The Half-Back eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 239 pages of information about The Half-Back.

The Half-Back eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 239 pages of information about The Half-Back.

“Lacing to you,” said Blair quietly.  Story shifted the ball imperceptibly.

“More.”  The quarter-back obeyed.

“Cock it.”  Higher went the end toward the goal.

“Not so much.”  It was lowered carefully, slowly.

“Steady.”  Blair stepped back, glanced once swiftly at the cross-bar, and stepped forward again.

“Down!” Story’s left hand touched the grass, the Yates men surged forward, there was a thud, and—­

Upward sped the ball, rising, rising, until it topped the bar, then slowly turning over, over in its quickening descent.  But the nearly silent west stand had broke again into loud cries of triumph, and upon the face of the Scoreboard appeared the momentous word, “GOAL!”

Again the ball was put in play, but the half was soon over and the players, snatching their blankets, trotted to the dressing rooms.  And the score-board announced: 

“Opponents, 6.  Yates, 6.”

As the little swinging door closed behind him Joel found himself in a seething mass of players, rubbers, and coaches, while a babel of voices, greetings, commands, laughter, and lament, confused him.  It was a busy scene.  The trainer and his assistants were working like mad.  The doctor and the head coach were talking twenty to the second.  Everybody was explaining everything, and the indefatigable coaches were hurrying from man to man, instructing, reminding, and scolding.

Joel had only to look on, save when he lent a hand at removing some torn and stubborn jersey, or at finding lost shin-guards and nose masks, and so he found a seat out of the way, and, searching the room with his gaze, at length found Prince.  That gentleman was having a nice, new pink elastic bandage put about his ankle.  He was grinning sturdily, but at every clutch of the web his lips twitched and his brow puckered.  Joel watching him wondered how much more he would stand, and whether his (Joel’s) chance would come ere the fatal whistle piped the end of the match.

“Time’s up!” cried the head coach suddenly, and the confusion redoubled until he mounted to a bench and clapped his hands loudly above the din.  Comparative silence ensued.  “Fellows,” he began, “here’s the list for the next half.  Answer to your names, please.  And go over to the door.  Fellows, you’ll have to make less noise.  Dutton, Selkirk, Murdoch—­Murdoch?”

“Right!” The voice emerged from the folds of a woolen sweater which had stubbornly refused to go on or off.  With a smile the head coach continued the list, each man responding as his name was announced and crowding to the doorway.

“Chesney, Rutland, Burbridge, Barton—­”

A murmur arose from the listening throng, and Chase, a tall, pale-faced youth, his cheek exhibiting the marks of a contact with some one’s shoe cleats, groaned loudly and flung himself on to a bench, where he sat looking blindly before him until the list was finished.

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Project Gutenberg
The Half-Back from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.