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Updated: June 12, 2025
Tears of a real patriotism came when, at the critical moment of a losing game against the Minnesota Military Institute, with sunset forlorn behind bare trees, the veteran cheer-leader flung the hoarse Plato rooters into another defiant yell. It was the never-say-die of men who rose, with clenched hands and arms outstretched, to the despairing need of their college, and then Lord!
Griffith swung on Ken's straight ball and, quite by accident, blocked a little bunt out of reach of both Dean and Ken. It was a safe hit. Conroy stepped into Ken's fast ball, which ticked his shirt, and the umpire sent him down to first amid the vociferous objections of the Wayne rooters. Three runners on bases and no one out.
But the applause died away like magic almost as quickly as it started; for everybody knew how essential it was in a grim struggle like this that the players should be allowed to hear the signals called out by their leaders. The hilarity of the Harmony rooters increased when Oldsmith, right halfback, crashed through left tackle for a gain of 8 yards, dragging a couple of Chester tacklers with him.
In their half of the inning, West Point put men on first and second, but that was the best they could do. So it dragged along to the seventh inning. Army rooters were now sure that West Point's star pitcher had been found at last, and that Lehigh would have rare luck to score again today. But West Point didn't seem able to score, either, and Lehigh had the one needed dot.
Allandale was not cheering now; Belleville rooters were strangely quiet; for, so far, the outcome of the great race was still wrapped in mystery; but the solution would soon come, they knew. Another heavy boom told that a second runner was just around the bend, and when a third discharge quickly followed the crowd knew there was going to be an exciting finish to the Marathon.
The match with Belleville proved a walkover for Scranton, much to the delight of all the local rooters, and the utter humiliation of the boys from the neighboring town. Tyree was at his very best, which meant that few among the Belleville batsmen could touch his slants and drops and speedy balls.
One good run now was likely to wind up the game, for Chester could never hope to retrieve such a misfortune. Visiting rooters were frenzied, and every little forward movement on the part of their team was greeted with a burst of yelling that sounded almost like the discharge of a cannon, it came so suddenly, and died out again as quickly. Oldsmith was the dangerous man, Jack well knew.
On the promenade-deck Vanderlyn was acting as the leader of enthusiastic rooters for his native land. With his mother, whose interest in the old German and his daughter he now fostered very eagerly, he stood close by the rail across which he had vaulted when Moresco had assaulted the old man.
Nearly three hundred other boys were walking about on the field, or lying down under the trees. Already the South Grammar boys were on the field, practicing by way of warming up. "Hello! Here come the bluebells!" yelled a group of South Grammar fans and rooters. "Blue? You bet they'll be blue when the game is over!" "Hey, Prescott! What'll you take for the letters on your shirt?"
He saw a glittering mass, a broad, moving band of color. Everywhere waved Place flags, bright gold and blue. White faces gleamed like daisies on a golden slope. In the bleachers close to the first base massed a shirt-sleeved crowd of students, row on row of them, thousands in number. Ken experienced a little chill as he attached the famous Place yell to that significant placing of rooters.
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