Читать книгу Short Circuits - Stephen Leacock - Страница 28

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THE OFFICIAL REPORT

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Williamson got the ball and opened up with a low kick down field against the wind. Smith punted. Jones fumbled. Brown fell down. Robertson got up. Peterson tackled low. Johnson kicked high. Thompson touched down. Jackson converted. Quarter time. Jones kicked. Diplock ran four yards. Brown was put off. Thompson came on. . . . Yards. . . . More yards . . . half time . . . quarter kick . . . punt . . . yards . . . points . . . game.

AS SEEN FROM THE STADIUM BENCHES, ROW 4, BY MISS FLOSSIE FITZCLIPPET BROWN, AND REPORTED TO HER GIRL FRIEND IN CONVERSATION.

Certainly it was a wonderful game. I had on my wine-colored dress and the hat to match, and it was cold enough so that you could wear fur around your neck. That's one of the great things about football games, you can wear fur. That's why they play so late in the season, at least so some of the boys said. Most of the girls had on cloth coats, so of course you don't see as much color as at a ball game in the summer. But the two teams wore bright-colored sweaters.

One side--I think it was our side--had bright blue, and the other side were in dark red. But they are not a bit careful of their suits when they play and some of them got into a frightful mess from falling down by accident on the ground. But when they get too dirty the umpire turns them out of the game and takes on a man with a new sweater. The boys explained it all to me.

But I really know a lot about the game because my brother Ted plays on the team. They give another touch of color by having some of the boys stand along the edge of the ground with bright bathrobes on. The umpires have on white sweaters and there are people called referees and they wear long white coats to give a touch of light.

The game was terribly exciting. The side that I think was our side were all kicking the ball one way and the other side the other way. Jack was sitting on one side of me and Bruce on the other and they explained everything so clearly--all about the yards and the different points--that I could understand practically all of it very soon after it had happened. Sometimes, of course, only the referee understands and the scoring has to be done on a special board at the end of the field so as to add it up. But I could tell which was our side all the time even when they changed courts after each rubber.

I saw ever so many people that we knew there because where we were in the grandstand, by standing up and looking round you could see practically everybody. I thought a great many of the hats perfectly sweet. They seem to be wearing softer colors this autumn. I saw one hat of Valencia blue felt that was just a dream.

Papa and Uncle Peter were there, but I don't think they saw us. They seemed to be looking at the game all the time.

It got tremendously exciting toward the end. Both sides were exactly even with the same number of sets and the boys explained to me that it was just a question now which side could knock down the referee and sit on him. No doubt it sounds brutal, but really when you are there you get so excited that you forget. Again and again as he slipped in and out putting the ball into position, they nearly got him, but each time he slipped out.

Just at the end it got so exciting--I don't know what it was--something to do with yards, that I stood right up on the seat. So did a lot of the girls. Jack and Bruce had to hold me by the ankles or I might have fallen.

And in the end, I think that the side that I think was our side won the whole game! Wasn't that splendid?

Oh, football is just delicious.

AS REPORTED BY MR. EDWARD CHUNK BROWN, SENIOR, FATHER OF MISS FLOSSIE FITZCLIPPET BROWN, OVER THE COFFEE AND CIGARS AT HIS DINNER TABLE THAT EVENING.

You didn't see the big game to-day? You certainly missed it. My boy Ted was playing in it. You ought to have been there. Ted was playing in the forward line, and I must say Ted put up a great game. I tell you, this college football is about as fine and manly a sport as you can get.

Look at Ted. Why, Ted was just a little shrimp till I got him started into football at the prep (I was always keen on the game. My brother and I both played on the college team in 1895, though Peter wasn't what you'd call really first class). Well, look at Ted now. Why, he's heavier than I was myself.

Yes, sir, that was a great game today. At one time they broke right through the center and they'd have got clear away with it but for a tackle that my boy Ted made--one of the best tackles I ever saw, at least in the game today. Of course, they do less running than we did, but Ted got in one pretty good run today. Ted's quick on his feet, and what's more, Ted can use his head. Now there was one time to-day when Ted--Ted--Ted--Ted--Ted.

AS REPORTED BY MISS MARY DEEPHEART BROWN, ELDER SISTER OF MISS FLOSSIE FITZCLIPPET BROWN AND DAUGHTER OF EDWARD CHUNK BROWN, SENIOR, IN A CONFIDENTIAL LETTER TO ONE OF HER SIX ONLY FRIENDS.

I must tell you all about the perfectly wonderful football game last Saturday. I hadn't seen Ernest for three days and I was afraid that something had happened or that I had said something, because once before Ernest said that something I said had made him feel just terrible for days and days till he knew that I hadn't said what I said.

And then I got a note from Ernest to ask me if he might take me to the game, and so I knew it was all right. Papa said, at first, that he would come with us, but I was so afraid that it might mean a chill, that I got Flossie to get Mother to get Ted to get Uncle Peter to take him.

Anyway, it meant that I went with Ernest by ourselves and there was no one else there, and we had awfully good seats, right up at the back in a corner. There was a post partly in front of us, but it didn't prevent us from seeing anything.

All through the first half of the game--football games are divided into three or four halves of about five minutes each--Ernest kept looking into my face in the strangest way. I felt that he had something that he wanted to say, and I looked back at him to try to read in his face what it was, but of course Ernest has the kind of face that is hard to read even when you look right into it.

Once Ernest seemed to be just going to say something, but at that very minute, there was a lot of shouting and yelling, something must have happened, I think, to do with the football. But presently, in the second half when the game was less exciting, because I think that both sides were exactly even or something, and the time nearly all gone, Ernest quite all of a sudden, put out his hand and took mine and said that there was nobody in the world who meant to him what I did and that ever since he had known me he cared for nothing except me, and that the law office are now giving him over four hundred dollars a month and that if I wouldn't marry him he would give up the law altogether and take the first boat to Costa Rica.

And I said I didn't know what father would say and Ernest said he didn't care a damn what father would say (Ernest is so manly in the way he talks) and he offered to break my father's neck for me if I liked. So I said that I hadn't ever meant to get married but to be some sort of sister, but that if he liked, I would get married this time for his sake. And just then one of the caretakers came to tell us that the game was over and the people had gone and they wanted to sweep up the seats. So we went home together.

I think football is a perfectly wonderful game.

AS REPORTED BY PETER HASBIN BROWN, BROTHER OF EDWARD, SENIOR, AND UNCLE OF FLOSSIE, MARY AND TED.

Yes, I saw the game to-day. Pretty rotten. Ed's boy Ted was playing, and so I went with Ed and his little boy, Billie, to see the game. I hadn't seen a game since 1900, but of course Ed and I both played on the college team, though Ed was no good. As I see it, they've pretty well spoiled the old game. There doesn't seem to be a rule that they haven't changed. Why, nowadays you can hardly understand it. In my time, of course, the game was far more exciting.

Well, for one thing, the fellows could kick further, and the men were heavier and could shove harder and run faster. Now the whole game seems just dead. My nephew, Ted, has the makings of a good player in him; he plays something of the kind of game I did. I've told him a lot of things. But you take all these rules about yards, and downs and offside play, it's all changed; a man can't understand them. I sat next to my little nephew Billie--he's Ed's son, he's eight--and I said, "Can you understand it, Billie?" and he said, "Not quite, Uncle Peter."

There you are, he couldn't understand it, and I said, "It was a darned sight better game thirty years ago, Billie," and he said, "Was it, Uncle Peter?" He's a bright kid.

But the way they have the game now, there is no interest in it. There was a whole lot of shouting and yelling, but no enthusiasm. A lot of them were waving their hats and hooting till they were hoarse, but there was no enthusiasm. When I used to play and some one would shout from the touch line (we used to stand right around the game then), "Go it, Pete!" well, that was enthusiasm. You don't get that now. Oh, no, the game is gone to hell.

AS REPORTED BY BILLIE COMINGUP BROWN, AGED 8, YOUNGER SON OF EDWARD BROWN, SENIOR.

Gee! It was wonderful! Gee!

BY MRS. UPTOWN BROWN--OTHERWISE "MOTHER"--PARENT OF FLOSSIE, MARY, TED, AND BILLIE, AND WIFE OF EDWARD CHUNK BROWN, SENIOR.

No, please don't go yet. We've plenty of time for another rubber. They're all at the football game. My little boy Ted is playing, and my two little girls are there, too. Now, do stay! And won't you have another whiskey and soda?