CHAPTER XI
WARDEN ADVISES
The shake-up predicted by Sid didn't come, although several experimentalchanges were tried in the line-up the next week. Dick learned fromCardin that Coach Driscoll had taken a large share of the responsibilityfor that defeat, declaring that he should have supplied the team with abetter defence for the one-man pass. Dick and Cardin had taken to eachother and, during scrimmage when Stone was running the First Teamagainst the Second, usually sat together on the bench. In a measure theywere rivals, but Cardin was second-choice quarter and Dick--well, Dickwas so far down on the list that his number didn't matter. Stone, Cardinand Pryne were the quarters who would be depended on this season, andDick sometimes wondered why he and two other aspirants were retained.But they were, at least until the Friday of that week. Then Dick aloneremained and could flatter himself if he chose to with the title offourth-string quarter-back! With the passing of the two superfluousquarters came the elimination of a half-dozen assorted candidates andthe First Team was down to less than forty players.
It had been decided that Dick and Stanley, Blash and Rusty were toaccompany the team to Phillipsburg on Saturday, and, when that dayarrived, go they did. But they didn't go together, for on Fridayafternoon, after the players were back in the locker room in thegymnasium, Manager Whipple read the names of the thirty-one fellows whowere to report at eleven the next forenoon, and lo, the list began inthis surprising manner:
"Abbott, Abernathy, Banker, Bates----"
So Stanley, Blash and Rusty Crozier travelled to Phillipsburg inthe twelve-ten accommodation, while Dick, one of a small army ofplayers, coaches, trainers, rubbers and managers, departed in style ateleven-forty on the Springfield Express which, for that occasion only,was scheduled to stop at Phillipsburg at twelve-fifty-four. They walkedto the station, each with his togs in a bag, and presented a fairlyformidable army as they marched by twos and threes down School Street.Small boys stood spellbound in awed admiration and elderly citizenssmiled or frowned according to their sympathies: for Warne is still asomewhat old-fashioned town and there were still those who looked withdisfavour on the rude sport of football.
At the station Billy Goode and his assistants were waiting beside abaggage truck piled high with paraphernalia, and the assistant manager,who, as he would become manager next year, must learn his trade byserving an apprenticeship to which fell the hard work, was standingnearby importantly frowning over an envelope full of round-triptickets. He had counted the contents of the envelope three times andhad got a different result with each count. Stearns Whipple relievedhim of further responsibility by pocketing the tickets uncounted whilethe assistant dug up the balance of the eighty dollars entrustedto him. The express came in twelve minutes late--being late was along-standing habit of the express--and they piled aboard. Seats werefew and Dick was among the dozen or more who were forced to stand orsit on their up-ended suit-cases in the aisle. At the first stop afterWarne, however, Dick and Warden were lucky enough to fall heirs to theseat of an elderly couple nearby who for twenty minutes had displayedintense bewilderment over the somewhat boisterous horde of boys whohad invaded the car. Dick thought he read intense relief on the primcountenance of the old lady as she left.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Driscoll used you today, Bates," saidWarden when they were speeding on again. "I have an idea that it's beendecided to put in a practically fresh line-up in the second half. Noone cares an awful lot whether we win from Phillipsburg, and it's abouttime some of the second-string fellows got a good tryout."
"But I'm not a second-string fellow," demurred Dick.
"N-no, but I think he means to give all his backs a whack at it thisafternoon. If you do get in, old man, just keep your head steady. Don'tlet anything or anyone rattle you. If you look out for that you'llmake good, I guess. Another thing, Bates. Don't be afraid of hustlingthe team. A team likes to work fast. It's the waits between plays thatraise the dickens sometimes. Keep us going. And talk it up a lot. Thathelps, even if it does sound crazy on the side-lines. Scold, too, butdon't nag. Stone nags too much. And Cardin doesn't whoop it up enough.I tell you, Bates, a fellow likes to feel that his quarter is righton the job, that he isn't missing a trick and that he's standing byevery minute. I don't know if I make myself quite clear. But, forinstance, when I'm playing I like to feel that all I've got to dois mind the quarter, that he knows what he's doing. I want to haveimplicit confidence in my quarter. Then I can play ball. If I don'thave confidence I can't. I get to thinking: What's he mean by that?That isn't the play for the down. Suppose he's mixed on his signals: Isthe ball going to be there when I'm ready? And I lose confidence in myown ability to make the play good.
"Last year we had Patterson. He was a wonder, my idea of just what aquarter should be. If it was fourth down on the other fellow's one-yardand Billy called for a punt we'd have thought it all right. Not one ofus would have questioned. He didn't make mistakes and we knew it. Isay he didn't make mistakes, but of course he did once in a while. Hewas only human, you know. He pulled an awful 'boner' in the Chancellorgame. He had called the 'big shift' and then he sent K around the wrongend and we lost about six yards; and a touchdown, too, as it proved,for we couldn't make the distance afterwards. Of course we were prettysore and we'd have said some hard things just then to anyone but Billy.You might expect a quarter after doing a stunt like that to be allbroke-up, but when I got on my feet again Billy was laughing for allhe was worth. 'That's the worst one I ever pulled,' said he. 'I guessthe old bean's slipping, fellows!' So, in about one second we were alllaughing, too, and calling it a joke. But Billy's old bean didn't slipvery often, I'm telling you."
"Did you win that game, Warden?" asked Dick.
"Oh, sure! We got over the next try all right. I forget the score.Something like three scores to one, I think. But if Billy had got sorewe'd have all been sore, and being sore doesn't help much. Unlessyou're sore against the other team. A quarter wants to be a regulardouble-dyed optimist, Bates, and he wants to let everyone know it, forthe rest of the team will take their cue from him. Just let them thinkthat he's discouraged and they'll feel the same way, and as soon asthey do they'll quit trying their hardest. They won't mean to, mindyou, but they will. There's a lot of psychology in a football game, oldman."
"Yes, I think that's so," agreed Dick. "Where I've played, back home,though, it's always been the captain that's run things, Warden."
"Bad business. A captain shouldn't butt in on the running of the teamunless it's absolutely imperative. He has a position to play and heought to give his whole mind to playing it. You watch Bob. You'llalmost never see him question a signal or even suggest a play. Youcan't have two bosses, Bates, and a quarter-back is in position tosee what's going on and to dope out the answer. Sometimes Bob willguess what the other fellow is up to and let us know, and he's usuallyright, too, but that's about all he does except play his position. Offthe field he's the Big Boss, but on it he's taking his orders fromthe quarter just like the rest of us. I'm doing a lot of talking, butI've got rather strong convictions as to the proper playing of thequarter-back position, Bates, and I thought I'd hand them on. Even ifyou don't like 'em there's no harm done."
"I'm glad you have, Warden," said Dick earnestly. "I'd never thoughtmuch about the--what you call the psychology of the thing. But I seethat you're right. And I'll keep it in mind--if I ever get a chance!"
"Oh, your chance will come before the season's over. Mr. Driscoll isn'tkeeping you on the squad just to look at. Bates, I've seen a whole teampretty nearly turned upside down between the first game and the last,seen fellows who supposedly never had a chance come out of the big gamecovered with medals. You never can tell! Well, next stop's ours, Ithink. I'm as hungry as a bear. I hope they give us a good feed at thehotel. Two years ago we nearly starved."
Phillipsburg didn't impress Dick very favourably at the first glancefor the sunlight of a gorgeous October day was almost obscured by apall of smoke from the many factories along the railway. But
later,when they had left the station behind and were trudging up the hilltoward the centre of the city, the smoke disappeared and Phillipsburgturned out to be rather attractive. The hotel was one of thoseold-fashioned hostelries set close to the street, with a broad verandahrunning along the front on which gentlemen of leisure sat tilted backin their chairs and watched life go by. To the loungers the arrivalof thirty-odd guests in one bunch was a refreshingly momentous event,doubtless affording them more real excitement than they had experiencedsince the last collision or runaway. Quite a number of them abandonedtheir ease and comfort and followed the end of the procession into thelobby to satisfy their curiosity.
Dinner--or luncheon as it really was--was served in a small and verymusty smelling room on the second floor, a room evidently dedicated tothe yearly banquets of the Odd Fellows and the annual conclave of thelocal Order of White Elephants. There was a faded red carpet on thefloor and three long walnut tables were arranged around as many sidesof a square. The chairs matched the tables and dated back to about theperiod of the Hayes and Tilden campaign. But the food wasn't bad andthe two coloured waiters, in spite of the infirmities of age, managedto get it to the table fairly hot.
After the meal was finished Coach Driscoll explained the plans forthe afternoon game. Phillipsburg Academy had a light-weight andsupposedly speedy team that relied on passing and running more thanon line-smashing. Her punters were exceptionally good and her endsfast. To meet the Phillipsburg style of offence Parkinson would playher ends back and her tackles out, with Stone and Warden dividing thefield. Phillipsburg made use of both the "bunch" and the "one-man"pass and used a lateral pass as well. If Phillipsburg switched herattack to the centre of the line, the Parkinson tackles were to come inagain, but there were always to be two men up the field. On attack theBrown-and-White was to try out several new running plays and to use theforward-pass whenever practical inside the neutral zone.
"We've got a good chance, fellows," said Mr. Driscoll, "to try outour passing and end-running plays against a team who has a scientificdefence against them. If we make our passes go we'll have reason tobe a bit satisfied with ourselves, for Phillipsburg has worked out apretty good defence against the passing game. What she can do to stopend-runs remains to be seen. But you've got to start quick today andrun hard and watch the holes, you backs. You've got to show about twicethe speed you showed against Cumner last week. If you don't, thesechaps will make you look mighty poor.
"I'm going to see that every fellow has a look-in at some time duringthe game. We may lose the game, but we're going to get experience.Mind, I'm not saying we shall lose it or that we ought to, because Idon't think for a moment that Phillipsburg is a bit better than we are,even if we use third-string players. If you'll use your heads today,and play as fast as you know how, you'll come out on top. I want to seethat Number 12 play go smoothly today. It's a winner if you pull itright, but you've got to get together on it. All right. Any questions,fellows?"
A few minutes later they crowded into two yellow trolley cars and wentbouncing and swaying out toward the Academy, a mile from town. Dickhad held a few hurried words with Stanley and Blash in the lobby.Rusty, it seemed, had disappeared while they had been having lunch in awhite-enamelled place down the block and hadn't turned up since. "He'sprobably up to some idiotic tomfoolery," grumbled Stanley, "and we'llhave to go to the police station later and bail him out, I suppose.Well, good luck, Dick! Hope you get into it. If you do, remember theMaine and all that sort of thing!"
The squad changed into football togs in a room assigned to their usein the Academy gymnasium and at a few minutes past two went acrossthe elm-shaded school yard to the athletic field beyond. A tall youthwith an embarrassed manner and a prominent Adam's apple, the assistantmanager of the Phillipsburg team, personally conducted them. The gamewas scheduled for half-past two and already the stands were wellsprinkled with spectators. A cheering section of some hundred or soParkinsonians was already in place and the Brown-and-White trotted ontothe field to a quite noisy reception. Three squads took the gridironfor signal drill and the punters got busy. Dick accompanied the latterand punted and caught for a good fifteen minutes, getting rather warmduring the proceedings. Phillipsburg arrived at two-twenty and hustledout for a warming-up. By that time the stands were about filled and thecheering was on in earnest. Then the teams retired to their benches,the captains met in midfield, shook hands and watched the flicking of acoin, and Bob Peters waved toward the south goal.
"Means we won the toss," commented Jerry Wendell, right tackle. "Well,here goes!" Dick laid strong hands on Wendell's sweater and the lattersquirmed out like a moth from a chrysalis.