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So it was with Dudley Dean, perhaps the best quarterback who ever played on a Harvard Eleven; and so with Bob Wrenn, a quarterback whose feats rivalled those of Dean's, and who, in addition, was the champion tennis player of America, and had, on two different years, saved this championship from going to an Englishman.
Practice went on for several days after this, and there were a number of changes of position made, though Sam was still at quarterback, and Tom held his same place. "Now, fellows, we're going to have a little different form of exercise to-morrow," announced the coach, at the conclusion of a short game one afternoon. "I want you all to take part in a cross-country run.
"You must weigh fully a hundred pounds! Why, honey, they'd trample a hundred pounds to death!" "They would not!" Lydia's voice was indignant. "And just feel my muscles. I get 'em from swimming." John ran his hand over the proffered shoulders and arm. "My goodness," he said in astonishment. "Those muscles are like tiny steel springs. Well, what else would you like to be besides quarterback, Lydia?"
Hodge, the Princeton quarterback, noticing the cap signals, determined that he would handicap the captain's strategy by stealing his cap. He called the team back and very earnestly impressed upon them the advantage that would accrue if any of them could surreptitiously get possession of Captain Corbin's head-covering.
This wonderful start of the Lawrenceville team was a goading spur to its opponents. Johnnie Barnes, an ex-Lawrenceville boy, now quarterback on the Andover team, seemed fairly inspired as he urged his team on. Eddie Holt was called upon time and again. He was making strong advances, aided by French, Hine and Porter. Together they worked out a touchdown.
“I’ll tell him that I understand we have a very superior team,” said Irving. “I fancy he knows that it’s as much as I can do to tell the difference between a quarterback and a goal post.” “You will admit, then, that there was some reason for my not believing you had a football brother, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” Westby tried thus to beat a not wholly inglorious retreat.
It may be, indirectly but inevitably, that I might be on the yacht Ella on that terrible night of August 12, more than a year ago. I got through somehow. I played quarterback on the football team, and made some money coaching.
He had struck Milo at such an angle as to rap the latter's right elbow with a numbing force that sent the pipe flying half way across the hall. The tobacco jar must have gone too, had not one of Gavin's outflung hands caught it in mid-air, as a quarterback might catch a football. Unable to recover balance and to check his own momentum. Brice scrambled awkwardly forward.
"But we've got to have a new quarterback," said the perplexed football captain as the time approached for the last big game that for the championship. "Yes," admitted the coach. "Better a new one than that sneak Sam Heller. I'm glad he's gone. Is Tom's ankle fit for him to play?" "He says he'll play, anyhow!" "Good for him. Well, I guess we can make a shift."
Phil King, Princeton's quarterback, was so amazed at the performance that he was too spellbound to tackle his comrade. Down the backfield the player sped towards his own goal. Shep Homans, his fullback, took in the impending catastrophe at a glance and dashed forward, laid the halfback low with a sharp tackle, thereby preventing a safety.
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