When the time for the kick-off came, they were all there. Old grads were there too, hundreds of them. One man had journeyed all the way from New York. Crimson banners and pennants fluttered in the breeze. The College band roared, boomed and blared then settled down to, “Hail to Hillcrest!” Ah, yes, it was to be one glorious occasion.
A fine misty rain was blowing in from the east. But what of that? Blankets, heavy coats, and ulsters defied the weather. As for the team, they were all pepped up for the battle. Weather meant nothing to them. Bumps, bruises, even cuts would mean nothing to them. Nothing short of a broken leg could stop them today.
Today was the day of days. Year after year they had gone down to defeat. Today? Today! Just wait and see.
One thought disturbed Dave Powers as he took his place. Old Kentucky was in his suit but his bright, new crimson jersey did not shine out from the field. Instead it was hidden beneath a heavy gray blanket. Kentucky was on the bench. There, shivering from the cold, excitement, and bitter disappointment, he awaited the kick-off.
“Your rib is about healed,” the doctor had said to him. “However, if you should go into the game, and be tackled and thrown hard, it might result in permanent injuries.”
Well, doctor’s orders were doctor’s orders, but to Kentucky, had it not been for his teammates, they would have meant nothing. What were a few broken bones to the loss of the year’s game of games? It was Dynamite who had said, “You stay out until I need you.”
“But promise me,” Kentucky pleaded, “if the battle goes against you and if you think I can help, promise you’ll let me in.”
“Help, kid?” Dynamite had exclaimed. “Of course you could help. You and I could lick that Naperville bunch all by our lonesomes. And will I holler if we are getting the worst of it? You better believe I will, son!”
All the same, as Dynamite went into the game it was with a wordless prayer that little Kentucky might not be needed.
From the very start it was a thrilling game. From the first, too, Dynamite was to recall the words of Kentucky’s passed on by Johnny: “Somebody’s going to drop the ball.”