“I’m glad I didn’t meet him in Riverside,” thought Joe. “It won’t make it so hard here—when it comes to a showdown. For I’m going to make the nine! The ’varsity nine; if not this year, then next!” and he shut his teeth in determination.
Meanwhile matters were gradually adjusting themselves to the new conditions of affairs at Yale—at least as regards Joe and the other Freshmen. The congenial spirits in the Red Shack, increased by some newcomers, had, in a measure, “found” themselves. Recitations and lectures began their regular routine, and though some of the latter were “cut,” and though often in the interests of football the report of “not prepared” was made, still on the whole Joe and his chums did fairly well.
Joe, perhaps because of his lack of active interest in football, as was the case with his room-mate, Spike, did better than the others as regards lessons. Yet it did not come easy to Joe to buckle down to the hard and exacting work of a college course, as compared to the rather easy methods in vogue at Excelsior Hall.
Joe was not a natural student, and to get a certain amount of comparatively dry knowledge into his head required hours of faithful work.
“I’m willing to make a try of it—for the sake of the folks,” he confided to Spike; “but I know I’m never going to set the river on fire with classics or math. I’m next door to hating them. I want to play baseball.”
“Well, I can’t blame you—in a way,” admitted his chum. “Of course baseball isn’t all there is to life, though I do like it myself.”
“It’s going to be my business in life,” said Joe simply, and Spike realized then, if never before, the all-absorbing hold the great game had on his friend. To Joe baseball was as much of a business—or a profession if you like—as the pulpit was to a divinity student, or the courts to a member of the law school.
The Yale football team began its triumphant career, and the expectations of the friends of the eleven were fully realized. To his delight Ricky played part of a game, and there was no holding him afterward.
“I’ve got a chance to buck the Princeton tiger!” he declared. “The head coach said I did well!”
“Good!” cried Joe, wondering if he would have such fine luck when the baseball season started.