“You’re late, Fred,” said Ben sharply. “We’re ready to go out now, all but you. Anything the matter?”
“No—no, nothing the matter,” was the somewhat faltering answer, as Sage began ripping off his clothes, having given Tommy Shea the key to open his locker. “I had—some things to do at home, and I didn’t—I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Lame excuse,” whispered Piper to himself. “Something has happened, sure. He’s in a perfect stew.”
While Fred was hurriedly preparing for the field, Stone called the others around him and talked to them earnestly, laying out a plan of campaign for the first quarter. At first he addressed them all in a general way, after which he singled out individual members of the eleven and gave each one advice and instructions. Ere he had gone through the list Sage was completely dressed for the game and apparently drinking in the captain’s words, although to Piper it seemed that he listened with a distinct effort which betrayed a tendency of his mind to wander.
“Just a word to you, Sage,” said Stone in conclusion. “Keep things moving on the jump. Don’t waste any time over your signals when we’re on the offensive. I have an idea that Barville will try to rush us off our feet at the start, and we mustn’t let them do that. We’ll hammer them hard as we can with straight football to begin with, and hold back our trick plays for use in emergencies. Of course if we quickly get within striking distance of their goal, and they hold us for a down that doesn’t give us a proper gain, you may see fit to try a trick or to work the forward pass. Now come on, everybody; let’s go out with a snap and show that we’re alive.”
From the gymnasium to the players’ entrance of the field was only a short distance, and Ben led his sturdy followers at a swift pace. The visitors were practicing at one end of the field, watched and encouraged by the surprisingly large gathering of Barville supporters who had followed them to Oakdale. As the shocky-haired locals dashed out into the open space they were given a lusty cheer by the majority of the assembled spectators. At once two footballs were put into use by them, and they went at the work of warming up with commendable method and ginger.
It was a hazy autumn afternoon, the sky being overcast with a filmy veil, through which the sun shone with a muffled orange glow. A tempered southwest wind was blowing steadily, but not with sufficient vigor to give much advantage to the defenders of the western goal. For the spectators on the seats, light outer wraps were needed, even though the air was not crisp enough to make first-class football weather.
With their coach watching them closely, the Barville lads were making an impression by their snappy practice, in which short dashes, every man starting fast and running low, seemed to be a particular feature.
Stone took this in at a glance, even while he did not appear to give the rival team as much as momentary attention. It was a reminder, however, that for the past week he had striven constantly to drill into the heads of his teammates the necessity for rapidity in both assault and defence, and the advantage of hitting the opposing line low and hard.
Among the followers of professional sports there can be no such genuine loyalty and enthusiasm as that shown by the adherents of school and college teams; for, as a class, the supporters of such teams are, like the players, heart and soul in the game. In most cases the contestants they are backing and on whom they pin their hopes are known to them personally, which fact establishes between them such friendly personal relations as seldom exist between masses of spectators and professionals; and always a well-earned victory is a thing to be rejoiced over by the satisfied supporter of the triumphant team, like a piece of personal good fortune.