“You’ll fight right now, behind the gym, Vose; that is, if you’re not afraid to!”
“Afraid! Afraid of you!” Perry flushed angrily. “Why, you—you——” He paused, cast a longing look toward the gate, from beyond which a thunderous cheer broke onto the air at the moment, and then turned curtly on his heel. “Come on,” he said.
VII
Confidence is a fine thing. The only danger of it is that it is likely to get too ripe; in which case it becomes overconfidence and loses battles. And in spite of the late-season loss of Parrett and the eleventh-hour loss of Danforth, Barnstead went on to the field that Saturday afternoon overconfident. Why, it would be difficult to say. There seemed no really good reason for it, for it was well known that St. Matthew’s had more than an average team this year, with, besides, the prestige of more victories than defeats to her credit. Facts are facts, however, explainable or not, and the fact in this case is that the Brown faced its opponent at the kick-off with far too good an idea of its own ability. And when the awakening came it left Barnstead for the moment dismayed and disorganized.
Perhaps it was lucky that the awakening arrived early, in short at the end of the third minute of the play. Bob Peel had taken the kick-off and had run it in fifteen yards. Then two plunges at the Blue line and a dash around the left end had netted but seven yards and Carstairs had punted well into St. Matthew’s territory. Treat, the Brown’s left end, was on the back the moment the ball fell into the latter’s arm and tackled so hard that a fumble resulted. Norman picked up the pigskin on the run and was not stopped until the Blue’s quarterback brought him to earth near the twenty-yard line.
There was great rejoicing on the Barnstead stand and Bob Peel hurried his men into place and threw Carstairs at the middle of the Blue line. But although the fullback gained three yards then and two more on left tackle, it was plain that the St. Matthew’s line was stronger on defense than it had been credited with being. A forward pass failed and Peel chose to kick from the seventeen yards. What happened then was one of those sudden reversals of fortune that make football the uncertain and exciting game it is.
Surber passed low, Carstairs was consequently slow in getting the ball away and half the Blue line came charging through. The ball struck someone and bounded back up the field. A blue-legged forward took it on the bound, eluded the frantic tackle of Dyker, and tore off up the gridiron. For the first twenty or thirty yards it seemed certain that he would be pulled down from behind, for at least four Barnstead players were hot upon his heels. But when he had passed the middle of the field he was virtually alone, and although friend and foe alike trailed after him over one white line after another, he was never headed and so went stumbling, breathless and tuckered, between the Brown’s goal posts for a touchdown.
It had all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly that for a moment Barnstead supporters merely stared at each other, while from across the field came wild pæans of joy from where blue flags waved and tossed ecstatically. St. Matthew’s could hardly fail of kicking the goal and in another minute the scoreboard proclaimed: Barnstead, 0; Visitor, 7.
If the effect on the Brown’s supporters was numbing the effect on the home team itself was, for a few minutes, paralyzing. Surber messed the kick-off and the ball went to the Blue on her thirty-eight yards, from where, playing like streaks of lightning, and using a quick shift that left Barnstead hopelessly at a loss how to meet it, she tore off gain after gain until suddenly the Brown was well back in her own territory, literally digging her toes in the turf in a vain endeavor to stop the triumphant rush of the oncoming adversary. Down near the twenty-five-yard line Barnstead did finally find herself long enough to momentarily stay the Blue. But, finding the opposing line strengthening, St. Matthew’s swept past Shallcross’s end and made its first down on the twenty yards. Three plunges netted short gains and then a long forward pass across the field gave the Blue the rest of her distance. Barnstead made her final stand on her twelve-yard line. The fight she put up then brought back hope to the breasts of her friends. Thrice the Blue was hurled back for less than two yards of total gain and St. Matthew’s was forced to try a field goal. Her kicker went back to the twenty-five yards and dropped the ball easily over the cross-bar for another three points. And the scoreboard changed its legend to Barnstead, 0; Visitor, 10.