After that more passes. Scarcely was the Hillcrest team in a huddle when a certain half-back began shouting: “Pass! Pass!”
Then something strange and startling happened. The team lined up and, as the ball was snapped, Kentucky, Artie Stark and Tony Blazes raced to receiving positions. The enemy, eager to block or intercept a pass swarmed after them.
But the ball was not passed. Just as Punch, the full-back, posed the ball for the throw, like a blackbird after a cherry, Dynamite seized it from behind, went sweeping away around left end which was all but deserted, bumped squarely into one lonesome Pitt player, sent him sprawling and romped away to a touchdown.
“Did you see that?” a letter-man of other days exclaimed. “The old Statue of Liberty play. And gloriously executed!”
“Glorious!” echoed his companions. “Say! These boys are making football history! And I’m told that more than half of them are working their way. Quite wonderful!”
“Wonderful and terrible,” was the other’s reply. “We old grads ought at least to furnish a training table, where they could eat without cost during the season anyway.”
The score, after the kick, stood 7-0. The boys were jubilant. They were playing a supposedly superior team and beating them.
That was the end to forward passes. All the passes that had gone before were in preparation for this one grand stroke. Now it should be something else.
The next play they tried was too difficult. Artie Stark was smeared for a loss of three yards. Worse still the ball bounced from his grasp and was pounced upon by the enemy.
After that, despite the team’s heroic efforts to block them, their heavy weight enemies battered their way to a touchdown. The kick was good. The first half ended a tie.