"Thank you," replied Coach Edward, icily. "I might have expected just such a remark from you."
And a very unhappy youth, leaving the Coach's presence with a wave of remorse sweeping over him, knew that now he most certainly had sealed his doom. He could hardly expect to be given an opportunity of playing in the Pomeroy game after this.
Grinnell's football schedule was so arranged that the Pomeroy game was always the last of the year. This permitted the small college eleven to throw its complete strength against an ordinarily more powerful team in the annual hope of creating an upset. For Pomeroy, the Grinnell contest had customarily been booked as a "breather" between big games. There had been little disposition in previous years, as a consequence, to take Grinnell's opposition too seriously. Thus, most of the excitement and enthusiasm had been provided by wide-eyed Grinnell supporters who had hypnotized themselves almost to the point of believing that the impossible was about to happen—a Grinnell victory! That these loyal rooters had been disappointed as regularly as the annual conflicts arrived, did not seem to dampen the ardor of the next season's support. "Hope springs eternal" was the trite but simple explanation offered by certain zealous followers who steadfastly refused to concede Pomeroy's vaunted superiority. Coach Edward's advent at Grinnell had served to heighten the interest when the small college had held Pomeroy to a 20 to 7 count the first year of his mentorship. Things commenced looking decidedly up as Grinnell, under the new coaching regime, came back the following fall with even more stubborn opposition, losing to Pomeroy in the last quarter, 13 to 7. No longer could Pomeroy consider the smaller college a set-up and this alone was sufficient for Grinnell supporters to claim a "moral victory." But even bigger things were expected this season—Grinnell's first undefeated eleven going into its major contest against a Pomeroy team which was fighting hard to sustain its prestige of former years.
Secret practice sessions were announced by Coach Edward the final week before the Pomeroy game, adding an air of mystery and high tension to an already pulsating feeling of suspense.
"Coach has a genius for inventing new plays," Frank Meade, left half, remarked to Mack Carver as the two dressed for practice on Tuesday afternoon. "Don't you think?"
"He figures out some good ones all right," Mack admitted.
"I'll say he does!" echoed Frank, with enthusiasm. "That one he taught us last night—a forward pass breaking out of that lateral!"
Mack's face colored. He was too familiar with this play from having seen it in diagram form on the Coach's desk.
"Yes," he mumbled. "That's a peach."
"If it's properly executed," Frank went on, "it should be good for a touchdown."