Joe missed Hal Norwin a good deal for the first few days of the new term, but after that there was scarcely time to miss any one. Fall baseball practice began on the second day and Joe was busy. He and Gus got on beautifully right from the start. Any fellow, though, could get on with Gus, so that was no great credit to Joe. Gus was even busier than Joe, and, as football leader, was facing far more responsibility. Until well into October Joe knew but little of the football situation. Gus spoke7 of it frequently enough, but Joe’s attention was generally perfunctory. Then, one evening Gus sprang a surprise.
“Say, how much longer are you going to waste your time with that gang of morons8?” he asked. “Moron” was a new word with Gus, and he loved it. Joe simulated perplexity.
“Morons, Gus? Why, I’m not on the eleven!”
“No, but you ought to be,” growled9 Gus. “Look here, Joseph, we were talking about you this afternoon, Rusty10 and I, and we decided11 you’d have to come out.”
“Play football? Not on your life! Listen, Gus,[225] I’ve got all the trouble I want right now. You and Rusty want to forget it!”
“Can’t be done. We need you. We’re short of men, as you know, and—”
“I didn’t know it,” exclaimed Joe suspiciously.
“Well, you would have if you’d heard what I’ve been telling you every day for three weeks! We’ve got a punk lot of backfield stuff, and we need more. We—”
“Thanks,” laughed Joe.
“We need more men, I mean. You’ve played two years already, Joe, and you know a lot more than some of those new morons that are trying for jobs. You’d be a lot of good out there if you’d come. How about it?”
“But I can’t, Gus! Who’s going to look after the baseball gang? There’s a good fortnight of practice ahead yet. Of course, after that, if you still insist, I’ll be glad to join your crowd of roughnecks. Just the same, I don’t see what use I can be. You know mighty12 well I’m no football player. I proved that last year, and—”
“How come? Look at what you did in the Mills game. Made every score yourself—”
“Shut up! I’m a dub13 at football, and every one knows it. What are you and Rusty trying to do, anyway? String me?”
“Not a bit of it, Joe, honest. Listen. Rusty[226] says you’d probably get a place this year if you tried hard. After all, experience is what counts, and you’ve had two years of it. And you’re a mighty clever guy when it comes to running, Joe. You’re fast and you can dodge15 like a rabbit.”
“Yes, maybe. And I can get the signals twisted and I can score as well for the other fellow as for us! I’m a plain nitwit at football, Gus, old darling, and you ought to know it. So had Rusty. Besides—” and Joe grinned—“what would I want to play any more for? I’ve got my letter, haven’t I?”
“Letter?” said Gus. “You’ve got three of ’em; baseball, football and hockey. If it comes to that, what do you want to play any more baseball for?”
“Oh, that’s different. I’m captain, you see.”
“Sure. And I’m football captain. So you ought to play football.”
The logic16 wasn’t quite clear to Joe, but he didn’t challenge it. He only shook his head again. “Anything to oblige you, Gus, but my duty is with the baseball crowd just now.”
“What’s the matter with letting Prince attend to ’em? What’s fall practice amount to, anyway? Any one can stand around and see that those guys get enough work. The job doesn’t need you. Besides, you could look ’em over now and then, couldn’t you?”
“But, my dear, good Gustavus,” protested Joe,[227] “what’s the big idea? You’ve got Dave Hearn and Johnny Sawyer for half-backs, and maybe six or eight others, haven’t you? Why pick on me?”
“Sure, we’ve got Dave and Johnny and a fellow named Leary, a new guy, but that’s all we have got. The rest are a total loss. You know mighty well three half-backs aren’t enough to carry a team through a whole season. Johnny’s a fine plunger, a rattling17 guy for the heavy and rough business, but he’s as slow as cold cream when it comes to running. Dave’s good; he’s fine; but we need a couple others. You’re one of ’em. When do you start?”
Joe laughed impatiently. “I don’t start, you old idiot. I’ve told you I can’t.”
“Bet you you do,” replied Gus, untroubledly.
“Well, I’ll bet I don’t! At any rate, not until fall baseball’s through.” There was a moment’s silence during which Joe found his place in the book he had been studying. Then he added: “I’m sorry, Gus, of course, but you see how it is.”
“I thought you liked football,” said Gus. “You were crazy about it last fall.”
“I do like it. I’m crazy about it yet, I guess, even if I’ve proved to myself that I’m no player, but—”
“And now, just when you’re practically certain of making the team, you quit!”
“Practically certain of—say, are you crazy?”
“Well, aren’t you? You’re captain of the baseball[228] team, aren’t you? Well, you ought to know what that means. If I went out for baseball next spring don’t you think I’d find a place, even if I was fairly punk? Sure, I would. Just because I’m football captain. Well, it works the other way, too, doesn’t it? Any coach will stretch a point to find a place for a fellow who’s captain in another sport. Rusty as good as said this afternoon that you’d get placed if you came out. Of course, that doesn’t mean that you’d play all the time, but you’d get a good show and you’d be sure of playing against Munson for a while anyway.”
“I call that a pretty sick piece of business,” replied Joe disgustedly. “And if you think it works always, why, you just try for the nine next spring! You’ll have a fat chance of making it if you can’t play real baseball, Gus!”
“Well, I don’t want a place on the football team that I don’t earn. And you can tell Rusty so, too. I’m not coming out, Gus, but if I did I wouldn’t take any favors like that. That’s—that’s crazy!”
“Well, don’t get excited,” said Gus soothingly19. “We’ll let you earn your place, Joe.”
“You bet you will—when you get the chance!”
Joe resolutely20 cupped his chin in his palms and[229] fixed21 his eyes on the book. Gus smiled tolerantly, sighed and drew his own work toward him.
Two days later Joe reported for football.
There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. The coach talked to three or four of the leading members of the nine and convinced them that Captain Kenton was needed on the gridiron. Then he talked to Joe. Rusty was a forceful talker, even if his vocabulary wasn’t large, and at the end of half an hour he had Joe teetering. And then when the latter, having exhausted22 all the objections he could think of, fell back on Charlie Prince and others of the last year crowd for support they deserted23 him utterly24. Charlie expressed amazement25 that Joe should even hesitate. He said it was a question of patriotism26, a call to the colors, and a lot more, and Joe surrendered. Charlie took over the running of the baseball team and Joe, delighted as soon as he was once convinced, donned canvas again.
So far Holman’s had journeyed a rough path. She had played four games and won two of them. She had had her big moments, when it had seemed to coach and players and spectators that the Light Green was due for another successful season, with Munson’s scalp hanging from her belt in November, but there had been other moments not so grand. Saarsburg had fairly overwhelmed her in the third contest of the season, Holman’s playing football that[230] might easily have disgraced a grammar school team. Some laid that to the fact that the thermometer hovered27 around eighty; but it wasn’t to be denied that it was just as hot for the visiting crowd, and Rusty, the red-headed Holman’s coach, chewed his gum very fast and swallowed a lot of things he wanted to say. Then, just to show what she could do, the Light Green took Center Hill Academy into camp to the tune28 of 23 to 0; and Center Hill was no infant at the pigskin game! And three days after that Joe Kenton joined his fortunes with Gus and Tom Meadows and Slim Porter and the others and contentedly29, if dubiously30, proceeded to do his bit.
It wasn’t much of a bit at first. He was football stale and it took many days to get back into the rut again. Rusty gave him plenty of work and plenty of opportunities, trying him out for a week on the scrubs and then shifting him over to the first as a first-choice substitute. He got into the Mills game for some twenty minutes and, perhaps because Mills this year was only about fifty per cent of the team she had been last, he was fairly successful in making gains outside of tackle. Holman’s won without much effort, 19 to 0. Afterwards, Gus tried to tell Joe that he had played a corking31 game, but Joe knew better.
“Talk sense,” he protested. “If we’d been playing[231] Munson, or even Glenwood, I wouldn’t have made fifteen yards this afternoon. With you and Barrows boxing that end any one could have got his distance. And I mighty nigh got the signals mixed again that time on their sixteen yards when Sanford sent Leary into the line. I was within an ace14 of going after the ball myself. If Leary hadn’t started a split-second before I could get going I’d have gummed the game finely! No, sir, Gus, I’m no pigskin wonder, and I know it. I love the pesky old game and I’ll play it as long as you and Rusty can stand me, but I haven’t any whatyoucallems—any delusions32 of greatness.”
“I don’t say you’re a great player,” demurred33 Gus, “but you got away fast and clean to-day, and you follow the ball, Joe. If there’s one thing I admire more than anything else in a football guy it’s that. I’m a prune34, myself, at it. I never could keep my eyes on the old leather, and I’ve missed more tackles and fell over my own feet oftener than you could count just for that reason. Yes, sir, you follow the ball, and I sure like that, Joe.”
“Oh, well, maybe so, but that doesn’t make me a player. Any one can watch the pigskin and see where it’s going—or coming. And, of course, if you know where it is you stand a fair chance of getting the runner. But what I mean is that—that oh, I don’t know!” Joe sighed. “I guess it just comes[232] down to this, Gus. Some fellows have football intelligence and a lot more haven’t. And I’m one of the haven’t!”
“Well, keep the old shirt on,” counseled Gus. “You’re doing fine. I wouldn’t wonder if we managed to use you a whole lot against Munson. They say she’s got only a fair line this year, and a slow backfield, and you ought to be able to get going once at least; and when you do get started, Joseph, you’re hard to stop.”
“A slow backfield!” jeered35 Joe. “Where do you get that stuff? Munson’s still got Taylor, and he’s fast enough for half a dozen backs!”
“Yeah, but the rest are big chaps and don’t handle themselves very quick. Anyway, that’s the dope we get. Rusty’s aiming to put a fast team against ’em, and that’s why I guess you’ll get a good share of work the day we meet ’em. You keep right on the way you’re headed, old son, and no one’ll do any kicking. And keep your eye on the ball just like you’re doing. You sure do make a hit with me in that way, Joe!”
“Well, it’s nice to know there’s one thing I do decently,” answered Joe, still deeply pessimistic. “Too bad there isn’t a twelfth position on a football team, Gus. I might get on the All-American as ball-follower!”
[233]
Gus grinned and muttered something as he lounged through the door. It sounded like “moron.”
The Mills game marked the end of the preliminary season. The four games that remained, excepting, perhaps, that with Wagnalls, a week before the final test, were serious affairs; and only the most optimistic Holman’s supporters could figure wins for the Light Green in more than two of them; and sometimes those two didn’t include the Munson contest! Rusty had stopped experimenting now and, barring accidents, the line-up for the Louisburg game would be the line-up that faced Munson. One thing that worried all who dared hope for a victory over the Blue and Gold was the fact that in all the seventeen years that Holman’s and Munson had met on the gridiron never had the former won two successive contests. Munson had beaten her rival two years running twice, but such glory had yet to fall to Holman’s. Holman’s had won last fall, and while there was, of course, absolutely nothing in this superstition36 stuff—well, there it was! Even Captain Gus, who had as little imagination as any one could have, was secretly oppressed, although publicly, if any one referred to the subject, he laughed scornfully and declared that fellows who put any faith in that sort of dope were morons!
What Rusty thought no one knew. Rusty kept[234] right on working hard with such material as Fate had willed to him, a dogged, determined37, generally cheerful Rusty who was well liked by all hands and who, knowing what his charges didn’t know, was working for more than a victory over the ancient rival. What he knew and the fellows didn’t—or, if they did know, had forgotten—was that his four-year term as coach expired this fall, and that, since like any general, he was judged by results, whether his contract was renewed would depend a very great deal on whether Holman’s or Munson emerged from the fast approaching battle with the long end of the score. During Rusty’s regime the Light Green had lost two Munson games and won one, and, although Rusty might well have cited extenuating38 circumstances to account for the first defeat, he realized fully6 that another reversal would probably send him looking for a new position. So the little coach worked hard, perhaps harder than he ever had worked, and with material that, to say the best of it, was only average. If he had had last year’s team Rusty wouldn’t have worried much, but he hadn’t. What he had was only little more than half as good as last year’s, and so, not infrequently, Rusty did worry. But few ever knew it.
The Louisburg game proved a tragedy both to the team and to Joe; but especially to Joe. Johnny Sawyer, playing right half, got a twisted ankle early[235] in the first period and, for some reason known only to Rusty, Joe, instead of Leary, was sent in to replace him. Joe had never been able to do as well at right half as at left; nor did he play as well under Clinker’s leadership as under Sanford’s. To-day it was the substitute quarter who had started, Sanford being reserved for the last half. Things broke wrong for Joe on the very first play, which was a fullback buck39 through right of center. Instead of going into the line outside his right tackle as he should have, Joe dashed straight for the center-guard hole. He beat Brill, the fullback, to it, but Joe was too light for the job of cleaning the hole out, and when Brill slammed in behind him the enemy defense40 had flocked to the point of attack and the result was a three-yard loss for Holman’s. Joe emerged rather the worse for wear and as yet unconscious of his error. Clinker, ably assisted by Brill, informed him of it. There wasn’t much time for explanations, but the two did wonders, and Joe, very sick and miserable41, would have crawled out of sight if that had been possible.
He partly redeemed42 himself a few minutes later by a lucky catch of the ball when it bounced from Barrow’s hands after a forward pass. But he laid that to luck and nothing else, and found no comfort. Twice he was stopped on plays around his right,[236] once for a four-yard loss. It wasn’t his day, and he was convinced of it, and he played as one who was convinced. On defense he was not so bad, but Rusty wisely took him out at the end of the quarter. Joe went over to the gymnasium certain that he was disgraced. He didn’t return for the rest of the game, and what happened he learned from Gus later. After holding Holman’s scoreless during the first two periods, Louisburg opened up a whole bag of tricks and, taking the offensive, slammed the opponents around cruelly, putting two touchdowns across and adding a field goal for good measure. The score was 16 to 0. Gus was still dazed when he told the story.
“We simply went to pieces, Joe, the whole kit43 and caboodle of us. Why, even Ferris was up in the air. Twice he passed over Brill’s head. The rest of us were just as bad. I was rotten. I don’t know what happened! We played like a lot of—of morons!”
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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morons
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| 傻子( moron的名词复数 )； 痴愚者（指心理年龄在8至12岁的成年人） | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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dub
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| vt.（以某种称号）授予，给...起绰号，复制 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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utterly
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prune
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| n.酶干；vt.修剪，砍掉，削减；vi.删除 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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extenuating
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| adj.使减轻的，情有可原的v.（用偏袒的辩解或借口）减轻( extenuate的现在分词 )；低估，藐视 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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