The upshot of this was that the forwards, who in the parent English game have only an incidental connection with the running of the backs, become a part of each successive play, opening up the way for the progress of the ball. According to the English code, this made our forwards off-side, so that the rule had to be changed to fit the new practice. It then appeared that if the forwards could play ahead of the ball, the backs could do so too; and here you have the second great American feature. The result of "possession" of the ball and "interference" is an elaborate and almost military code of tactics unknown in the English game.
In the course of time I had unusual facilities for observing English Rugby. During the Morrison wine which ended the season of tubbing on the river, the captain of the Balliol fifteen threw his arms about me, and besought me to play on the team. He had not a single three-quarters, he said, who could get out of his own way running. I pleaded an attack of rheumatism and ignorance of the game. He said it did not matter. "And I'm half blind," I added. "So am I," he interrupted, "but we'll both be all right in the morning." I said I referred to the fact that I was very near-sighted; but he took all excuses as a sign of resentment because he had failed to invite me to breakfast in my freshman term; he appeared to think it his duty to breakfast all possible candidates. Such are the courtesies of an English captain, and such are the informalities of English training.
The next morning the captain wrote me that there was a match on against Merton, and asked me to come out a quarter of an hour before the rest for a little coaching. A quarter of an hour to learn to play football! In spite of the captain's predictions of the night before, I was not so sure that he was yet "all right;" so I went out to the porter's lodge and scanned the bulletin board. My name stared me in the face. I had scarcely time to take luncheon and don a pair of football shorts.
The practice my coach gave me consisted in running the length of the field three or four times, passing the ball back and forth as we went. His instructions with regard to the game were equally simple. To keep in proper position I had only to watch my Merton vis-à-vis and take a place symmetrical with his. When the enemy heeled the ball out of the "scrummage" to their quarter-back, putting us for the moment on the defensive, I was to watch my man, and, if the ball was passed to him, to tackle him. If he passed it before I could tackle him I was still to follow him, leaving the man who took the ball to be watched by my neighbor, in order that I might be on hand if my man received it again. An American back, when his side is on the defensive, is expected to keep his eye on his vis-à-vis while the ball is being snapped back; but his main duty is to follow the ball. An English back under similar circumstances is expected only to follow his man. If our side happened to heel out the ball from the scrum and one of our three-quarters began to run with it, we were on the offensive, and the other three-quarters and I were to follow at his heels, so that when he was about to be tackled—"collared," the English say—he could pass it on to us. There is, as I have said, no such thing as combined "interference" among the backs. A player who gets between the man with the ball and the enemy's goal is rankly off-side. It is not to be understood that the captain coached all this information into me. I had to buttonhole him and pump it out word by word. Coaching of any sort is all but unknown on English football fields. What there is of the game is learned at school—or in the nursery!
AN ENGLISH RUGBY LINE-UP
To the left of the scrum, two half backs and six three-quarter backs face each other in pairs
When the opposing teams scattered over the field for the kick-off, I noticed with satisfaction that there was not a spectator on the grounds to embarrass me. It is so in almost all English college games—the fellows are more than likely to have sports of their own on, and anyway, what is the use in hanging round the fields where other fellows are having all the fun?
On the kick-off, luckily, the ball did not come to my corner of the field, for I could scarcely have seen it, much less caught it. Our side returned the kick and the "scrum" formed. The nine forwards gathered compactly in a semi-ellipse, bent their bodies together in a horizontal plane, with their heads carefully tucked beneath the mass, and leaned against the opposing mass of forwards, who were similarly placed. When the two scrums were thoroughly compacted, the umpire tossed the ball on the ground beneath the opposing sets of legs, whereupon both sides began to struggle. The scrum in action looks like a huge tortoise with a score of legs at each end, which by some unaccountable freak of nature are struggling to walk in opposite directions. The sight is certainly awe-inspiring, and it was several days before I realized that it masked no abstrusely working tactics; there is little, if anything, in it beyond the obvious grunting and shoving.
The backs faced each other in pairs ranged out on the side of the scrum that afforded the broader field for running. The legs in the Balliol scrum pushed harder and the bodies squirmed to more advantage, for our men had presently got the ball among their feet. They failed to hold it there, however, and it popped out into a half-back's hands. He passed it quickly to one of my companions at three-quarters, who dodged his man and ran toward the corner of the field. I followed, and just as the full-back collared him he passed the ball to me. Before I had taken three rheumatic strides I had two men hanging at my back; but when they brought me down, the ball was just beyond the line. The audience arose as one man—to wit, the referee, who had been squatting on the side lines—and shouted, "Played. Well played!" I had achieved universal fame. During the rest of the game the Balliol scrum, which was a very respectable affair of its kind, kept the ball to itself, while we backs cooled our heels.