|
The Second Game
In the second game Chaffey suffered her only defeat of the season. It
is not surprising though, when it is taken into consideration that Chaffey
had only been together two weeks and that they were playing the heaviest
team in the league. Their team averaged 180 lbs., while our team averaged
147 lbs. We were defeated 14-0.
The third game was with South Pasadena. It was a very easy game, Chaffey
making her largest score of the season in it. The first squad played only
about half the game. During the third quarter, when the second team was
playing, South Pasadena scored. The score, in reality, was 59-0. The seven
points were made against the second team.
On Saturday, November 1, Chaffey and Long Beach clashed on the latter's
field. The Beach Combers were outplayed by the Tigers all through the game.
The Tiger warriors, urged by the rooters, scored a touchdown in the second
quarter by bucking the line. The second touchdown came in the third quarter
when Swan received a long forward pass. Both goals were kicked by South.
A few minutes after the second touchdown a safety was tallied for Chaffey,
the final score stood 16-0.
The Chaffey boys played a hard game, and although walked on several
times, they always came back, which was more than could be said of their
heavier opponents. Although some of the Long Beach students were a little
sore, nevertheless our playing was so splendid we made them sing
our praises, though perhaps in undertone.
The Long Beach coach himself said the Chaffey team was the fastest that
had played theirs for a number of years, and that our little fellows kept
them guessing. The Chaffey rooters were scattered all over the grounds,
and although our windiest wind jammer [cheer leader] was absent, we had
three substitute breezes [junior cheer leaders] who endeavored to lead
the scattered family of Chaffeyites in a vain attempt to make a "big noise."
Had the rooters shown the co-operation that was shown by the team, the
yells of the Long Beach rooters would have been drowned out.
|
|
The Kick Off
Poised like a dear before flight, stood the orange and black line, with
the sun streaming into their eager and grim faces. Opposite, leaning forward,
and ever ready, the confident triangle of green awaited the kick no less
eagerly than the striped "Tigers," who faced them.
Down from a dull, blue sky, from the dark, lowering, menacing clouds,
the sun shown; its bright, fleeting rays were like a prophecy to
that silent "Tiger" line.
On those long, densely packed bleachers, the crowd, who a moment before
seemed like a flock of rhythmical, honking geese, settled to a calm from
which no whisper emanated. Even the dog, lying in front of his intent master,
forgot to wag his tail. A hawk, far up in that rifted sky, poised in his
slow, balanced flight to watch the intently quiet scene below.
Sharp and clear, cutting the thick air, came the whistle of the referee,
and in that moment the death-like silence was broken. The Tiger line moved
forward as one man, gaining force with each step, until out of that hurling
line rose a brown streak of pigskin. The crowds broke into one riotous
yell, the hawk moved on past as the orange and black streak hit the green
and blended into one indistinct blur. The game was on.
- Charles Benson
|
