Football -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
On Tuesday the first-string players returned to a full diet of work
and, excepting Smedley, now pronounced out of football for the season,
all the guard candidates were on hand when the scrimmage started.
Nevertheless Leonard displaced Renneker in the second period and
Raleigh went in at left guard, relieving Stimson. Billy Wells greeted
Leonard heartily with a playful poke in the ribs and, “Well, here’s
the General! See who’s with us, Jim!” Jim Newton turned and grinned.
“Hello, sonny,” he said. “You get behind me and they won’t hurt you.”
Leonard, almost painfully aware of the difference in size between him
and the big center, smiled apologetically. “Thanks,” he answered, “I
will if you happen to be on your feet.” Billy yelped gleefully, and
Jim’s grin broadened. “You win, young feller,” he said.
Leonard didn’t break through to-day and capture a fumbled ball, but he
did more than handle his opponent and very early in the second period
the scrubs discovered that the right of the first team line was a
particularly poor place at which to direct attack. Leonard and Wells
worked together very nicely. Just before the end, much to his disgust,
he was forced to yield his place to Falls, and he and Raleigh, also
relieved, made their way back to the gymnasium together. Raleigh was
an excellent example of the player who is able to progress just so far
and then stands still, in spite of all that coaches can do. He had been
a second-string guard last year and had, early in the present season,
been picked as a certainty. Renneker’s advent, however, had spoiled
his chance, and since then Raleigh seemed to have lost his grip. Just
now he was not so much standing still as he was sliding backward.
He confided something of this to Leonard on the way across to the
gymnasium.
“I don’t suppose I’ll even get a smell of the big game,” he said
sorrowfully. “Renneker’ll play at right and Stimson at left, and you
and Falls will be next choice. It was that big guy that queered my
chances.”
Leonard didn’t have to ask who was meant. Instead he said comfortingly:
“You can’t tell, Raleigh. You might beat Stimson yet. And you’ll surely
have it all over me for first substitute.”
But Raleigh shook his head. “Not a chance, Grant. I know a real player
when I see him, even if I’m getting to be a dub myself. You’re a
live-wire. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got Stimson’s job before the
Kenly game.”
“Me? Much obliged for the compliment, Raleigh, but I guess Stimson
isn’t frightened much! I haven’t got the weight, you know.”
“You don’t seem to need it,” replied Raleigh enviously. “You’ve got
speed to burn. Wish I had a little of it!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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