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"I suppose not. But tell me, can you play tackle pretty well?"
"I've got along all right so far, I think. Of course, Cupples's been at it longer than I have, Mr. Detweiler."
"What in your judgment is the biggest a.s.set a tackle can have, Thayer?"
"Brains, sir."
"Hm; yes, that's so. Now, look here." Mr. Detweiler laid a hand on Clint's knee. "There's a fine chance for a fellow who is willing to work and learn on this team. If you'll make up your mind to it, you can go right ahead and play tackle against Claflin. But you'll have to plug like the d.i.c.kens, Thayer. It won't be any picnic. I want a chap who is willing to work hard; not only that, but who will take the goad without flinching. Think you're the chap?"
"I reckon so," murmured Clint. "I'm willing, anyway, sir."
"You're not over-enthusiastic," laughed the coach, "but maybe that's just as well. All right, you see what you can do. Get out there now with the second squad. Try to show me that I made a good selection, Thayer.
And, by the way, I wish you'd drop around and see me this evening after study. Can you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll look for you, then. And bring that friend of yours along, if he wants to come."
"Byrd?"
"Yes, that's his name, isn't it? Tell him I'll be honoured if he will pardon the informality of the invitation and give me the pleasure of his society from nine to ten. That's his style, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir." Clint smiled. "I think he will be very glad to come, sir."
"All right. Now get in there, Thayer, and set your mind on it. Show what you can do. I expect you to make mistakes, boy; we can correct those; but if I think for a moment that you're not trying--Well, we can't waste time on you in that case, Thayer."
Clint reported to Carmine, who was personally conducting the subst.i.tutes around the field. "h.e.l.lo!" he greeted. "Tackle, you say? All right.
Follow along for awhile, will you? Now then, fellows, get this right!
Gafferty over! 36--41--17--8! 36--41--17--"
Clint tried to pick up the signals, but it was a hopeless task, and it was not until Mr. Robey detailed one of the subst.i.tutes to teach him the 'varsity code that he was able to take part in proceedings. He went in at right tackle for one of the two fifteen-minute periods and, considering that he was still unfamiliar with the s.h.i.+fts and signals, did very well. No one told him so, to be sure, but he knew without being told, and emerged from the afternoon's practice thinking that perhaps, after all, playing on the 'varsity was not such a difficult thing as he had imagined it. But Clint's troubles hadn't begun yet.
That evening when he went in to supper he created an unintentional diversion by proceeding, from force of habit, to the second team table.
It was only when he got there and found no seat awaiting him that it dawned on him that he had made a mistake. The second team fellows broke into a roar of laughter as Clint blankly surveyed them and, turning hurriedly, made his way to the other end of the room. The rest of the fellows sensed the situation after a moment and Clint pa.s.sed table after table of amused faces. Amy, grinning delightedly, reached far across the board where he sat and, pointing at Clint with a baked potato impaled on a fork, announced loudly: "A _contretemps_, Mr. Thayer, a veritable _contretemps_!" Clint was blus.h.i.+ng when he finally reached the first of the tables occupied by the 'varsity players and found a vacant chair. There, too, amused glances awaited him, and he was heartily glad when Freer laughingly pulled him into the seat beside him.
They got a half-hour's leave from the Hall Master after supper, which allowed them to remain out of the dormitory until half-past ten, and, as soon as study hour was over, set out for the village and Mr.
Detweiler's. When they reached his room in the little boarding house they found Mr. Boutelle there, but he left almost at once. Mr. Detweiler made them comfortable, apologising for the unattractiveness of his quarters.
"The fact is, fellows," he explained, "I didn't expect to stay over the week when I came, and so brought nothing but a kit-bag. But Robey thinks I ought to see him through, and, to tell the truth, I'm rather keen to myself. You don't play the n.o.ble game of football, Byrd?"
"No, sir," replied Amy modestly. "You see, I developed at the wrong end." He tapped his forehead significantly.
"That's hard on you and me, Thayer," laughed the coach. "Well, what do you do for exercise?
"Tennis, some."
"He won the singles champions.h.i.+p this Fall, sir," explained Clint.
"Really? That's fine. I'm a bit of a tennis enthusiast myself. Played on the team three years in college. Some before that. Tennis was about the only thing we specialised in when I was here. By the way, did you get into difficulties over the disciplining of that fellow, whatever his name is?"
"No, sir, we haven't heard anything from it yet. He'd hardly be likely to say much, would he?"
"I fancy not. Have you met him since?"
"Oh, we see him every day. He rooms next door in Torrence."
"And what about the chap whose violin he broke?"
"Durkin? Oh, Penny's making about as much noise as before. He says the fiddle he's using now isn't nearly as good as the one Dreer busted, but I can't see much difference myself. Can you, Clint?"
Clint shook his head sorrowfully. "Sounds even louder to me," he said.
"I must drop around some time and hear him perform," laughed the coach.
"He must be something of a character." Amy agreed that he was, and narrated two or three anecdotes concerning Penny to prove it. Mr.
Detweiler evidently found Amy's discourse amusing and drew him out until he was in the full flood of his eloquence. But when they had been there a half hour or so their host abruptly switched the conversation.
"I want to talk shop with Thayer a little," he announced. "You won't mind, Byrd? There are some magazines in front of you if you like to read."
"Thanks, I'll just listen, sir. It always amuses me to hear folks get excited about football."
"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.
"Fairly well, I reckon. I didn't know the signals very well. I don't yet, for that matter."
"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.
"Of course, you know that the play is usually to charge your opponent toward the centre. Play to get around the opposing end on the outside and block the runner. If he finds you've got past and are waiting for him he will likely turn in and try to get through nearer the centre of the line, and the centre of the line is the hardest to gain through. So 'turn 'em in' is the regular rule, Thayer. On attack keep close to your guard and help him on plays inside your position. Learn to work smoothly with him. Usually you'll be able to settle between you whether you're to help him or go out and help the end. It depends on the play and on how strong the guard is. When you make a hole, make it clean; and don't stop when it's made. Keep on playing until the ball is down. And don't trust the horn for it, either. See it down yourself.
"When the runner is through the hole it's often up to you to say whether he's to make three yards or thirty. Look for the man who's in position to stop the runner and get to him and put him out of it. Play the game every minute, Thayer. Be always on the lookout for trouble and try to get a finger in it. And, another thing, and I've been dinning this into the men all the week, don't slow down before tackling. Tackle hard, Thayer. Put on a little extra steam at the last moment and smash into it! Don't merely stop your man; anyone can do that; but put him back when you hit him. Make him fall toward his own goal, and not toward yours. Sometimes there's a difference of two yards right there. And besides, and I say this because I know it to be so, there's nothing that takes the starch out of a backfield man who is catching a punt or running it in like knowing that he's going to be tackled hard. He has it on his mind when he's catching the ball. He knows he's got to get it right and hug it hard or he will lose it. And it's a dollar to a dime he will get over-anxious and nervous. A team that tackles fiercely and for keeps will have its opponents making fair-catches before the second half starts. Well, that's enough for tonight. If I hurl too much wisdom at you you won't remember any of it. Besides, Byrd over there is yawning already."
"Oh, no, sir, I found your discourse most interesting," a.s.sured Amy.
"And I do hope our young friend will profit by the advice. I sometimes think he shows real promise, Mr. Detweiler."
"Well, we'll hope he will later on show fulfilment, Byrd. I don't want to frighten you, Thayer, but you're likely to hear all this stuff over again, and a heap more like it. These little lectures of mine occur frequently. I hope you weren't as bored as your friend here."
"No, sir, and I'll try to remember what you told me."
"In case you shouldn't I'll tell you again soon," laughed the coach.
"Rome wasn't made in a day nor a good tackle in one lecture. Now we'll talk of something that Byrd can come in on."
CHAPTER XX
'VARSITY VS. SECOND TEAM
Saunders, who was going around on crutches those days, viewed the advent of Clint on the 'varsity squad with misgiving, but he was very nice to him whenever the opportunity occurred. The same was true of the older candidates for the tackles positions, Trow, Tyler and Crewe. It was evident to a blind man from the first that Coach Detweiler had made up his mind that if such a thing were possible Clinton Thayer was to be converted into a tackle of 'varsity calibre. Hence the other candidates, especially those who had been practically certain of their positions, could not be blamed for feeling a little resentment toward both Mr.