"Get behind and shove!"
"Shove!"
"Shove! Oh, shove!"
Attack and defense were still crude. The play had gone surging around the opposite end, but in a halting way, the runner impeded by his own interference. Stover, sweeping around at full speed, was able to down the half from behind, just as the interference succeeded in clearing the way. At once it was a chorus of angry shouts, each coach descending on the particular object of his wrath.
"Beautiful!"
"You're a wonder!"
"What are you doing,—growing to the ground?"
"What did I tell you?"
"Say, interference, is this a walking match?"
"Wonderful speed—almost got away from the opposite end."