Bert Wilson on the Gridiron

by J. W. Duffield

"O, those dyed-in-the-wool football fiends don't care for a little thing like that," said Dick. "We'll never play to empty benches, no matter what the weather. But hurry up now and come down to breakfast. We won't dare to eat very much at lunch and we'd better fill up now."

It was Thanksgiving Day, and the Blues had come up to New York the night before, so that they might have a good night's rest before the most important game of the season. The game was to be played at the Polo Grounds and public interest was so great that all the seats had been sold out long in advance. It was a foregone conclusion that the vast amphitheater would be crowded to capacity when the teams should come trotting out on the gridiron.

The excitement was the greater because of the superb form shown by both teams all through the season. Seldom had competitors been more equally matched. Both had come through their schedules unbeaten, and the shrewdest followers of the game were hard put to it to pick a winner. Even the games played by each with the "Maroons" did not give much of a line. The "Greys," to be sure, had made two touchdowns, while the Blues had only tallied one. But, on the other hand, the "Maroons" had scored on the "Greys," while the Blues had been able to keep their goal intact. The "dope" was perplexing and the wisest tipsters were all at sea. Man for man, the "Greys" had a slight advantage in weight. But the Blues were admitted to have the finest backfield in the country, and Wilson was "touted" as the greatest player seen at full for the last twenty years. All in all, it was a "toss up," and many predicted that neither side would score.

But no such neutral tint shadowed the rosy dreams of the Blues. They were full of fight, and brimming over with confidence. All their cripples had come back except Ellis, who was just able to limp around without a crutch. But Morley in his place had rounded to in great shape and there was scarcely a shade to choose between the two. Boyd's knee, hurt in the game with the "Maroons," was all right again and, best of all, good old Hodge was back again at right tackle, having at last made up his conditions. He plugged up the only really weak place on the team, and made the line twenty per cent. stronger than it had been without him. For all these reasons the team felt itself unbeatable, and were eager for the hour to come when they might prove it. Even Dan, the old bulldog that served the team as a mascot, moved about with unusual alacrity and seemed to have caught the contagion.

"He's actually smiling," declared Tom, as he patted him affectionately. "It's up to you to bring us luck to-day, old fellow."

Hendricks and Reddy, although delighted to see the way the boys were feeling, felt it incumbent to add a word of caution.

"You're going to win, boys," said the former; "but you'll have your work cut out for you. Those fellows are never easy, and there'll be something doing every minute. Get the jump at the very start, and keep forcing the fight. Go in for straight football until you feel them out, and don't resort to the 'fireworks' until you have to. And keep your eyes on that quarterback of theirs. He's one of the trickiest in the game and always liable to start something."

"Not forgetting the full," added Reddy, "they say he's as big and strong as a bull elephant, and it's aching he'll be to stack up against you, Wilson."

"Let him come," grinned Bert. "I'll try to make it interesting."

Even New York, big and indifferent as it is to most things taking place within it, was agog with interest over the contest. The front pages of the papers were devoted to a review and comparison of the teams, and bulletin boards were prepared for the great crowds expected to gather about the offices during the progress of the game. Broadway and Fifth Avenue were alive with flags and the college colors, and the lobbies of the hotels were packed with a swarming mob of undergraduates. Tally-hos with merry parties and tooting horns rolled up the Avenue, and hundreds of automobiles joined in the procession. The subways and elevated roads were crowded to the doors, and at one o'clock, although the game did not begin till two, there was not a vacant seat in the vast stadium, while thousands of deadheads seized every point of vantage on the bluffs that surrounded the grounds. The stands were a perfect riot of beauty and color, and the stentorian voices of the rival rooters, to which was joined the treble of the girls made the air echo with songs and shouts of defiance.