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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 1, 1902)
THE BATTALION. which made the game very unpleasant for the players. Locally Company C has an exceptionally fast and gritty little team, having won every game. A* & M. vs. Trinity. The return game with Trinit}' - , long looked forward to by A. & M., was played at Herald Pafk in Houston Friday, Nov. 21st, before a small crowd. The morning was cloudy with drizzling rain but the evening was bright and pleas ant overhead, though very muddy under foot, which doubtless kept away many who would have liked to have seen the game. At 3:30 A. & M. kicked off and in just four minutes scored her first touchdown’ Trinity was unable to stop the fierce line plunges of the guards’ back formation, of to advance the ball through A. & M.’s line. Two more touchdowns were made in the first half and both converted into goals, making the score 17 to o in favor of A. & M. Up to this time the crowd had been very quiet, but during the rest between halves the A. & M. aggregation of rooters arrived on their belated train and soon the air was rent with their yells. The second half was a repetition of the first, except A. & M. paid more attention to end runs and succeeded for the first time this session in making gains in this way. Toward the latter part of the game the A. & M. substitutes were given a chance to practice, Hammer relieving Carpenter on left end, Pirie taking Blake’s place at right half, and Bartley going in at left half in place of Davis. Seventeen points were made this half, raising the score to 34 points for A. & M. No A. & M. players were hurt, but Sims and Dickey of Trinity received painful though not serious bruises. Time of halves—25, 20. Officials — Platt, of Lafayette; Choate, of Nashville C. Tulane Versus A. and M. J. S. Graves, McKinney, Tex. The sporty gamely place their “mon,” The good abuse their rights, As on the field of battle run, Their true and chosen knights. As in the time when ’twas the rule For knights to fight for fame, These trusty few defend their school, Her honour and her name. They have no steel and feathered crests, No lances, nor no darts, But still beneath those manly breasts Beat true and loyal hearts. No single herald loud proclaims, But hundreds do declare, And rising shout the welcome names Of Davis and Deware. And then the air is filled with cries For this the team they love so well, And high into the Southern skies Ascends the college yell. But look! they crouch, the whistle sounds And cuts November’s air, And far away the oval bounds Propelled by stout Deware. It rises, curves, and then descends, ’Tis caught—’tis held—’tis down.
