As Oak Park played no contests with outside football teams all the interest concentrated on the inter-dormitory games. West and East Houses combined forces against the Hall, with whom they played a series of three games for the school championship and the possession of what was known as the Silver Shield. This was an oak shield bearing a smaller shield of silver surrounded by a design of oak leaves and acorns—the school emblem—and the inscription: “Oak Park School Football Trophy.” Each year the shield was inscribed with the names of the winning players and became the temporary property of Hall or House, as the case might be. For two years running the Silver Shield had graced the parlor of the Hall, and the Houses were resolved that this Fall it must come down. As East House accommodated only fourteen boys and West House but eight, while the Hall held thirty-eight, at first glance the chances seemed to favor the Hall from the start. But the discrepancy was not as great as would appear, for the Hall held most of the younger boys, members of the Second Junior Class, who were not allowed to take part in the big games but were permitted to play amongst themselves. So that actually the Hall’s supply of football material was usually not much larger than that of the combined Houses.
The House Team was captained this year by Frank Brooks, an East House lad of seventeen who was usually known by the title of Brooksie. The Hall’s captain was Pete Grow, House Leader at the Hall and one of the best-liked fellows in school. There were two separate gridirons on the athletic field and it was an unwritten law that during athletic activities no Hall man should approach the House gridiron, and vice versa. The House used the lower field and it was on that that Cal began his initiation into the mysteries of football. I can’t say that he displayed any especial aptitude for the game or was very enthusiastic about it. He did as he was told to do to the best of his ability and perspired freely for the cause, but Frank Brooks didn’t single him out for commendation that day. On the way back to West House after they had had their showers Cal gave expression to his curiosity.
“It seems to me, Ned,” he remarked, “that football playing’s pretty hard work. I always thought, to hear about it, that it was fun.”
“Why, it is fun!”
“Oh,” murmured Cal. “Is it?”
“Of course it is, after you get to know it.”
“Well, I didn’t see much fun in it today. Dropping on a wobbly leather ball that’s never where you think it is and running across the field after it with the thermometer at—whatever it is at, isn’t my idea of having a real good time, Ned.”
“That’s because you haven’t got into it yet,” said Ned encouragingly.
“I cal’late I never will. I didn’t seem to have much luck today.”
“Oh, you did well enough for a beginner,” answered Ned. “Most fellows have a pretty hard time at first. You never played before, did you?”