Stanley beat the paper-weight to the door by one fifth of a second, establishing what was undoubtedly a record over the course!
Dick mailed the letter to the editor of the Sentinel and tried to dismiss the annoying affair from memory. In this effort he was well aided by Coach Driscoll, for the coach didn’t allow him much time that week for vain regretting. Dick and Stone were alternated in practice every day and none could have said with any degree of certainty that either was the favourite. Cardin was quite evidently relegated to third place, in token of which he drove B Squad around the field in signal drill while Dick and Gus Stone confined their attentions to A. The Second Team was licked to a frazzle on Tuesday in a thirty-minute session, was held scoreless on Wednesday, although given the ball eight times on the First’s ten-yard-line, and was again decisively beaten Thursday. On Friday the First Team went through signals and did some punting and catching and then were sent back to the showers. But work was no longer over when twilight fell these days, for there was an hour of black-board talk in the gymnasium Trophy Room after supper each night. There, with the squad seated on some old yellow settees dragged in from the balcony, Coach Driscoll, with chalk and eraser and pointing finger, explained and questioned. On Friday night Mr. Driscoll talked defence against shifts, first chalking his diagram on the black surface beside him.
“Chancellor uses several forms of shift plays,” he began. “For a punt she uses a tackle-over. You know how to meet that, I think, but we’ll go over it again to refresh your memories. When you see the opponent shifting a tackle to either side you must yourselves shift a full space in that direction. I’m speaking to the five centre men now. Suppose Chancellor calls for ‘tackle-over left.’ Centre, guards and tackles move a space to the left. That brings centre opposite the opposing right guard and left guard opposite the opposing right tackle, as shown on the board. Our left tackle is out here opposite their right end, our left end still further out where he can dash around to spoil the kick—if he’s smart enough! Right end stays well out and a little back of the line, and it’s his duty to spot fakes and give the news the moment he does it. If a forward-pass develops on his side his place is under the ball. Right half-back plays about three yards back, between his guard and tackle. Full-back occupies a similar position on the other side, ready to go in or out, as play develops. He and left tackle must look after the opposing tackle and end. Behind him, more to the right and well back, is the left half. The quarter, of course, is up the field. Chancellor will almost always punt from that formation, but she may fake, and it is those fakes you must watch out for. Full-back must be especially alive. He must watch the enemy’s back-field and her right end too. If the latter goes out to receive a pass he must get to him promptly and block him. On the other hand, if a punt comes, as it is likely to nine times in ten, this defence puts three men where they ought to be able to sift through in time to hurry the punter if not to actually block the kick. And if you can hurry the punter, in Chancellor’s case her left half-back, you are doing something. For ‘tackle-over right’ you merely reverse this diagram. Chancellor will sometimes punt from ordinary formation to fool you, but not often, for her punter likes plenty of room. Now, fellows, are there any questions? Let’s have this perfectly understood, for it’s a formation you’ll have to use often tomorrow.”
Sometimes they adjourned to the gymnasium floor and lined up and then walked through the evolutions of some play not clearly understandable in the Trophy Room. After these evening séances Dick, for one, was likely to have much difficulty in getting to sleep, his mind being a weird confusion of plays and signals.
[CHAPTER XIX]
ON THE SCREEN
Parkinson played Chancellor on the latter’s home field this year, and a good half of the school accompanied the team to Mount Wansett Saturday morning. Dick, of course, went with the squad of twenty-one players that left on the ten-forty-three train, and others of our acquaintance followed after an early dinner, reaching Mount Wansett with just time to reach the field before Babe Upton kicked off. The line-up for the visitors at the start was, with one exception, what it would be for the Kenwood game a week later. Gleason was at left guard in place of Cupp, the latter being out because of a bad ankle. Stone started at quarter-back and played a good defensive game but was, as usual, slow in getting at the attack. Toward the last of the second period, when Parkinson had finally worked the ball down to Chancellor’s twenty-seven yards, Dick took his place, bearing instructions to try a forward-pass and, should that fail, to score on a field-goal. Stone had been intent on hammering the enemy line for a touchdown, without apparently realising that Chancellor was getting more invulnerable with every plunge and that time was working in her behalf. The attempt at a forward almost succeeded, but not quite, and on third down, standing on Chancellor’s thirty-five-yard line, Kirkendall dropped a pretty goal directly over the centre of the bar. That was the only score of the half, and it was becoming apparent to Parkinson rooters why Kenwood had been able to win from Chancellor by only one score, and that a field goal.
To Dick’s surprise, Cardin started the third period, and played an excellent game. In fact it was due to Cardin that Parkinson secured a second score soon after play was resumed. A muffed punt on Chancellor’s twenty yards had been captured by Bob Peters and two plunges had carried the pigskin on to the fourteen yards. There, however, a mass attack on the left of the home team’s right tackle had resulted in no gain and a try-at-goal seemed necessary, with the probabilities against success since the ball was at a wide angle with the goal. Cardin solved the difficulty by faking a kick and, after hiding the ball until the Chancellor line had broken through, dodging his way around the enemy’s left for enough ground to secure the down. From there Kirkendall and Warden had alternated and had eventually carried the ball across.
Later, Chancellor, not for a moment acknowledging defeat, pulled off two long forward-passes that took her from her own thirty yards to Parkinson’s twenty-eight. Two line attacks netted five more and a third was stopped for no gain. Then a long-legged back put a neat field-goal over for the home team’s first score. Dick went back at the beginning of the final quarter and, with a line-up consisting largely of second- and third-string players, did his best to hold the enemy at bay, and succeeded, although there were some heart-stirring moments for the visiting audience. When the last whistle blew the score was 10-3 in Parkinson’s favour and she had the satisfaction of having bettered Kenwood’s performance against the opponent. For Chancellor had scored a touchdown against the Blue but had failed to seriously threaten the Parkinson goal-line. At that, however, the Brown-and-White’s superiority over the Blue was still questionable, and wise prophets refused to be unduly optimistic as to next Saturday’s contest.