Willard shook his head. “It sounds crazy to me,” he said. “And I don’t think I’d want to play if everything was cut-and-dried like that. Hang it, McNatt, it’s accident and chance that makes the game interesting.”
“I don’t agree with you. I think those things retard the development of it, Harmon. As it is now, individual skill rules. Why, look here. Suppose armies fought that way. Suppose a field general said to his subordinates: ‘I don’t know how to meet this situation. You fellows see what you can do. Maybe we can push back his left wing or maybe we can punch a hole in his center, do something, but don’t bother me!’”
Willard laughed. “That’s not a fair comparison, though, McNatt,” he answered. “At least, in football, the coach or the quarter-back has a plan and carries it out, even if it isn’t the right one!”
“A wrong plan is no better than no plan. Haphazard football is just as silly as haphazard war would be, Harmon. Fellows who teach football talk about the science of it, but they don’t study it. Their science begins and ends with finding out the other fellow’s weak spot and attacking it.”
“Sounds like pretty good science to me,” said Willard.
“It is good as far as it goes, but it’s only the beginning. Well, here’s my way. I’m glad to have met you, Harmon. I’d be glad to continue the subject sometime if you care to visit me. I’m in Number 49. I’ve got some things that might interest you, too; rather a good collection of minerals gathered around here, for one thing: nearly two hundred specimens.”
“Thanks, I’ll look you up some time,” said Willard, “but I guess I’ve had enough of that argument. It’s too deep for me, McNatt! So long.”
Willard turned toward Haylow and, when he had gone a little way, looked back. McNatt had stopped near Lawrence Hall and was staring up into the sky. All Willard could see there was a streaky white cloud. He shook his head as he went on again. “‘McNutt’ is right, I guess,” he muttered.