“Oh, we’re not going to get excited, Byrd.” Mr. Detweiler hitched his
chair around a trifle and faced Clint. “How did you get on today?”
he inquired.
“Not a bit,” replied the other stoutly. “On the contrary, if a boy can
put on a pair of gloves and harmlessly pound another boy about a
bit–or get pounded about–it satisfies the desire for fistic encounter
that’s a part of every fellow’s make-up, and he’s a lot less likely to
be quarrelsome. Besides, Horace, it’s a fine exercise for the body and
brain and eyes.”
“No, it’ll take a day or two to forget the others and remember ours.
There are two or three things I noticed about your playing this
afternoon, Thayer, and I want to speak of them while they’re fresh in
my mind. In the first place, you played too close to your guard on
defence as a general thing. Open up there and, above all, don’t play
between opponents. I mean by that, don’t try to get through on defence
between two men. Select one and play him. Usually it will be the outside
man, and your game is to put him against his inside man or side-step
him. As a general thing your position on defence is a foot or so outside
the opposing end player, although there are one or two formations when
that isn’t so. Another thing I noticed was that, while you watched the
ball well, you were liable to let the other man get the jump on you. As
soon as the ball is snapped, Thayer, get busy with your arms. There are
two main factors in the playing of a tackle position. One is head and
the other is arms. Use your head all the time and your arms most of the
time. As soon as the ball is snapped, out with your arms, Thayer. Lunge
against the opponent. Get him first and hold him off until you can see
where the ball’s going. Don’t try to break through blindly. Hold him at
arm’s length, keep your legs out of the way and then put him in or out,
as the case may be, and go through for the runner. If you can get your
arms on the other fellow _before_ the ball is snapped, do it, but don’t
try it too long before or you won’t be able to hold it. Try for the
neck and arm position. It’s the best. You can swing a man either way if
you have that. If he gets under your arms and boxes you don’t try to
push forward by main force, because you’ll be only wasting your
strength. Back away and get around him.
clock
“I guess we couldn’t get the seven-twelve,” said Amy, glancing at the
clock. “The other would be all right.”
The middle of the week Mr. Boutelle arrived and the second team got down
to business. The training-table was started, and including Coach
Boutelle was made up of sixteen members. “Boots” presided at the head
and Captain Turner at the foot, and Clint was sandwiched in between
Kingston, who played guard, and Don Gilbert, a substitute guard. The
team had its own signals now and practised on its own gridiron each
afternoon until it was time to scrimmage with the ‘varsity. Clint was
first choice right tackle, with Robbins close behind and hard after him.
Being at training-table was lots of fun, although Clint regretted
leaving Amy. The latter’s dire forebodings regarding the food at the
second’s table proved unjustified. They had plenty to eat and of the
sort that was best for them. Steaks and chops and roasts formed the meat
diet, eggs appeared at breakfast and supper, there was all the milk they
could drink, and fresh vegetables and light desserts completed the
menus. “Boots” was rather strict in the matter of diet and fresh bread
agitated him as a red flag agitates a bull. Clint thought he had never
seen so much toast in his life as appeared on and disappeared from the
second team’s table that Fall. Another thing that “Boots” would not
tolerate was water with meals. It was, he declared, ruinous to the
digestion. “All the milk you want, but no water” was “Boots’” rule, and
in consequence the four big white pitchers that stood in a row down the
middle of the board had to be refilled at every meal. The boys at the
training-tables paid a dollar a week extra for board, but Clint still
felt that he was cheating someone and feared it was the cow!
won’t take long
“Well, I ain’t got anything cooked, but the fire’s coming up fast and it
won’t take long. What would you want?”
Mr. Daley shook his head doubtfully. “You may be right,” he said, “but
it seems to me that teaching a boy how to fight is going to make him
want to. That’s the way it goes with other things, Jim. Give a boy
lessons in swimming and he wants to swim; teach him–er–how to jump–”
“Waiting for a train. We lost our way last night and only got here this
morning.”
Penny looked blank for an instant. Then a slow smile lighted his face
and he nodded vehemently.
“Yes, sir. Do you want to speak to him?”
