Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football

  CHAPTER XIX

  ON THE EVE OF BATTLE

  Neil was duly pronounced "fine" by the trainer, dosed by the doctor, anddisregarded by the coaches. Mills, having finally concluded that he wastoo risky a person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled him"declined" and passed him over to Tassel, head coach of the secondeleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm, for a good player gone "fine" isat best a poor acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poorplayer in good condition. It made little difference to Neil what team hebelonged to, for he was prohibited from playing on Wednesday, and onThursday the last practise took place and he was in the line-up but fiveminutes. On that day the students again marched to the field andpractised their songs and cheers. Despite the loss of Cowan and thelessening thereby of Erskine's chance of success, enthusiasm reignedhigh. Perhaps their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days beforethe game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted degree ofhopefulness that amounted almost to confidence. The coaches, however,remained carefully pessimistic and took pains to see that the playersdid not share the general hopefulness.

  "We may win," said Mills to them after the last practise, "but don'tthink for a moment that it's going to be easy. If we do come out on topit will be because every one of you has played as he never dreamed hecould play. You've got to play your own positions perfectly and thenhelp to play each other's. Remember what I've said about team-play.Don't think that your work is done when you've put your man out; that'sthe time for you to turn around and help your neighbor. It's just thateagerness to aid the next man, that stand-and-fall-together spirit, thatmakes the ideal team. I don't want to see any man on Saturday standingaround with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in playthere's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you can't run, crawl,wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch. And if you're helping therunner don't stop pulling or shoving until there isn't another notch tobe gained. Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in playuntil the whistle sounds. And, one thing more, remember that you're notgoing to do your best because I tell you to, or because if you don't thecoaches will give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows arelooking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight until the lastwhistle blows, fight long after you can't fight any more, becauseyou're wearing the Purple of old Erskine and can't do anything elsebut fight!"

  The cheer that followed was good to hear. There was not a fellow therethat didn't feel, at that moment, more than a match for any two menRobinson could set up against him. And many a hand clenchedinvoluntarily, and many a player registered his silent vow to fight, asMills had said, long after he couldn't fight any more, and, if itdepended on him, win the game for old Erskine.

  On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the gymnasium and weredrilled in signals and put through a hard examination in formations.Afterward several of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching eachman on the spot that hurt, showing them where they failed and how toremedy their defects, but never goading them to despondency.

  "I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the day before the game,"said Preston; "afraid that when the real struggle came they'd disappointme. A team should go into the final contest with the ability to play alittle better than it has played at any time during the season; with acertain amount of power in reserve. And so I expect to-morrow to seealmost all of the faults that we have talked of eliminated. I expect tosee every man do that little better that means so much. And if he doeshe'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other coaches happy,he'll make his captain and himself happy, and he'll make the collegehappy. And he'll make Robinson unhappy!"

  Then the line-up that was to start the game was read. Neil, sittinglistlessly between Paul and Foster, heard it with a little ache at hisheart. He was glad that Paul was not to be disappointed, but it was hardto think that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for which hehad worked conscientiously all the fall, and the thought of which hadmore than once given him courage to go on when further effort seemedimpossible.

  "Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey, Devoe, Foster, Gale--"

  "Good for you, Paul," whispered Neil. Then he sighed as the list wenton--

  "Gillam, Mason."

  Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's name was among these,but that fact meant little enough.

  "Every man whose name has been read report at eleven to-morrow forlunch. Early to bed is the rule for every one to-night, and I want everyone to obey it." Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: "Some ofyou are disappointed. Some of you have worked faithfully--you all have,for that matter--only to meet with disappointment to-day. But we can'tput you all in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have triedso hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's game, and who haveof necessity been left out, I can only offer the sympathy of myself andthe other coaches, and of the other players. You have done your share,and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no better share in thefinal test. But let me tell you that even though you do not play againstRobinson, you have nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating heras though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work thatcounts--the long, hard preparation--and in that you've had your placeand done your part well. And for that I thank you on behalf of myself,on behalf of the coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalfof the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows of the varsity togive three long Erskines, three-times-three, and three long 'scrubs'on the end!"

  And they were given not once, but thrice. And then the scrub lustilycheered the varsity, and they both cheered Mills and Devoe and Simsonand all the coaches one after another. And when the last long-drawn"Erskine" had died away Mills faced them again.

  "There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and I think you'll giveit heartily. In to-morrow's game we are going to use a form of defensethat will, I believe, enable us to at least render a good account ofourselves. And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out anddeveloped by a fellow who, although unfortunately unable to play thegame himself, is nevertheless one of the finest football men incollege. If we win to-morrow a great big share of the credit will be dueto that man; if we lose he still will have done as much as any two ofus. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!"

  Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one. The pity of it wasthat Sydney wasn't there to hear it.

  The November twilight was already stealing down over the campus whenNeil and Paul left the gymnasium and made their way back to Curtis's.Paul was highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had beenuncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat dampened by the factthat Neil had failed to make the team.

  "It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the game, chum, with youon the side-line," he said. "I don't see what Mills is thinking of! Whoin thunder's to kick for us?"

  "I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals are needed."

  "I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were going to play!"

  "Well, so do I," answered Neil calmly; "but I'm not, and so that settlesit. After all, they couldn't do anything else, Paul, but let me out.I've been playing perfectly rotten lately."

  "But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale, chum."

  "I feel stale, just the same," answered Neil far from untruthfully.

  "But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down with the subs," saidPaul hopefully.

  "Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll get killed and afew more'll get killed and they'll take me on. But don't you worry aboutme; I'm all right."

  Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.

  "By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether you play or don't,"he said at last. "If it had been me they'd let out I'd simply gone offinto a dark corner and died."

  "I'm glad it wasn't you," answered Neil heartily.

  "Thunder! So'm I!"

  The college in general had taken Neil's deflection philosophically afte
rthe first day or so of wonderment and dismay. The trust in Mills wasabsolute, and if Mills said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for lefthalf-back, why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There wasone person in college, however, who was not deceived. Sydney Burr,recollecting Neil's "supposititious case," never doubted that Neil hadpurposely sacrificed himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclinedto protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills cognizant ofthe real situation; but in the end he kept his own counsel, doubtful ofhis right to interfere. And, in some way, he grew to think that Paul wasnot in the dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending hissanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement was a conspiracy inwhich both Neil and Paul shared equally. In this he did Paul injustice,as he found out later.

  He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few minutes and foundPaul much wrought up over the disappearance of Tom Cowan. Cowan's roomlooked as though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowanhimself was nowhere to be found.

  "I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left," said Paul. ButSydney had seen him but an hour or so before at commons, and Paul setout to hunt him up.

  "I know you chaps don't like him," he said; "but he's been mighty decentto me, and I don't want to seem to be going back on him just now whenhe's so down on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes."

  Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at it. He himself wasoppressed by a nervousness that couldn't have been worse had he been dueto face Robinson's big center the next day. He feared the "antidote"wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had found out all about it andhad changed their offense; he feared a dozen evils, and Neil was keptbusy comforting him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings ofCowan, and Sydney said good-night.

  "I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow," he said halfseriously. "I'll stay in my room and listen to the cheering. If itsounds right toward the end of the game I'll know that things havegone our way."

  "You won't be able to tell anything of the sort," said Neil, "for thefellows are going to cheer just as hard if we lose as they would had wewon. Mills insists on that, and what he says goes this year."

  "That's so," said Paul; "and it's the way it ought to be. If ever a teamneeds cheering and encouragement it's when things are blackest, and notwhen it's winning."

  "And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field, Syd," said Neil as hefollowed the other out to the porch. "By Jove, what a night, eh? I neversaw so many stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day for thegame and a good turf underfoot. Good-night, Syd."

  "Good-night," answered the other. Then, sorrowfully, "I do wish you weregoing to play, Neil."

  "Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake. Good-night!"

  The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half an hour longer andthen prepared for bed. Paul was somewhat nervous and excited, anddisplayed a tendency to stop short in the middle of removing a stockingto gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time. Once he stoodso long on one leg with his trousers half off that Neil feared he hadgone to sleep, and so brought him back to a recollection of the businessin hand by shying a boot at him.

  As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He believed Erskine wasgoing to win. For the rest, the eve of battle held no exciting thoughtsfor him. He could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely aspectator, like thousands of others; only he would see the contest fromthe players' bench instead of the big new stand that half encircledthe field.

  But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed and oppressed him,sleep did not come readily. For a long time he heard Paul stirring aboutrestlessly across the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of someparty of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the common.His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in fact, kept busily at themlong after he had fallen asleep. He dreamed continually, a ceaselessstream of weird, unpleasant visions causing him to turn and toss allthrough the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and unrefreshed.

  Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the white frost. The skywas almost devoid of clouds, and the naked branches of the elms reachedupward unswayed by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d ofNovember, bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not have been kinder tothe warriors who, in a few short hours, were to meet upon the yellowingturf, nor to the thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on tovictory--or defeat.