I may as well tell you what our attack was; it won’t take but a minute. I figured Pelham would play their defense open all the time, ’cause they knew we couldn’t plunge and thought we might pass once in a while when we weren’t puntin’. So I had a shift that took the whole line except the left end over to the right of center. Then I had Joe back in the kickin’ position and Bixby pretty near as far back and over on the right side. Ashton and my other halfback, Warner, were up on the line, on the strong side. The ball was passed back to Joe and he made a bluff to throw it down the field on the strong side. I played my left end in the guard’s position, and the minute the ball was passed he’d let the man playin’ against him come on through. Bixby’d wait till this feller got pretty near on top of Joe and then he’d take the ball off Joe’s hand and run to their weak side. I figured on his speed to get him out of the way of the feller my left end had let through. After my end was free, he was supposed to knock their right halfback out of it. It was a good deal like the play Dickie and Benson have been usin’ all fall. It was to be used a couple of times, with shifts to both sides.
Then I had a fake kick that relied just on Joe’s speed and wouldn’t work more than once, and maybe not at all, ’cause they’d be layin’ for it and they had the men to stop it. And I had a pretty fair onside kick that I figured would work once or twice, ’cause Joe could kick ’em up in the clouds and Bixby wasn’t afraid to grab ’em when they came down.
And I had a lateral and forward pass from Joe to Ashton to Bixby. It was to be used just once. I was pretty sure it would go through, ’cause all my other passes were fakes; and, though Ashton wasn’t worth dependin’ on for anything in most plays, I’d drilled him so hard in this one that he got to doin’ it pretty good.
And then I had one pet. I’m goin’ to give it to the boys when I get ’em out there this afternoon. We called it Number 91 and it was a double-X special. The whole line except one man shifted to the right side. Then my backs lined up in tandem formation, close to the line on the right side, with Draper in the regular quarterback position. He’d call a long string of signals; and, when the other side thought the ball must be snapped pretty soon, Ashton, my fullback, would butt in and holler: “Wait a minute! Signals!”
Well, sir, nine times out of ten the other team would raise up and kind of stretch themselves while they were waitin’ for the signals to be started again; and the minute they raised up the ball was passed to Joe and he’d scoot wide round their weak end. We’d fooled the scrubs with it even when they knew what was comin’.
That was my offense. Ashton and Warner were to be sent into the line four or five times to give Joe and Bix a rest and to keep Pelham guessin’; but I knew neither of ’em could gain a foot.
Joe was to keep kickin’ and kickin’ till we were in the middle of the field, and then try somethin’ that would get us to where he could take a shot.
I had more different formations for defense than I had for attack. Pelham’s team was practically the same as the year before and I knew their plays like a book. Bix knew ’em, too, and I could rely on him to call the right defense for whatever they sprung; but I couldn’t rely on my men to do their part of it. If they’d been as strong and smart as my 1911 gang I’d have been willin’ to bet that the formations I’d planned would stop anything Pelham tried. But these boys were awful, awful green and all I could do was try to get ’em worked up to the fightin’ point and keep ’em there. I was backin’ up the line with Carey, my big guard, and I knew we were gone if anything happened to him.
Carey, Bixby and Draper—that’s what I had. And I was actually plannin’ to beat eleven seasoned football players with those three, and two of ’em had never been in a real game.
We went over to Pelham Friday mornin’ and I rode with Joe all the way, tellin’ him what I expected of him.
“You’re the baby,” I said. “If you put this over there’ll be more glory in it for you than you could win in twenty track meets or ten college courses. Keep the ball high up and you’ll gain ten yards on every swap. Don’t forget that you’ve got to stick in the game. Don’t get hurt. Signal for a fair catch every time they kick to you, no matter where you are. And don’t be a bit afraid to take a shot at those uprights whenever you’re within forty yards. You can do it.”
I had ’em out at Pelham Field on Friday afternoon. I didn’t let Joe drop kick, ’cause, as I told you, nobody but our bunch knew he could; but he punted and he caught punts till he knew what the wind was apt to do in that stadium of theirs. The rest of the boys just warmed up and I didn’t keep ’em out there long—I was afraid they might see some of those big, husky Pelham birds and get scared.
The bettin’ against us was 3 to 1. Those odds
