, we'vegot time enough to get speed out of him, I guess."
The piled-up players slowly emerged from the heap, and Kindlingswhispered to his new man:
"Good work, old fellow. That's the way to tear through them."
Phil was already calling off the next signal. He had found that quick,snappy work in beginning the signal, even though it was not quite yettime for the play, had the effect of somewhat demoralizing the otherplayers, and also hastened the actions of his own men. Once more theball went to the Grasshopper, but he failed to gain, and was thrown fora slight loss, for the scrub players were eager in breaking through.
"That won't do," objected the captain, gloomily.
"I--I didn't know he was going to give it to me so soon again," spokePete, pantingly.
"You must always be ready," was the comment.
Phil was calling for a kick now, on the last down, and Joe Jacksondropped back for it. The ball was sent out of danger, but coach andcaptain shook their heads. The 'varsity had not gained as much ground asthey should have done.
"Better luck next time," said Kindlings hopefully.
"Your men need it," responded Mr. Lighton.
It was now the turn of the scrub to see what they could do, and theyquickly formed over the pigskin, while their quarter-back called off thesignals. At the sturdy line of the 'varsity, they plunged, trying totear a hole between the left guard and tackle. They had quickly foundthe weakness of Pete, and Bert Bascome was not a tried warrior of thegridiron. The scrub penetrated for a couple of yards, and then, seeingwhat the danger was, the other players massed their strength there, andstopped the advance of the man with the ball.
Again the scrub hurled themselves against the line, trying on the otherside this time. They could not gain, and Joe Jackson dropped back toreceive the kick he expected would come.
But the scrub's quarter gave the signal for a fake punt, and when the'varsity had spread out, the right half-back was sent forward with theball. But they did not gain what they expected, for Kindlings, ever onthe alert for a play like that, was watching, and, cleverly dodgingthrough the interference, he downed the man with the ball in a fiercetackle. The scrub had gained their distance, however, and still hadpossession of the pigskin.
"Hold 'em this time!" begged the captain, as he got r
id of some dirtthat had been ground into his mouth under his nose-guard.
And hold the 'varsity did after that. Not an inch could the scrubgain, for the wall in front of them was like stone, and they wererelentlessly hurled back. Twice they tried it, and on the third downthey kicked--no fake affair now.
The 'varsity had the ball again. Phil did not try Pete this time, butgave the leather to Sid, who, like an old time warrior, lowered his headand plunged into the line for three yards.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled Phil, pushing and pulling on his chum to helphim through. There was a mass of crowding, struggling players all aboutSid. The scrub, with desperate energy, tried to stem the progress of thehuman tide. Still Sid worked on, worming to get every inch, and he brokethrough the scrub line, staggered on and on, and when he was finallydowned, with half a dozen of the players clinging to him like hounds toa stag, he had gained three yards, through a hard defense.
"Wow! Wow!" yelled Bean Perkins.
"That's what I ought to have done, I suppose," murmured Pete,regretfully, as he saw what a gain Sid had made.
"Oh, you'll do it yet," said Tom consolingly. "It takes a littlepractice. Those fellows are out for blood to-day. A lot of them arehoping to get on our team."
"Well, they won't!" declared Pete, and when he was given a chance withthe ball a little later, he tore through for a two-yard gain in greatfashion.
The 'varsity was now playing fiercely, and had the "measure" of thescrub. Those unfortunate lads tried in vain to stem the human torrent.The first team had the ball, and were not going to give it up. Down theline they rushed, shoving the second lads to one side--bowling themover.
"Touchdown! Touchdown!" came the cry when the five-yard line wasreached. "Touchdown!"
And a touchdown it was, Sid being pushed and dragged over the line. Ittook eight minutes of play to make it, though, and the scrub felt intheir hearts that they had done good work, as indeed they had.
There was another line-up, after a kick-off, and the scrub had anotherchance to show what they could do, but they failed to gain in twotrials, and kicked. Then the 'varsity once more had the ball, and in thelittle while remaining to play, for the half had been lengthened tofifteen minutes, they rushed it up the field. A forward pass was tried,but did not work well, nor did an onside kick, and Mr. Lighton wiselydecided to defer these plays until the team worked together better instraight football.
"Well, what do you think?" asked Kindlings, as he walked to thegymnasium with the coach.
"It might be worse," was the non-committal answer. "But they all meanwell, and as soon as Sam and Pete get more confidence, they'll dobetter. But--oh, well, what's the use of crossing a bridge until you getout of the woods, as Holly Cross would say. We have a game with Newkirkin two weeks, and if we can't beat them, even with the team we have----"
"We'd better go out of business," finished Dan.
"Exactly," agreed the coach, with a shrug of his shoulders.
The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 6
