Pulp Fiction, 1943 · page 34 of 116
12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 34: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 32 from "12 Sports Aces" This is story prose from a sports fiction pulp magazine. The narrative follows a character named Chick through a conflict with teammates Art Elliot and Moose Bradley over Chick's earlier attempts to deliberately create enemies on his football team. The page depicts the escalating tension culminating in a fight in the locker room before a crucial game between Bluefield and Middleton, then shifts to describing the opening moments of the football match itself, with Chick watching anxiously from the bench as Middleton's offense threatens his team's goal line.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
32 12 SPORTS ACES BOS See ent A sober teres oD 8 r0Gs Gs Geter Gees SC 01 eel cee 5Ger Ge es Ge 11 D6 Oe Ges Ge 0G 4s DOG Gre Dah ce De Be DO GHGs G4 Ov Gs Der Co Dre Pre G of Oi Oe Pee Omenrge so his hand, slapped Chick on the shoulders. “We're in,’ Art Elliot shouted. “You did it, palsy. We'll sweep the slate, It'll be a landslide.” “But look what I teld them... .” “Stop it,” Elliot eut in. “Those other guys filled their ears with promises and lies and monkey business, But you were smart. You went up there and told the bitter truth, No phony promises. These ‘are times when people want to know the - yeal lowdown and you gave it to them.” Chick shook his head ruefully, He was licked. ‘There was no use trying any more, He simply couldn’t find a real bona fide enemy. The whole scheme had worked in reverse. He was more popular than ever. He might as well concede defeat to his dad, Coaeh Haley. WAS Saturday, the day Middleton brought their powerhouse machine to Bluefield to renew a traditional rivalry. And thereby hung the success of the sea- son for both elevens. In the dressing room Chick was his old bright and cheery self. He had quit trying to track down ene- mies. He went over to Art Elliot, lifted an encouraging hand to his back. “Let’s see you go in there the way you did last week, Art,” Chick chortled. “You were the best on the field,” The tackle’s head jerked up. ‘What do you mean the best? I was mousetrapped all over the place, You said so yourself.” “Forget what I said,” Chick said. “That was last Saturday, I was trying to work up a grudge against the world taen,” Moose Bradley sidled up beside Chick. “Get a load of that,” he bit out, “That proves what I’ve been saying, Chick xeally meant those things he said about the Beta Kappa. He tried to sell us out. Go ahead and ask him if that isn’t the truth. He’s sore at the whole team be- cause I beat him out of his job.” “What about it?” Elliot asked tersely. “He’s right and he’s wrong,” Chick said. “T’ll admit I was out to make ene- mies. But I can explain—” “You don’t have to,”’ Elliot cut in fierce- ly. “T’lb tell you one thing, brother, You've got enemies now—a whole room full of them. Just to show that I’m not fooling— catch this.” Art Elliot’s big fist whipped out. It brushed past Chick’s jaw. Something be- | gan to burn in Chick that had never burned before. He leaped forward swing- ing at both Moose and Elliot. Half the team leaped on Chick and Chick was try- ing to slug it out with all of them. The fracas came to an abrupt finish when Coaeh Haley entered the room. “Save it, Chick,” he said tartly. “Save it for the bench.” Out on the greensward minutes later the battle got underway, The green-shirt- ed Middleton man sent the kick-off boom- ing down to the goal line. Al Jenkins picked it out of the air, running it back to the fifteen-yard stripe. Bluefield tested the forward wall and the attempt yielded nothing. The teams reeked and socked into each other during the first period. Neither out- fit could get a sustained drive underway. It was power football. The gains were short and the hard-charging inemen per- mitted no breakaway runs. Middleton showed first signs of offensive strength. -They’d been pounding, pounding at the tackle slot, trying to force Moose Bradley wide and spring the ball-carrier through the gap. : On the bench, Chick squirmed and fidgeted. The locker-room episode had him still sizzling. He looked out there and saw what was happening. The green shirts were pounding Moose Bradley hard. They - were shooting for a loophole, trying to force Moose into making that single mis- . take. And since Moose was a not teo ex- perieneed sophomore, there existed the possibility that he’d make it. He was be- ginning to show his greenness, too. Mid- dleton was a lot different from the other teams that Moose had run into, Their battering attack was throwing a double burden on Art Elliot’s shoulders. On a buck-lateral, a Middleton back swung wide of tackle. This time Elliot was spuled out of the play. The wing- back scampered past the scrimmage line. He had no trouble with Moose because Moose was caught flatfooted and sucked GOmichdoo S (C@