Forward Pass: A Story of the "New Football"

by Ralph Henry Barbour

There had been a full week of cold weather and the tennis courts were well-nigh deserted. Canoes were hauled into the boat-house and even the golf links was for the nonce uninhabited territory. The school played football and talked football and very likely dreamt football. Kilts—I am speaking of Professor McIntyre, you understand—had occasioned intense indignation throughout the Second Class a few days before by sending the captain of the Second Class Eleven to the office for drawing diagrams of football plays at recitation. This, declared the class, was an act of tyranny. The captain had been kept from practice for a space of one week in order, according to Mr. Collins, that he might have time to make up his mathematics. The Second Class, however, declared bitterly that it was in order that they might be beaten by the First. “Kilts” added to his unpopularity, but seemed to bear up with wonderful fortitude under his disgrace.

The varsity eleven had journeyed abroad and had wrested victory from defeat in the last few minutes of play in the game with Carrel’s School and a week later had piled up seventeen points on Porter Institute. The latter game was played on Yardley Field and in it Dan had had his baptism by fire, going in in the last five minutes of the contest after both Williams and Norton had been hurt. He had little to do, as it happened, and no chance to distinguish himself. On Monday he had gone back to the Second Team again just as though nothing eventful had happened. That was a disappointment, for he had hoped that after playing on the First he would be retained as a substitute. But there was too much going on to allow him time for regrets. Football practice now was hard and fast. The preliminary season was at an end. Payson was no longer teaching the rudiments of the game, but football in its higher branches; advanced football, as one might say. The team had been drilled into a pretty stiff aggregation on defense and now new plays were receiving attention and the offense was being developed.

That meant hard work for the Second Eleven, hard work and hard knocks, too. There were times when Dan told himself that it was a pretty thankless job, this standing up just to be knocked down again and walked on by the First Team. But that was when he was tired and aching and after the First had pushed them around the field at its own sweet will. For the First was getting to be very obstreperous those days, and felt pained and grieved when it couldn’t score at least twice on the Second in a thirty minute scrimmage. But Dan wouldn’t have yielded his place at the right end of the Second’s line for anything that anyone could offer him. He had beaten out Sayer for the position and he meant to hold it. And, besides, they had a pretty good time together, the fellows of the Second. By mid-season a spirit of camaraderie had taken possession of them and they were really closer together than were the members of the First Eleven. King, their quarter-back, dubbed them the “Society of the Goats,” and the name was accorded instant approval.

There had been two meetings of the Advisory Committee in Payson’s room and Dan had attended each. No very startling suggestions were made, but the situation was talked over on each occasion, various plays were thrashed out with the aid of Payson’s board and disks, and, if the meetings accomplished nothing more, they brought coach and players into closer accord and added to the enthusiasm.

The remaining games were all hard ones; Brewer Athletic Association at Brewer on November 9; Nordham Academy at Yardley on the 16th; Broadwood Academy at Yardley on the 23rd. Of course the Broadwood game was the contest for which coach and players, and in fact the whole school, were bending their energies, but there was a strong desire on everyone’s part to get through the season with a clean record, something that had not happened for three years. So far there had been no defeats, but Brewer A. A. was always a tough proposition, since the players, mostly mill hands, were a sturdy, hard-fighting lot and were coached by a professional who was not over-careful as to the tactics employed by his charges. The game was always played at Brewer on a field that was none too good and the entire town turned out to shout for its eleven and to hoot the opponents.

Once, several years before, Brewer had taken defeat so greatly to heart that the Yardley players had had to literally fight their way off the field and more than one discolored eye or ensanguined nose had resulted. The Yardley faculty had stepped in then and forbidden further meetings with Brewer. But after a lapse of two years, on Brewer’s promise to be good, the faculty had relented and the teams had met as before. Yardley approved of the game with Brewer because it afforded the team a contest with a first-class opponent who knew all the tricks of the game and was certain to be right up to date in its playing. If the Yardley defense had had its own way so far, at the Brewer game it had to buckle down and go its limit. The main objection to the Brewer contest was the fact that it was likely to result in a rather appalling list of injuries. But so far Andy Ryan had always managed to bring the cripples back to the game in plenty of time for Broadwood.

During the fortnight following Dan’s trip on the Princess he had seen a good deal of Gerald and Mr. Pennimore. He had spent another Sunday at Sound View and had been there for two short visits when Mr. Pennimore was absent. So far the matter of Gerald’s schooling was still in abeyance, although it was constantly under discussion by the boys themselves. The new tutor had not yet arrived, Mr. Pennimore being, he said, unable to find anyone who came up to the requirements. Gerald was in clover and expressed fervent hopes that the right person would continue to elude his father; only he expressed it differently. He had seen the game with Porter Institute and had watched practice on several occasions. During the practice scrimmages it is doubtful if ever a player had a warmer admirer on the side-lines than had Dan. For Gerald had succumbed to hero-worship in its most virulent form and was only contented when Dan was within sight. And for his part, Dan returned the younger boy’s liking, although less fervently. In spite of his surroundings and his rich prospects Gerald had seemed to Dan a rather forlorn little figure, and sympathy had paved the way for a warmer feeling. In spite of his faults, which were due to his bringing-up rather than to his real character, Gerald was a companionable sort of chap, cheerful, wholehearted and usually generous. He wasn’t quite free from a form of snobbishness, but Dan was knocking that out of him fast. And he was inclined to be selfish where his own pleasure was involved. For instance, had he had his way Dan would have spent all his spare moments at Sound View; it seemed not to occur to him that Dan might have more important things to do than to supply companionship for him. But this was more thoughtlessness than anything else, and Dan speedily disillusioned him. Gerald sulked for a day and then accepted Dan’s decision cheerfully.

The matter of the Sedalia, Dayton and Western Railroad was settled. It was going to run through Graystone. Mr. Pennimore said so and that settled it once and for all. The new survey would not be made until early Spring and meanwhile the news was not likely to get abroad. But Dan, when he went home for Christmas was at liberty to tell his father, and he was sure that that announcement would be the best Christmas gift his father would receive. Dan never knew how Mr. Pennimore obtained his result, and I’m afraid he didn’t much care. As a matter of fact it was all very easy, the purchase of a third of the interest in the new road placing the Steamship King where he could dictate to his associates. This cost Mr. Pennimore a pretty sum of money, but he didn’t begrudge a cent of it. Doubtless the investment would eventually prove profitable, although Mr. Pennimore, for once, didn’t consider that feature of the transaction.

About the first of November Dan became a member of the Cambridge Debating Society. He had received invitations from both the Cambridge and Oxford Societies, and during the three or four days which remained before it was necessary to make a decision he became aware of the fact that a number of fellows were being uncommonly attentive to him. They dropped in to see him in the evenings and invited him to their rooms, they displayed a surprising knowledge of his personal likes, dislikes and ambitions and talked admiringly of his football work. But sooner or later the conversation always reached the subject of the debating societies and the merits of one or the other were earnestly dwelt upon. On one occasion Dan entertained a member of each of the rival societies at one time and a really delicious comedy was enacted. The Cambridge member was Paul Rand, while Oxford was represented by Joe Chambers. They were killingly polite to each other and for half an hour the conversation wandered from golf to football and from mid-winter examinations to the conduct of the Scholiast of which Chambers was an editor. Each tried to outstay the other, but in the end they retired together, for there were other fellows awaiting their attention. And not once had Societies been mentioned.

New members were taken into the societies twice a year, in November and May, Third Class fellows in November and Fourth Class fellows in May. Sooner or later every fellow in school had the chance to join one or other of the societies, but it was considered something of an honor to receive invitations from both. The societies had rooms on the top floor of Oxford; very comfortable rooms they were, too, with plenty of easy chairs and window-seats, good reference libraries, and places to write. For the societies were social as well as deliberative, and while regular debates were held one evening a week the other evenings saw informal gatherings that were quite as pleasant. The rooms, too, offered excellent retreats in which to study between recitations.