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ON THE SIDE LINES.
In the writeup of the Monday game
the papers state that Massingail was
very much hampered in his‘ broken
field running. Well, there was noth
ing very extraordinary about that.. If
we remember well, at one time he
seemed to be very much hampered
with Captain Barnes and another red-
jersied demon sitting on his prostrate
form. If the fates had permitted his
running a few more times with the
ball, and had thus given our men more
opportunities of tackling him, we be
lieve that his onward march to the
hospital would not have been in any
way hampered.
That beautiful drop-kick of Doggie’s
was the occasion of an exhibition of
much hilarity, at least for those seat
ed in the grandstand. By the great
horn-spoon, what has Coach Moran got
on his team, any way? No wonder
the breath of the yellow-decked war
riors was taken suddenly away.
That boy Cretcher was a wonder,
always getting his man, and playing
fiercely on the offensive and defensive
at all times. Cretcher let them know
that he was in the game from the
start. His recovery of that ball near
the center of the field easily put us in
line for a further advance into Var
sity territory.
What were those resounding crashes
that we heard in the last quarter of
play? Oh, they were nothing but the
din and confusion arising from Beas
ley’s terrific line plunging. Why, he
would rather do that than eat a
square meal. Coach Moran finally got
him impressed with the importance
of keeping his head down, and so
there was nothing else to do but to
wade right through. If Coach had
rigged up one of those old battering
rams of the Romans and put behind it
six of the most stalwart men in
school, he would not have had a more
effective machine than Beasley with
his noodle down. In the last plunge
he actually carried across the line
three yellow men, one impaled by his
dining-room on Beasley’s head and
two others behind, in all stages of
posture.
How about that big Swede who
played guard? That was old Lambert,
who, when the signal was called,
opened a hole in the line that you
could have driven an ox wagon
through. Notwithstanding the fact
that he was severely crippled, he
played a good game and his opponents
Still have Doc rubbing the sore spots.
If anyone inquires as to the identity
of that little fellow who played right
end—well, just tell him that that was
George Altgelt, of San Antonio. He
has had no previous experience, nor
has he coached any other teams, but,
! of far more importance, he has worked
! faithfully for three years on the grid-
| iron, and as a result his name will go
; down in history for his Monday’s per-
[ formance and will be recalled with the
same enthusiasm as those of “Choc,”
Hamilton, Deware and Schmidt. The
way in which he got down the field
on punts, and slapped the big men on
the opposing side right and left, never
failing in getting the man with the
ball, was simply marvelous. Truly,
hard work and grit will bring out the
ma nany time if you will only give
him time enough.
A very funny incident occurred dur
ing the first quarter of the game.
When Bateman was injured, in the
early stages of the conflict, Dutch
Hohn ran up to him and anxiously
exclaimed: “Are you hurt, Balenti,
are you hurt?” It is needless to state
that the eleven husky players about
one and the same time turned several
different shades of color.
Talk about your good passing, but
McDowell had Bland skinned more
ways than a farmer has of coming to
town. He held his man with ease, and
never failed to clear the path for one
of those center plunges. Yes, Varsity,
Mac is one of those men who has had
no experience, but lots of grit and
determination. And now look at him
on his pedestal!
“Vy, didn’t you see my son blaying
in dose A. & M. lines? Der von dat
said, ‘Get him, poys!’ Yes, dot vas
mein poy, und say, didn’t he pick oop
dot ball like it vas a potato andt pass
it ofer to der runner, on that tackles
shift blay? You pets he blay, und if
he hadn’t he petter not come ‘around
to Yorktown any more. I disinherit
him.”
Did you see Tombstone, the one
who, when he gets hot, turns red in
the fact and shows his teeth? Yes, I
would hate to meet him on a dark
night and let him grin at me like that.
I "would at once think about my life
insurance and prepare for a hasty
transfer to other regions. Yes, he was
in the game, too, a substittue but a
good one, and when he came out he
left the impression, or rather several
impresisons, that he had been there.
History repeated itself. Just as the
Cubs and Jim Jeffries could not come
back, so likewise did the men from
Austin fail to put up the real style of
championship ball. They were too
old; they had done played their tune,
and hence were out for good. The
mind was willing, but the flesh was
weak. “Here's to youth and strength!”
♦
K-e-a-r-n-s? Yes, Kearns. That was
the one who played quarter. Yes, he
was that substittue quarterback.
What do you think of him? Catch the
ball, did you say? Why, yes, just like
catching those hot biscuits that Sbisa
doesn’t give us. Oh, yes, he is a great
general, all right. Good as Napoleon.
Knew just what to do and how to do
it. Oh, sure he will be here for three
more years.
The big, clumsy guy who, when run
ning with the ball, looked like Arnold
Winklereid coming down the pike and
clearing the road for liberty? Why,
that was old Bateman. Whenever he
made one of his line plunges the re
sult somewhat resembled the Cincin
nati riot. No, he is not as graceful as
an antelope while running, nor does
he skim the ground in a manner simi
lar to that of a bird. When he runs
you do not need the glass to pick him
out, for he is all run. Oh, he is here
for three more years, and watch him
develop as the years roll by.
No, we did not send in Cornell of
’08 fame, but only Schaedel, one of
last year’s scrubs. Why, sure he did
well. What else could you expect of
him? When he took Lambert’s place
the other side thought that they had
a white elephant on their hands, for
there was no going through him. Yep,
he is old in years, but the team has
to have old heads on it to somewhat
steady it, but he is fairly new at the
game. Nope, he did not play under
an assumed name nor did he ever
coach others.
It is needless to say that Captain
Barnes handled his man with ease.
The manner in which he caught two
or three of his opponents by the neck
and hurled them to the ground re
minds us of a certain hike to the
Brazos two years ago, when Barnes
lifted the barrels of water out of the
wagon and placed them on the ground.
Was the game over? Why, didn’t you
see old Barnes make a dive for that
ball and carry it triumphantly from
the field? Yes, that was a sign that
we had won. Keep still, my friend,
for in 1911 we will again repeat Mon
day’s glorious performance.
That long, lean, hungry, mangy cuss
was none other than old Whyte of
Holy Trinity. No, he did not quite
come up to Kirkpatrick’s standard,
but consider, this is his first year
here. He did not show up to advan
tage at first on account of his being
in such fast company. He was like
the diamond which the little nigger
was playing with in Africa; we did
not know his real value. He has three
more years before him, and when he
does develop we will have to procure
several fast runners to bring back
the ball. Only a substitute, but gee,
what a sub!
In reviewing the work of our heroes,
dear reader, let us not forget those
sub-heroes, the men who lay anxiously
on the side lines waiting for an oppor
tunity to distinguish themselves.
Who made it possible for the men to
achieve such a victory? Who, in
scrimmages, gave them a harder game
than that at Arkansas? Who twice
defeated them and brought down upon
their heads the wrath of a Moran?
Why, these same scrubs. Who will
next year help build up the greatest
team that A. & M. will ever possess?
Why, the scrubs. Gentlemen, let us
take off our hats to the scrubs!
Quite right. Flinchum was there.
No, he does not say much, but woe
to those who tread on his toes! All
you have to do is to wave a red flag
in front of his eyes and tell him to
sic ’em. Then stand back and watch
all Rome howl. No, he has not played
at Carlisle or at Haskell, but he has
been tutored by Coaches Moran and
Andrews. Watch him develop.
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