“Oh, Butch,” gasped Hicks, torn between
fear and hope, “just listen to that. Think
of all those Yale men in the stand with my Dad!
Oh, suppose I do get sent in to try for a drop-kick!”
It was almost time far the biggest game to start,
the contest with Ballard, the supreme test of the
Gold and Green, the final struggle for The State Intercollegiate
Football Championship! In a few minutes the referee’s
shrill whistle blast would sound, the vast crowd in
the stands, on the side-lines, and in the parked automobiles,
would suddenly still their clamor and breathlessly
await the kick-off—then, seventy minutes
of grim battling on the turf, and victory, or defeat,
would perch on the banners of old Bannister.
It was a thrilling scene, a sight to stir the blood.
Bannister Field, the arena where these gridiron gladiators
would fly at each other’s throats—or
knees, spread out—barred with white chalk-marks,
with the skeleton-like goal posts guarding at each
end. On the turf the moleskin clad warriors,
under the crisp commands of their Coaches, swiftly
lined down, shifted to the formation called, and ran
off plays. Nervous subs. stood in circles, passing
the pigskin. Drop-kickers and punters, tuning
up, sent spirals, or end-over-end drop-kicks, through
the air. The referee, field-judge, and linesmen
conferred. Team-attendants, equipped with buckets
of water, sponges, and ominous black medicine-chests,
with Red Cross bandages, ran hither and thither.
On the substitutes’ bench, or on the ground,
crouched nervous second-string players; Ballard’s
on one side of the gridiron, and Bannister’s
directly across.
A glorious, sunshiny day in late November, with scarcely
a breath of wind, the air crisp and bracing; the radiant
sunlight fell athwart the white-barred field, and
glinted from the gay pennants and banners in the stands!
Here was a riot of color, the gold and green of old
Bannister; in the next section, the orange and black
of Ballard. The bright hues and tints of varicolored
dresses, and the luster of the official flowers all
contributed to a bewilderingly beautiful spectacle!
Flower-venders, peddlers of pennants, sellers of miniature
footballs with the college colors of one team and
the other, hawked their wares, loudly calling above
the tumult, “Get yer Ballard colors yere!”
“This way fer the Bannister flags!” Ten
thousand spectators, packed into the cheering sections
of the two colleges, or in the general stands, or
standing on the side-lines, impatiently awaited the
kick-off. At the appearance of each football star,
a tremendous cheer went up from the mass. Across
the field from each other, the two bands played stirring
strains. The confident Ballard cohorts cheered,
sang, and yelled and those of Bannister, not quite
so sure of victory, with Thor out, nevertheless, cheered,
sang, and yelled as loudly, for the Gold and Green.
