on offered by certain zealous followers who steadfastly
refused to concede Pomeroy's vaunted superiority. Coach Edward's
advent at Grinnell had served to heighten the interest when the small
college had held Pomeroy to a 20 to 7 count the first year of his
mentorship. Things commenced looking decidedly up as Grinnell, under
the new coaching regime, came back the following fall with even more
stubborn opposition, losing to Pomeroy in the last quarter, 13 to 7.
No longer could Pomeroy consider the smaller college a set-up and this
alone was sufficient for Grinnell supporters to claim a "moral
victory." But even bigger things were expected this season--Grinnell's
first undefeated eleven going into its major contest against a Pomeroy
team which was fighting hard to sustain its prestige of former years.
Secret practice sessions were announced by Coach Edward the final week
before the Pomeroy game, adding an air of mystery and high tension to
an already pulsating feeling of suspense.
"Coach has a genius for inventing new plays," Frank Meade, left half,
remarked to Mack Carver as the two dressed for practice on Tuesday
afternoon. "Don't you think?"
"He figures out some good ones all right," Mack admitted.
"I'll say he does!" echoed Frank, with enthusiasm. "That one he taught
us last night--a forward pass breaking out of that lateral!"
Mack's face colored. He was too familiar with this play from having
seen it in diagram form on the Coach's desk.
"Yes," he mumbled. "That's a peach."
"If it's properly executed," Frank went on, "it should be good for a
touchdown."
"Absolutely," Mack agreed, bending down and fingering with his shoe
laces.
"Of course the right half has to block off any tacklers who may be
trying to get through at the man with the ball," Frank continued. "The
ball carrier's got to be given plenty of chance after taking the
lateral to spot a receiver for the forward. If he can do this--the
play ought to be a wow."
"I'd like to be in there on that play," Mack said, impulsively.
Frank laughed. "You may get the call yet. Anything can happen in this
game!"
"Yeah?" retorted Mack, sarcastically. "All I've gotten so far is
slivers in the seat of my pants from sitting on the bench. I'm getting
tired of being shoved in for a couple minutes before the end of the
half to give you birds a chance to get under the showers and take a
rub-down before the second half opens. And then rushing in
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