Defeat for Clearfield was a foregone conclusion after the first five minutes of play. Clearfield got her signals mixed, utterly failed to follow the ball closely, was fooled on the simplest plays and, on the whole, put up as wretched an exhibition of football as one can imagine. Locust Valley was well advanced for so early in the season, her warriors had a diversified attack that was hard to meet and her coach was a tactician of merit. At the end of the first period Locust Valley had scored a touchdown by a mixture of old-fashioned line-plunging and new-fashioned cross-passing and had kicked a goal. Clearfield had not succeeded in even threatening the opponent’s citadel.
Dick imperturbably put Harry Bryan in at left end and Thad Brimmer at center and the game went on. Clearfield showed occasional flashes of real football, as when, half-way through the second period, Lanny, with Cottrell interfering, ran some thirty yards straight through the opponents and placed the pigskin on Locust Valley’s twenty-three yards. But after that the Purple’s offense was too weak to make much impression on the enemy and the ball was soon being punted back up the field. Clearfield showed almost no team-play. It was every man for himself, and some of the individual efforts were extremely crude. The team’s supporters hoped against hope well into that second period and then began to grumble. Some of the things that were said about the team and about the coach were uncomplimentary in the extreme. The kindest thing that was muttered of Dick by these malcontents was that he didn’t know enough football to coach a girl’s school! The first half ended with the score 11 to 0, Locust Valley having failed to kick a goal from a difficult angle.
To make a long story short, the enemy departed later in the afternoon with the ball and a 26 to 3 victory. That three points Clearfield managed to secure in the last five minutes of the battle by the timely introduction of Morris Brent. Coach Lovering used practically three elevens that day, and, considering the sort of game put up by some of the players, it was a wonder that Locust Valley didn’t double her score! Clearfield retired from the field in a mutinous mood. There was even talk of a mass meeting to protest against the further retention of Dick as coach. Clearfield, they said bitterly, had never been beaten as badly as that in the memory of any student, and only once before had she failed to win from Locust Valley. It was all very well to make the Springdale game the goal of the season’s work, but there was no sense in being licked by every little whipper-snapper of an opponent meanwhile. Why hadn’t Lovering used the team that had beaten Highland Hall last Saturday instead of experimenting with every kid who had the price of a pair of canvas trousers?
Dick had his defenders, of course, but they were in the minority. As for Dick himself, he showed no concern over the outcome of that contest. George Cotner, whose confidence in Dick had been somewhat shaken that afternoon, ventured to offer condolences after the game.
[“Too bad, Dick,” he said. “Still, we did score on ’em.] I suppose, considering everything, we couldn’t have expected to win.”
[“‘Too bad, Dick,’ he said. ‘Still, we did score on ’em.’”]
“Probably not,” replied Dick calmly. “Let me have your memorandum, please. I want to go over it to-night. By the way, can you find a fellow to help with the dummy on Monday?”
“Yes, I’ll get one of the kids. We’ll have to buy some more balls in a day or two, Dick. We lost one to-day, you know.”
“Yes, and we may lose more. You’d better order a half-dozen on Monday.”