"Ram into it!"
"Knock that man over!"
"Knock him over!"
He went into the line blindly, frantically, feeling for the first time that last exhausting, lunging expenditure of strength that is called forth with the effort to fall forward when tackled. Nothing he did satisfied. It was a constant storm of criticism, behind his back, in his ears, shrieked to his face:
"Keep your feet—oh, keep your feet!"
"Smash open that line!"
"Rip open that line!"
"Hit it—hit it!"
"Hard—harder!"
"Go on—don't stop!"