CHAPTER XXIII
MONTY FINDS A SOFT PLACE
That 12 to 6 defeat dismayed the fellows, but appeared to worry Coach Bonner not a bit. Possibly he thought that an upset of the sort would prove a blessing in disguise. The team had gone through a fairly successful season prior to the last contest, having met but one defeat, been tied once and won four games. There had been evidences of overconfidence and self-satisfaction, and those are things that no coach cares to discern. Possibly Mr. Bonner believed that the drubbing at the hands of Hollywood would convince his charges that they were not the finished team they had supposed themselves to be.
They talked the game over in 14 Lothrop that evening. Hugh Ordway dropped in soon after Monty’s arrival to lug Dud off somewhere, but became interested in the subject under discussion and remained for half an hour or longer. Hobo was a quiet-mannered, pleasant chap of seventeen, a senior and a proctor. As he roomed with Captain Winslow, he was credited with being “on the inside” in football matters. Whether he was or not, he never divulged anything of interest. Still, his opinions had the weight of authority, and, when he made them known, which was seldom, they were listened to with interest. Tonight, responding to a question from Jimmy, he said:
“How good Mount Morris has shown herself against other teams doesn’t count much when it comes to reckoning her chances with us, Jimmy. I was looking over the records the other day and I noticed that several times when Mount Morris had won practically all her games and we had had rather a poor season we won from her. And then, on the other hand, we’ve lost to her more than once when things were just the other way about. So the fact that our deadly rival has won every game but two and tied those doesn’t trouble me any. You can’t tell a thing about a Grafton—Mount Morris game until it’s all over.”
“Our team isn’t as good as it was last year,” said Jimmy.
“It never is,” replied Ordway, smiling.
“Well, it really isn’t. We don’t play together. I’m not a football specialist, but I could see this afternoon that most of the time our fellows were playing every man for himself, while those other chaps worked together like machinery.”
“That’s so,” granted Ordway. “That’s our main trouble just now. That and the fact that we haven’t been able to develop much of an offense yet. The backfield especially is ragged on team-play. But we’ve got another fortnight, Jimmy, and it’s the last two weeks that always count most. I feel like the dickens about Will Brunswick, though. They say he may not be in shape for the Mount Morris game. He’s got a brute of a strain.”
“With Manson and Brunswick out,” observed Dud, “our backfield is sort of shot to pieces.”
Ordway nodded. “It leaves us badly off for good kickers,” he said. “That’s the worst of it. We’ve got fellows who can rush the ball, but Manson is our best goal kicker and Brunswick is the next best. With both of them out we’ll have to alter our plans a bit, I fancy. I dare say Bonner will try to coach Nick on field-goals, but there isn’t much time for it.”