The day was made for such a game. There was no wind. The glare of the sun was tempered by a gray mist creeping up the afternoon skies. The air was crisp enough to prevent languor. The crowded bleachers were inspiring; the season was rounding out in a blaze of glory for Sunrise. The two teams were evenly matched, And the stern joy that warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel, spurred each to its best efforts. It was a battle royal, with all the turns of strategy, and quickness, and straight physical weight, and sudden shifting of signals, fake plays, forward passes, line bucks, and splendid interference, flying tackles, speedy end runs, and magnificent defense of goals with lines of invincible strength and spirit.
With the kickoff the enemy’s goal was endangered by a fumbled ball, and within three minutes Trench had torn a hole in the defense, through which the Sunrise team were sending Vic Burleigh for a touchdown. The bleachers went wild and the grandstand was almost shipwrecked in the 贵阳品茶论坛 noise.
“Burleigh! Burly! Burlee!” shrieked the yellleader as Vic leaped over the goal line and the rooters roared:
The Sunrise hope! And that’s the dope! Never quails! Never fails! Burleigh! Burly! Burlee!
A difficult kick from a sharp angle sent the ball through the air one inch wide of the goal post, and the bleachers counted five.
And then, came the forward swing again, the struggle for downs, the gain and loss of territory, until Trench, too heavy for speed, failed to break through the interference quickly enough to hold a swift little quarterback, who slipped around the end of the line, and, shaking off the tackles, swooped toward the Sunrise goal. The last defense was thrown headlong, and the field was wide open for the run; and the quarterback was running for the honor of his team, his school, his undying fame in 贵阳夜网官网app the college world. Three yards to the goal line, and victory would be his. All Lagonda Ledge held its breath as Vic Burleigh tore through a tangle of tackles and sprang forward with long, spaceeating bounds. He seemed to leap through ten feet of air, straight over the quarterback’s head and land four feet from the goal with the quarterback in his grip, while a Sunrise halfback out beyond him was lying on the lost ball.
The bleachers now went entirely mad, for from the very edge of disaster, the tide of battle was turned into the enemy’s territory. Before the Sunrise rooters had time to cease rejoicing, however, the invincible quarterback was away again, and with two guards and a center on top of Burleigh, now the plucky runner broke across the Sunrise line, and a minute later missed a pretty goal. And the opposing bleachers counted 六盘水最好的洗浴蒸桑中心 five.
The second half of the game was filled with a tense, fruitless strife. Five points to five points, and four minutes of time to play. The struggle had ceased to be a turning of tricks and test of speed. Henceforth, it was man against man, pound for pound. Suddenly, the opposing team braced itself and began a steady drive down the gridiron. With desperate energy, the Sunrise eleven fought for ground, giving way slowly, defending their goal like true Spartans, dying by inches, until only three yards of space were left on which to die. The rooters shrieked, and the girls sang of courage. Then a silence fell. Three yards, and the Sunrise team turned to a rock ledge as invincible as the limestone foundation of their beloved college halls. The center from which all strength radiated was Victor Burleigh. Against him the weight 贵阳水艺天下换名字了 of the linebucking plunged. If he wavered the line must crumble. The crowd hardly breathed, so tense was the strain. But he did not waver. The ball was lost and the last struggle of the day began. Two minutes more, the score tied, and only one chance was left.
Since the night of the storm, Vic had known little rest. His days had been spent in hard study, or continuous practice on the field; his nights in the sick room. And what was more destructive to strength than all of this was the newness and grief of a blind, overmastering adoration for the one girl of all the school impossible to him. The strain of this day’s game, as the strain of all the preparation for it, had fallen upon him, and the half hour in the rotunda had sapped his energy beyond every other force. Love, loss, a reputation attacked, possible expulsion for assaulting 贵阳洗浴桑拿 a professor, injustice, angeroh, it was more than a burden of wearied muscles and wracked nerves that he had to lift in these two minutes!
In a second’s pause before the offense began, Vic, who never saw the bleachers, nor heard a sound when he was in the thick of the game, caught sight now of a great splash of glowing red color in the grandstand. In a dim way, like a dream of a dream, he thought of American Beauty roses of which something had been said onceso long ago, it seemed now. And in that moment, Elinor Wream’s sweet face, with damp dark hair which the lamplight from Dr. Fenneben’s door was illumining, and the softly spoken words,”I shall always remember you as one with whom I could never be afraid again”all this came swiftly in an instant’s vision, as the team caught its breath for the last onslaught.
“Victor, for victory. Lead out Burleigh,” Trench cried to his mates, and the sweep of the field was on; and Lagonda Ledge and the whole Walnut Valley remembers that final charge yet. Steady, swift, invincible, it drove its strong foe down the whitecrossed sod so like a whirlwind, that the watching crowds gazed in bewilderment. Almost before they could comprehend the truth, the enemy’s goal was just before the Sunrise warriors, and half a minute of time remained in which to play. One more line plunge with Burleigh holding the ball! A film came before his eyes. A sudden blankness of failure and despair seized him. In the grandstand, Elinor Wream stood clutching a pennant in both hands, her dark eyes luminous with proud hope. Amid all the yells and cheers, her sweet voice rang out:
“Victor, Victor! Don’t forget the name your mother gave you!”
Vic neither saw nor heard. Yet in that moment, strength and pride and indomitable will power came sweeping back to him. One last plunge against this wall of defense upreared before him, and Burleigh, with half the enemy’s eleven clinched to drag him back, had hurled himself across the goal line and lay halfconscious under a perfect shower of fragrant crimson roses, while the song of victory in swelling chorus pealed out on the November air. Half a minute later, Trench had kicked goal. The bleachers chanted eleven counts, the referee’s whistle blew, and the game was done!
_The air for the wing of the sparrow, The bush for the robin and wren, But always the path that is narrow And straight for the children of men_. ALICE CARY
THE DAY OF RECKONING
_Oh, it is excellent To have a giant’s strength, but tyrannous To use it like a giant_. SHAKESPEARE