[CHAPTER XI]
A SHAKE-UP
Coach Cade was back on Monday for dinner, and to one or two especially observant members of the squad he looked more grim and determined than usual. Instead of sending the squad out to the field at three-thirty that afternoon he talked to them in the gymnasium for some twenty minutes. First he took up Saturday’s game and went through it exhaustively, pointing out mistakes and short-comings. He started with center and worked through guards, tackles, ends and backs, and it was surprising how many faults he managed to mention. Finally he said: “Now, fellows, I’m going to talk plain. We are all in this together. If I fail in my duties it affects you, and if you fail it comes back on me. You want to win your games and I want you to, and if you’re to do it you and I have got to team up and pull side by side from now on. There’s no getting around the fact that so far we’ve made a poor showing. You will have to look back over the Alton football records for many years before you’ll find a season as disappointing as this has been so far. We’ve played four games and won just one. Not only that but, against pretty weak teams, we’ve managed to score only 40 points to the opponents’ 31. You don’t need to have me tell you that there’s something wrong somewhere. I wish I could tell you what it is, but I can’t. I’m willing to assume half the responsibility, though, for I have a hunch that I know one way in which I’ve failed this fall. I’ll take that up in a minute. What I’m getting at now is that it’s up to all of us to face the situation and determine to get the best of it. It’s a time for drastic measures, and I want you to realize it. We can’t defeat Kenly Hall if we keep on the way we’re going. I’m certain of that, and those of you who have played here in other seasons know it too. All right, then. We’ve got to stop taking things for granted and prove them. That’s what we’ve been doing, fellows, taking things for granted. Both of us. That’s the mistake I spoke of a minute ago. You are taking it for granted that you’re going to be able to play winning football when you get up against Kenly. Probably you know yourselves capable of it. I think you are capable of it. I’m taking it for granted, too. That is, I have been. Beginning to-day, though, I’m not.”
He paused and looked over the half circle of puzzled faces before he continued. “Beginning to-day, fellows, no one is going to hold a position on this team because he filled it last season, or because he thinks himself entitled to it through previous service, or because he shows promise. Nor for any other reason save just one, which is that he proves conclusively to my satisfaction that he is the best man for the job. This goes from top to bottom, from Captain Lowe to the greenest man on the squad. Captain Lowe may be the best man for the right guard position; probably he is; but he’s got to show us, you and me both. So on right through the line-up. You may be all you think you are, all you ought to be, all I’ve been accepting you as, but, by golly, you’ve got to prove it. No position is sacred any longer, fellows. If Smith wants Jones’ job all he’s got to do is go and get it. It’s his if he can play a better brand of football than Jones. Theoretically this has always been the rule here, this year as well as other years, just as it is the general rule at other schools and colleges. Actually, however, it hasn’t been working very thoroughly, and that’s my fault. Some of you have—well, hypnotized is the best word I can think of—have hypnotized me into accepting you at your own valuation, into thinking as you do that you own your positions. Well, yesterday I woke up. I saw that I’d been taking far too much for granted. Here’s where I stop being an easy mark, fellows. And here’s where all mortgages are canceled. How’s that hit you?”
Some of the countenances before him looked rather dazed, others showed grins, but no one replied for an instant. Then Captain Lowe said calmly: “Suits me, Coach!” And other murmured agreements followed.
“Good! We’ve got material here plenty good enough to build a winning team out of, fellows. Let’s do it. Let’s start to-day and build from the bottom up. There’s time enough. The material’s seasoned, only the arrangement will be new. Wistar, got a sheet of paper handy? All right. Put down the names of the fellows, all of them, and classify them as usual: linemen, ends, backs; and let me have the list when we go out. There’s one more thing I want to speak of. There’s been far too much fumbling going on. A certain amount of it’s to be expected at this season, but we’ve been overdoing it. Saturday’s game was lost through a fumble, and there were two others which, while recovered fortunately enough, shouldn’t have occurred. I want to get rid of that stuff, and if necessary I’ll go back to a half-hour of passing every afternoon. But I think it’s possible to cure weak fingers in another way. You’ll remember how in the poem of The Ancient Mariner the man who shot the albatross had it tied around his neck as punishment. Well, I propose to adopt a somewhat similar plan. After this too many fumbles will result in the offender carrying a football around with him wherever he goes: classes, meals, off the campus, everywhere; and at night it will sit beside him on a chair at the head of his bed. This isn’t an original idea; it’s been tried before; but I think it ought to work. Will you fellows agree to it and make it effective?”
Agreement was hearty. The idea amused them and, since the discourse had hitherto been too serious to allow of levity, they laughed uproariously. Mr. Cade smiled, too, but the smile was rather grim.
“That’s all, fellows,” he said. “Let’s go out and make up for lost time.”
That afternoon practice went off as usual on a Monday, with the accent on formation drill and the players in Saturday’s game being excused thereafter. The Second Team engaged a team of substitutes and won handily in two ten-minute periods. Bert played right half in the first period and gave way to Keys in the second. Neither of them performed any deeds calculated to raise their stock, yet Bert found encouragement in the fact that Coach Cade had selected him to start the scrimmage. That made it look as if in the coach’s estimation he and Keys were about on a par.
A rather garbled and exaggerated version of Mr. Cade’s remarks circulated about school that evening, and the reactions were varied. Many dubbed the scheme as suicidal, declaring it too late in the season to start a reorganization of the team. Others favored the plan, sometimes remarking vindictively that it would serve some of those swelled-heads about right if they lost their positions. Then still others met the news with a pessimistic shrug. It didn’t much matter, they thought, what Coach Cade did. In any event the team was too rotten to be saved and another defeat at the hands of Kenly Hall was inevitable.