Football -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
On Wednesday a stranger appeared at practice. He was a large,
broad-shouldered man of perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six years, with a
jovial voice and a pleasant smile. He wore a nondescript assortment of
football togs among which was a blue sweater bearing a white Y. He did
not, however, retain the sweater long, for five minutes after practice
had started he was down by the farther goal in charge of a bunch of
guards and tackles. With the sweater he seemed to have discarded the
jovial voice and the pleasant smile. Presently the rumor spread that
the stranger was one Myers, an Alton guard of some years before and,
more recently, _the_ Myers who had helped put Yale back on the football
map. Also, rumor had it, he was to remain at Alton until the Kenly game
and take charge of the linemen.
That afternoon Jim added not a little to his knowledge of playing in
the line. Myers spent much time showing his charges how to stand, both
on attack and defense. After Hick Powers, invited by the coach to take
his position on attack, had set himself, Myers charged into him and
sent him sprawling on his back. “There you are,” said Myers. “You
were all right for a straight-on attack, but your feet were too much
on a line for a side-swipe. You can’t always tell how the other fellow
is going to come at you. Try it again. Spread wider. All right. Hold
it! Not too much weight on your hand, though. Just steady yourself
with your finger-tips. Now you fellows study that position. You see
that this man is set so that no matter how I may come at him he’s got
stability. This right foot is far enough behind the left so that I
can’t throw him off his balance by going straight into him, and far
enough to the right so that I can’t throw him to his left by charging
him sidewise. All of you take that stance. You fourth chap there, bring
that rear foot out more. That’s better. Now look at your feet and see
how you’re standing. Got it? Good! One thing more before we drop the
attack position. Don’t anchor yourself by putting your weight on your
hands. What you are doing is taking the position of a sprinter, and
the sprinter doesn’t put the weight of his upper body on his hands. If
he did he’d do one of two things when the pistol barked; he’d either
plunge forward on his face or he’d have to shift his weight back to his
legs before he left the mark. You’re using that position because it’s
the position that will get you into play quickest. But your weight
must always be on your feet. Never use your fingers to more than steady
yourself. Myself, I like to put only one hand to the ground. I let my
left hand point back. It seems to me that it helps me start. But that’s
not important. Use both hands if it seems better for you. Only, and I’m
repeating this purposely, don’t get anchored. And when I say put the
weight on the feet, I don’t mean, of course, that you’re to distribute
the weight evenly. The front foot carries most of the weight. It sets
flat on the ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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