“Try it, just the same, lad. If you get stopped there’s no great harm done. But try it. That’s the only way to tell. There you are. Give the nose a good bath in cold water to-night and again in the morning. The lad that handed you that must have near sprained his elbow, I’m thinking!”
Stuart took his damaged countenance to Coach Haynes’ at half-past seven that evening and afforded more or less merriment to the others present at the conference. There were seven of the players there: Jack, Tom Muirgart, Beeman, Wheaton, Howdy Tasker, Leo Burns and Stuart. And The Laird sat in a dim corner and smoked his pipe incessantly and spoke only to answer questions. Fred Locker came in later, out of breath and apologetic. Stuart took small part in the discussion that lasted well over an hour and a half, although both Jack and the coach by word and manner invited his opinions. The fact was that Stuart would willingly have given his opinions had he had any, but, to his surprise, he found that, save on one or two subjects alone he had formulated none. It was Jack who, aside from Mr. Haynes, had supplied suggestion and criticism, who had, it appeared, really given thought to the questions that arose. For the first time Stuart realized how far short of perfect his conception of a captain’s duties had been, and he felt a new, and slightly envious, respect for Jack.
Coach Haynes was very frank in comparing Manning and Pearsall and made no attempt to spare any one’s feelings. “I don’t think Pearsall has much if anything on us in the rush line. Maybe Walworth is a bit cleverer than Cutts. He’s a good example of the light, quick-moving center, very shifty and a hard man to handle on offense. Their right guard is a remarkably good one, too, and Le Gette will have his hands full. As to ends, I’m not troubling. Our scouts report that Cooper, who played left end for them, was boxed time and again Saturday. Of course, we can’t count much on that, for that fault will probably be largely corrected. It’s when we come to the backfield that the comparison goes against us, fellows. There’s no doubt that, as the two teams played three days ago, Pearsall has a faster, heavier and more aggressive set of backs than we have. Connor, their right half, is an unusually fine player. He made most of their running gains for them and did a lot better against the St. Charles ends than we did. Morton, fullback, is big and heavy and hard to stop. He failed to gain just three times against St. Charles when he bucked the line. At runs outside tackles he’s a bit slow. Loring, the left half, is good but not so dangerous as Connor. Their quarter is experienced and runs off a fast game. He seldom carries the ball himself.
“Pearsall will use about the same plays she used last year, from all the information we have. She has probably a couple of aces up her sleeve, but so have we. She hasn’t developed forward passing much and hasn’t been very successful so far with that style of game. Her punters are ordinarily good. There are weird stories of Loring having made sixty yards frequently in practice but he’s never shown anything of the sort in public. There’s no doubt, however, that he owes his place on the team more to his punting ability than to his running. So it may be that he’s the nigger in the woodpile.”
“You think then, sir,” asked Muirgart, “that Pearsall has the edge on us?”
“Surely. I think she’s at least six points better than we are to-day. Mind you, though, I say to-day, Muirgart. Next Saturday’s another day. Frankly, I’d rather go into a game of this sort with the odds against us a bit. We’ll realize that we’ve got to fight harder and we’ll do it. We can beat Pearsall. I don’t say that just as a bluff. I mean it. We can beat her and we’re going to. We’re going to do it by getting the jump on her right at the start, by making no mistakes and by always, everlastingly trying a little bit harder than she does! Every fellow must go into the game with the determination to outplay his opponent and the conviction that if he really tries hard he can do it. Fellows, I’ve seen teams that were admittedly two scores weaker than their opponents go in and fight and fight and win. I’ve seen it time and again. It’s spirit that does the trick. Teach two teams the same amount of football, have them physically even and put them on the field. What’s going to happen? A tie game? Not once in ten times! One team or the other will have the better spirit and will win the game! Well, let’s get down to business.”
They went over the plays then, discussing, arguing. Every play was judged with relation to Pearsall’s style of defense and her success against such plays during the season. In the end nineteen only were retained. As each could be pulled off at both right and left of center Manning would have at her disposal thirty-eight variations. All reasonable contingencies were brought up and disposed of. Stuart was questioned regarding Le Gette’s probable usefulness as a field goal kicker and gave an encouraging report. “He ought to be tried out in a game to-morrow, though, Mr. Haynes,” Stuart added. “Kicking a goal is a different thing when half a dozen wild Indians are charging through on top of you!”
“I’ve been waiting for the word from you,” replied the coach. “We’ll give him a trial to-morrow and every other day until Saturday. What’s the news of Towne, by the way, Laird?”
The Laird took his pipe out of his mouth and shook his head.
“He’ll not play, Coach, save you put him in at the end for a bit. And I’m thinking that’s not so wise, for he has his letter already.”