“I’d rather, if you don’t mind, sir,” Loring persisted.
“Well, suit yourself. I’ll see you again on Friday and we’ll talk it over before you go. By the way, you’d better have some one with you, hadn’t you?”
“I’ll take Wattles, sir. Good night, and thanks for bothering with that play.”
“If it works as I hope it’s going to, Deane, thanks will be going the other way. Good night.”
The second cheer meeting—there had been one on the eve of the Toll’s game—was held Thursday after study hour, and some new songs were tried out—Mr. Parks at the piano—and some old ones were resung. And, of course, there was a good deal of enthusiasm and noise. There was another and even more demonstrative affair Saturday evening, at which Mr. Babcock and Mr. Clendenin, who was Chairman of the Athletic Committee, and Captain Dave spoke, but before that other events transpired.
The Scrub got badly mauled on Thursday, for the First Team, recovering its self-esteem and poise, went after revenge. Yet the Fighting Scrub proved once again its right to the nickname and the nine points scored by the adversary were hard earned. Loring’s forward-pass play—known now as Number 30—was twice used by the First, the second time for a long gain that led to the field-goal. This in spite of the fact that the Scrub knew the play and was watching for it. Friday was another hard day, for “Cocky” was driving the team with Wolcott in mind and making no preparations for the next day’s visitors. There was only one period of scrimmaging, but it lasted fifteen minutes and held at least one spectacular incident. That was Clif’s interception of Ogden’s forward-pass. Ogden, a second-string half, was being tried out at fullback and was making a good impression. Ogden, while not so heavy as Hanbury or Badger, still had a good deal of weight and wore it where it did the most good when he hit the Scrub line. And Ogden was faster than any of the other candidates for the position of alternate to “Big Bill.” That pass was made from kicking position after the First had hammered its way to the Scrub twenty-seven and two slams at the line had yielded but four yards. It was a quick, short heave over right tackle and was meant for Stiles or Archer, the latter having lately displaced Couch at left end, but Clif had swept around back of his line with the snapping of the ball, for “Wink” Coles had “called” the play, and it was Clif, and neither Whitemill nor Archer who was on the spot when the pass went over. Clif made the catch while still going at brisk speed and he kept on going, heading first for the side-line and then turning in. Since the First Team left end and right half were already out of the way, he had only Stoddard and Ogden to challenge him at first. But by the time he was well straightened out, running some five yards inside the border, Cotter, First’s speedy left tackle, had taken up the chase. Cotter soon distanced the others, and it was he who finally threw Clif out of bounds at the First’s thirty-eight. That the Scrub only got five yards more in three downs spoke well for the big team’s defense. “Sim” Jackson’s toss to Adams grounded and First took the pigskin. But Clif had covered some forty-eight yards in that romp of his, and, back in the gymnasium, once more enjoyed the applause of his teammates.
There were two games played on Wyndham Field on Saturday. At two o’clock the Wyndham and Wolcott Scrub Teams met and, since the High Point contest was not to begin until three, the School surrounded the farther gridiron and cheered lustily for the Scrub. When it was obliged to leave in order to be present at the kick-off of the more important contest the score was 7 to 7, the third period was a minute or two old and it was anybody’s game. There were some staunch supporters, however, who remained until the last, and they were well repaid, for it was the final fifteen minutes that held the real thrills.
Both Wyndham and Wolcott were reduced to line-ups largely composed of substitutes by that time, for the game had been a hard-fought and not over gentle affair. Although they were but Second Teams and no championship depended on their efforts, they were still Wyndham and Wolcott, rivals always. Each team played not for its own honor but for the honor of its School, and mighty deeds were performed before the question of supremacy was settled. At 7 to 7 the battle had waged into the third period and through it, and at 7 to 7 the last quarter had started. Then, when some three minutes had gone by, Wolcott’s brown-stockinged horde swept into its stride and, strengthened by the return of several first-string men who had been deposed in the first half, slammed its way down to the home team’s twenty-five-yard line. There the ball was lost only to be recovered again. From the thirty-two Wolcott started once more and tore forward. “Babe” Ridgway, who had stuck it out under a grueling attack through three busy periods, had to give way finally to Pat Tyson, and Pat was responsible for an advance that took Wolcott from the twenty-eight to the sixteen yards. Wyndham steadied then and held, momentarily, but when the enemy had reached the ten yards it was not to be denied, and at last, when two smashes at the center had netted but three, the Wolcott right half took the ball on a cross-buck and plunged inside Jimmy Ames for a first down. Three more plays put the pigskin across.
The period was fully half over and those six points looked enough to spell victory for the visitor, but the Fighting Scrub couldn’t spell that way. Scrub set itself to dispute the try-for-point, and when Al Greene strode over the sprawling body of his adversary and plunged toward the kicker that youth hurried his effort. The ball didn’t miss the goal by many inches, but miss it did, and the Fighting Scrub gave voice to joy and stumbled back to positions. Mr. Connover shuffled his men then. Tyson crossed over to right tackle and “Wink” Coles went to center. Hoppin replaced Thayer and Patch took Clif’s place. And with that final change “Steve” shot his last bolt. He hadn’t a single available player left to call on! But Wolcott didn’t know that.
Wyndham’s chance didn’t come along until the period was twelve minutes old. Then desperate, but still believing in its ability to even the score, “Sim” Jackson, who had spent the third quarter on the bench, dug deeply into his small bag of tricks and, finding nothing much there, used what was left. It wasn’t much of a trick, either, but it served. The Fighting Scrub tore itself literally in half and the two halves hugged the side-lines. The ball went with the left portion of the team. Wolcott moved this way and that, momentarily at a loss how to meet the extraordinary formation. That wide-open space in the middle of the field held a strong attraction for the visitor, and, although it finally divided its defense just as Wyndham had divided its attack, it was evident that the opening was much on its mind. The handful of Wolcott adherents and players on the side-line howled derision. Then “Wink” passed the ball at an angle to Heard, a back across the field started with the ball and ran toward his own goal, and Wolcott became loudly vocal with warnings and advice and swarmed in the direction of the ball. Heard stepped back and back, facing the middle of the field. Then, when further delay meant danger, he swung half about and threw the ball to his left. Jeff Adams, who had skirted around close to the side-line and was now well away, put up a pair of long arms and a pair of large, eager hands and plucked the ball out of the air. After that, very soon after, he set out for Wolcott’s goal as though he had important business somewhere in its vicinity!