Evening Star Newspaper, October 20, 1935, Page 94

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Simply add boiling water to dissolved Quick Elastic—no mixing, no lump starcl Ends sticking and scorching. Restores elasticity and that soft charm of newness. THANK YOU. -, liUBINGER Co., the purchase uick Elastie Starch, and your free folder, *“That Wonderful Way to Hot Starch.” ,_-_---_-- ¢ je8 2 2 | (S — I 3 s THIS WEEK Who’s the Real Hero? The human missile cut down Nevel. Borries, sweeping the field with quick eye, was astonished to find himself free of the tackler who had barred his way. He stretched those lanky legs of his like a thorough-bred race horse of his own native Kentucky and raced some thirty-five yards to a touchdown. It was an extremely brilliant play by Borries. Even the Columbia stands noisily acknowledged that. Navy's goat blinked and butted at the un- military jubilation of the Midshipmen on the sidelines. ‘‘Buzz” Borries had turned in the first of many brilliant runs on the way to what was almost unanimous recognition as an all-Amer- ican back of 1934. As this was happening, Midshipman Louis Robertshaw, center of Navy’s team, was picking himself up and pre- paring to go back to work. Midship- man Robertshaw it had been who, after passing the ball accurately to Fullback Clark as the play started, had cross-blocked a Columbia oppo- nent, then had gone downfield, had followed Nevel of Columbia to the outside and at the critical instant when the play hung in the balance, had thrown himself across Nevel’s legs in a perfect body block. Without that body block by Robert- shaw, the sure tackling Nevel must have nailed Bcerries, because he had ! him at his mercy, hemmed in by the sideline. But Robertshaw, thinking | and acting in the same instant and performing an act outside the usual category of a center’s duties, had oblit- | erated Nevel. Thus Borries had been permitted to go cruising on for the ecore on which the entire game hinged. Again, 1 heard no cheers for Mid- shipman Robertshaw. I saw no head- lines in Sunday morning’s sport pages devoted to Midshipman Robertshaw. But I'm asking you, with all due credit to Midshipman Borries — now Ensign Borries of the U.S.S. Arizona of the Pacific Fleet — who was the real hero on that play? No, I don’t believe Robertshaw fretted because he didn’t receive the credit due him on the play when he read the next day that the touchdown had been the product of Borries’s ““amazing elusiveness.” I didn’t think much about it in my own playing days, but during my years as a coach I have frequently pondered the amazing un- selfishness and lack of glory-seeking that mark the good varsity football players, and especially the linemen, the centers, guards and tackles. The lineman plays the football game down there in the scrimmage line and in the last analysis it is he who wins the game, even in these days of the for- ward pass, the lateral pass and the wide open play. But does he get the credit due him? Not very often. By that I don’t mean to intimate that it is always the lineman who fails to receive the credit he deserves for being the real but unsung hero of the play on which a touchdown and a game swing. There was, for instance, the case of Tommy Tomb, Columbia quarterback, on the play which scored a touchdown from the four-yard line through the middle of the Syracuse de- fense last season. If I am not mistaken, that was the first touchdown scored through the Syracuse line all season. And this was in the final game for both teams. The second quarter was well along when Columbia’s first real scoring chance came — a first down on the Syracuse five-yard line. But that ad- vantageous situation had been hard won, and when three plays at this hard-bitten, fighting Syracuse defense netted only a single yard, it looked as if this were destined to be another of those phantom, might-have-been touchdowns. ) Fourth dqwn. four to go. The ob- vious generalship, based on what had gone before, was to call for a wide run or a forward pass. Tomb called his play in the huddle. The formation un- wound. Tomb, in the No. 4, or deep back, position, rattled off his numbers, opened his hands and faded back a yard or two. As he came to a stop, he rocked on his heels. That is a habit of many backs before throwing a forward pass. Usually it is a dead give-away. Tomb knew that. It was not his habit. He was too intelligent a back for that. Continued from page five But this time he rocked on his heels. The ball, however, went to Johnny Hudasky, in the No. 3 or left halfback position. From the Syracuse line as the center passed the ball came the yell of “Pass, Pass.” The Syracuse linemen had watched Tomb. Tomb had hoped they would. Hudasky, head down but eyes front, found his hole. He drove across the goal-line between the guards, standing up. No one else had done that all season. Hudasky probably could not have done it against a Syracuse defense which had not been worried by Tomb's bit of stage play. Not even Tomb’s teammates, I be- lieve, realized the part his spontaneous, unrehearsed bit of strategy played in earning this game-winning touchdown. It caught my eye, however, and be- tween the halves I singled out Tommy Tomb. I told him that if Columbia won, permanent possession of the ball used in this, the final game of his senior year, would be his. *“Thanks, Coach,” he said. “That ball is practically up on my mantle- piece right now."” The game went on. The conquest was by no means as easy as Tomb's confidence had seemed to indicate, but in the final minute of the second half, Columbia scored a second touchdown. By this time the big crowd was start- ing to edge toward the central exit, which at Baker Field is directly behind the south goalposts. Spectators who had left their seats were packed in tightly behind the end-zone, with a low fence between them and the field. Unquestionably, a ball kicked over those goal-posts would land in the crowd. It was almost as certain that the ball, if kicked for the extra point, would find a permanent resting place in some Manhattan home instead of on Tom Tomb’s mantlepiece in Cleve- land, Ohio. And the boy deserved that ball. If you ever have played varsity football you know what such a trophy means, especially at twenty-one. I hoped he would not kick it. I need not have worried. They lined up for the extra point. Tomb called the signal for the customary placement kick. Then, instead of permitting the attempt at placement goal, he grabbed the ball as it came back from center and scooted for the corner of the field. They nailed him at the one-yard line, But the game was over. The final score, 12 to 0, was as good as 13 to 0. I wondered, though, whether Tomb’s last play had been one of scoring strategy — and it wasn’t bad from that point of view — or whether it had been dictated by his desire to retain the trophy of war. 1 asked him. “You said I could have the ball, Coach,” he said. *“The field judge told me the game was over as we lined up for the extra point. I saw all those people out there behind the goal-posts. 1 knew I'd never see my ball again if we kicked it. So I decided to hang onto that leather like a baby brother. That was all right, wasn't it, Coach?”’ I told him the ball was his for keeps, that he had earned it and to keep a tight hold on his trophy going down- town on the subway. Our American college football is one of the most complex team games played anywhere by boys or men. | Eleven players, each with distinctive | and usually contrasting duties, must so operate as to make the finished play a precicely, perfectly timed maneuver. The next time the opportunity pre- | sents itself, watch your favorite team run through signal practice. Try to follow the movements of the players | and the course of the ball. The ball is passed from center. One back spins with it. His backfield mates drive in different directions to carry out the ! deception. The running linemen pull out as interferers. The remaining line- | men go through their motions of cross- | blocking or of going downfield to block | off the secondary defense. For every | man a job. Then consider the fact that next Saturday afternoon all of this must be | done against the berserk opposition of eleven equally active and energetic young men attempting to do all in their power to wreak havoc— and per- mitted the use of their hands, a priv- ilege denied the offensive team by the rules. After fifteen years of coaching, the precision of a well coached football team is still a cause of wonderment to me. I confess it. And I admit freely the difficulty of the casual or even the well versed spectator in determining accu- rately just what goes on in each play and where the major share of the credit for success or blame for failure should be bestowed. That, 1 know, is the chief reason why in so many cases the boy around whom the crucial play swings fails to receive the credit he deserves. Still vivid in my mind is the remarkable block made by Jim Mooney, George- town tackle, which permitted Provin- cial, a Georgetown end, to run 98 yards for a touchdown in a memorable game against New York University at the Yankee Stadium several years ago. Had it not been for Mooney's instinc- tive but withal intelligent action, Provincial would have been pulled down within five yards of his starting point. But Mooney's rugged body cut downthe N. Y. U.star and Provincial’s flight to goal and glory was unchecked. Provincial knew who was the real hero on that play and made no secret of it. Mooney knew, too. But he never mentioned it. He displayed no rancor when, scanning the newspapers, he read encomiums on his punting but no mention of the essential part he had played in the scoring of the game’s only touchdown. The players have the correct per- spective. It's their game and they play | it for what it is worth, gaining their reward so much more in terms of the respect of their teammates than in | public adulation. So, you see, it is not for the sake of the boys that 1 am advising you to | look for the real hero on the play that wins the football game. But for your own sake, try to look behind and beneath to recognize the job that is being done by these un- sung members of 1 = crashing cast of the gridiron. You'l: zet a great deal more of satisfaction from watching the game if you try to see what really makes the play go and discover who is the real hero. F. F. D.— First Family of Dogdom Continued from page two good romp. Susan, though young, was on her dignity, and actively disliked these friendly antics over her head. She replied to them by a series of angry, though quite unavailing snaps in mid-air, usually missing her tor- mentor by feet, not inches. The chief drawback to my owning this dog is that he has been taught by words of command in Mallorcan, a sort of mongrel Spanish. In conse- quence, if I want him to “lie down” I have to make a guttural sound like “Jaou,” which causes the bull-terrier to gaze at me with an injured expres- sion — I am sure he feels that I am a complete lunatic. To prove that these hounds have good noses, I remember one instance when we had been taking care of a young Ibiza hound for some American friends who had to go away for a few weeks. When they came to tetch him away one evening, they were loud in their praises of how well he looked and how much fatter he had got. As soon as they had gone, 1 discovered that while we had been talking he had . smelled the row of supper bowls which were waiting ready in the kitchen, and had eaten all four of the dogs’ suppers! Which perhaps accounted for his in- creased girth! One day, seeing my dog lying posed against one of the lovely tall vases made in the local pottery works, I was so struck with the unison of the two that I decided to put them in the same picture, as they were obviously in- tended to be together — both modelled in perfect lines and contours and both descendants of Phoenician art. October 20, 1935 Coming FEATURES E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM *““Legacy of Adventure*’ . 1 Beginning a new mystery series, ‘' Legacy of Adventure,” by one of the world's favorite writers, E. Phillips Oppen- heim. Was Desmond Rooke's death accident, suicide or mur- der? This thrilling first adven- ture gives the clue. SHIRLEY SEIFERT “* 4ll- America, 1935 Glory was heaped upon the toach, the school and the boy —and behind the headlines lay the real story of the great halfback’s success, a mother who had sacrificed everything for the one she loved. By the ever-popular Shirley Seifert. HAL BORLAND **Ten Paces By Moonlight™ Clarita had given her heart to two men and now knew that it belonged forever only to one. And both men had but a single code, the code of the old west— whichmeant ten paces by moon- light. A love story by the well known author, Hal Borland. BARBARA STANWYCK “Bull’s Eye Barbara”’ From a ten-dollar a week telephone job to missionary work, to dancing, and finally to stardom, is but part of the dramatic story of the orphan girl who fought her way to the heights. Barbara Stanwyck’s friend, Jim Tully, tells it all. -~ oM~ e - s L \ I g ¢ I 1 \ I