I expressed my opinion of Adamson and went back to college, for I ought not to have been out after nine o'clock, because my gating would not finish. But I must say that when the Subby sent for me, and I explained what had happened, he congratulated me on getting my blue, and said that under such exceptional circumstances he would excuse my forgetfulness.
For the next few days I got up and went to bed very early; I ran round the Parks before breakfast, which took me some time and was a most dreary occupation, and I kicked a ball about nearly every day. All of my people went up to town for the match, and Fred and I joined them at the Langham on the Tuesday night. My mother was dreadfully sorry for Fred, and Nina seemed to have forgotten that she was nearly grown-up, and gave herself no airs at all. I think that Fred, who forgave swindles very quickly, found some consolation in the fact that he was going to watch the match with Nina, which would have amused me had I not been so anxious about the morrow.
There cannot be a more cheerless spot in London than the Queen's Club on a foggy December afternoon, but when I arrived there and found that we had got to play in semi-darkness my nervousness almost disappeared.
After being photographed, and running about the ground to stretch our legs, we began, and for some time I should not think a full-back ever had less to do than I had. The game settled down into one long scrimmage, and apart from making a few kicks, which were neither good nor bad, I was almost a spectator, and at half-time I was, in comparison with every one else, quite disgustingly clean. We played towards the pavilion during the second half, and before ten minutes had passed I was covered with mud, if not with glory. The Cambridge three-quarters got the ball, and after a round of passing one of them got a try right behind our posts. Adamson promptly told me that it was my fault, but as a matter of fact Pott had slipped up at a critical moment and left his man unmarked, so I did not get much chance of preventing the try.
After this Cambridge pressed us hard, and I had to fall on the ball continually, which is a dismal performance until one gets warmed up to it. Pott's knee had given way, and though he stayed on the ground and limped about, the Cambridge forwards seemed to be always rushing past him and hurling me to the ground. Luck, however, was on our side, and though they were often on the point of scoring nothing really happened, and at last our forwards got the ball down to the other end of the ground. I hoped for a little peace, but the man who plays full-back and expects such a thing is an idiot. Only a few minutes were left when the Cambridge three-quarters got off again, and, Pott being useless, two men came at top speed for me. Their centre had the ball, and had only to throw it to the wing man for a try to be a certainty. The wing man was an international and about the fastest three-quarter in Scotland, so I tried a little device, which was bad football, though in this case it came off. My only chance was for the centre man to lose his head, and he lost it quite beautifully; if he had only gone on himself instead of trying to pass there was nobody to stop him, for I had made up my mind to prevent the fast man getting the ball whatever happened. I ran in between them, and the centre passed right into my hands; at the same moment the wing man slipped up, and I was going for the Cambridge line as fast as I could. No one being near me I think that I made one of the fastest runs of my life, but not having been blessed with speed I had to pass at last, and I happened to make quite a good shot, for one of our halves got the ball and ran in behind the posts. Adamson kicked the goal all right, and the game ended in a draw directly afterwards.
I don't mind saying that as I walked off the ground I should have been glad if there had been less fog; I had suffered so much after the Cambridge try, that I should have been pleased if everybody had seen the finish; but after all Fred had managed to discover what had happened, and if there had not been a fog, I expect I should not have tried to intercept that pass, for it would have looked quite awful if I had not happened to do it. All kinds of people congratulated me, and Adamson was good enough to acknowledge that I had atoned for my previous mistake; but I could not help wondering what he would have said if the Cambridge man had not happened to make such a bad pass. There was a condescension about Adamson which roused my worst passions, for of all the blues I have seen he was the only one who ever took an insane delight in himself, and unfortunately he belonged to a college which so seldom had a blue, that when they did get one they almost worshipped him.
After the game was over I went back to the Langham, for Fred and I had arranged to go to a theatre with Jack Ward; but I have only the vaguest idea of the performance I watched. I had slept badly the night before, and now that the match was over, nothing could keep me awake, so I had to be given up as hopeless, though Fred gave me an occasional dig with his elbow just to keep me from snoring. By the time the play was over I was properly awake again, and so satisfied with myself, that when I met Dennison going out of the theatre I was even glad to see him.
"Ward told me you were coming here," he said. "What are you going to do now?"
"Going home, I suppose," I answered; but I cannot say that I cared much where I went.
"Let's go to the Parma, there is sure to be a rag on there," he said to Jack, and after some discussion we walked down Shaftesbury Avenue.