“Suppose we do. It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”
“Not when I was captain! That’s where the trouble is. When you’re captain and responsible for the success of the team it’s a lot different, I tell you, Gerald. Why, if Broadwood beats us this fall I’ll feel like tying a dumb-bell to each foot and jumping into the Sound!”
“Don’t be an idiot, Dan! You can’t do any more than your best. If we get beaten after that it won’t be any more your fault than—than mine. You get that notion out of your head or I’ll have to put you in a sanitarium before the season’s over.”
“And maybe I’d be mighty glad to go,” sighed Dan.
“I don’t see what you’re so pessimistic about,” said Gerald. “We’ve got a good start for a new team, and all that sort of thing.”
“I know, but—well, I’ll tell you, chum. We’ve won from Broadwood two years running, and I’ve got an idea that the other fellow is about due for a victory. We never have won three times in succession, and it doesn’t seem likely that we will now. I wish we’d lost last year’s game, or the one before that. It’s fighting against the Law of Averages, whatever that may be!”
“Pshaw! We said the same thing last year, I remember. Yardley had won the year before and so it was Broadwood’s turn. Maybe it was, but Broadwood missed her turn. She will miss it again. Why, look here, Dan, there isn’t any good reason why we shouldn’t win every year for the next century!”
“Oh, well, there’s no use worrying about it now, I suppose. As you say, Mr. Pennimore, a fellow can only do his best. I’ll do my best and the Law of Averages can take care of itself. I hope, though, there will be a nice big bunch of candidates on the field to-morrow. You know, Gerald, I’ve always believed that many a good football player has been lost for lack of a chance to show his hand. I’ll give every fellow a fair try-out. And if any of the last year men think that they’re certain of their places they’re fooled. For they’re not. Everyone of them has got to work hard or go to the bench.”
“I’m coming out, you know, Dan.”