“No-o,” Dave spoke slowly, “we didn’t. He’s trying too hard. Have to let him slow down a bit. But he’s a fine kid, Johnny, a mighty fine kid. I like to see him run. Wait until next Friday. You know we play on Friday this week, Naperville’s request. You’ll see a thing or two. Just you wait!”
Johnny was willing enough to wait if Dave felt that way about it. He did wait. He did see things, wonderful things for a while—and then—well—yes, and then.
* * * * * * * *
“Look!” Dave’s tone was low, tense with emotion. “We gotta’ beat that Naperville gang. We just got to. And we can do it, Old Kentucky.” He placed a hand affectionately on the mountain boy’s shoulder.
The great day had come. The Naperville game was about to start. Never before had there been such crowds, so much color, enthusiasm, and cheering.
“We can do it,” Dave went on, “just you and I. No one can dodge the way you can. And I—I’m a battering ram. I’m good! I even admit it,” he chuckled. “I’ll go through ’em. You follow on and make the gains. We’re going to have a touchdown two minutes after the first whistle. I’ll tell you how,” his voice dropped to a mere whisper. “Artie will give you the ball. I’ll hit their tackle, hit him hard and ram their line into a heap. That makes a hole. You go through, far as ever you can.” He drew a long breath.
“And then?” Kentucky asked in a low, quiet drawl.
“Same thing. Four times running,” was Dave’s reply. “Every time we’ll gain a little less ground. Shouldn’t wonder if you’d be thrown for a loss on the fourth. There’s a bright sophomore on that Naperville team—too bright. Plays right guard. He’ll break through and smear you. Let him!” Dave chuckled. “And then,” another long breath, “then Artie will send you through the spot where that same right guard belongs. He’ll be feeling so happy about smearing you, he won’t be watching, or if he is, he’ll expect that same play. You should get through, all the way through, kid! Make it a touchdown, boy. Make it a touchdown.” He wrung the younger boy’s hand. “There’s the horn.”
Who can say what went on inside the Kentucky boy’s mind as he crouched behind the line waiting for the snapping of the ball? As yet all was quite new and strange to him. They expected so much of him. They wanted him to beat this Naperville team. Naperville meant nothing to him. But to his team mates and all the old grads, the letter men of other years, it meant a great deal.
But here was the ball. He felt its hard smoothness in his hand, saw Dave plunge forward to send a player crashing to one side, saw the opening and went through for a gain of a yard, two, three, four, eight yards. Then a bolt of lightning appeared to hit him and he went to earth.