12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 78: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

76 12 SPORTS ACES dazzled the ends with elusive, swiveling hips. He went through tackle for four, and three more through center took him to the one-foot line, There was no hesi- tancy now, no fear of pulling a boner. He went over the top for the marker, lay there panting on the sod while the stands, the team and everybody but Mid- west went gently berserk. The score Mid- west 6—Tyler 6! It was up to Stymie’s educated toe now. He went back into punt formation. The ball snapped to Randy. But he didn’t set it down for the kick. It bobbled in his arms for a moment, and then he tucked it under his arm! ar : He ran to the left, then reversed and eut in sharply. An impregnable wall con- fronted him.. His legs pumped him for- ward. He soared into space. Over the wall he went! It was 7 to 6—Tyler, when the gun eracked the end of the game. Every Tyler maan came off the field grinning like a huge, panting jungle cat that has just finished a meal. “What happened?” gasped Coach King, his freckled, blond face still blank with amazed disbelief. ‘“How’d you do it? What came over you?” “It was Randy,” said Stymie Smith. “When he came in there he gave us hell. Like maybe he was the big-shot player on the team and not just a—well, a serub. He told us that if this country was goin’ to win any wars, we’d have to show a helluva lot more fight than we were giving. He said, ‘If we’re stopped _by Midwest how will we look against real tough guys. Let’s go tear ’em apart.’” “Not quite,” said a quiet, seriously subdued voice. It was Randy. “I told ’em all that. But I told ’em more, too, I fig- Dre Orr Ore DeeGord oreo Gee Dre sae Lor Bor Gee Pre Ore S rahe Orr v1 Sere Gro Ger Goes ured that maybe this game seemed like small stuff, with all of them thinkin’ about tomorrow when they’d be getting in the real fight. I told ’em this was a real fight —and that this game meant a coaching job for you, coach. That Northern scouts were in the stands, ‘Let’s pay coach back for everything he’s done for us indi- vidually in past years,’ I said to them. ‘Why, coach is so damn right he won’t even tell you those scouts are here.’ ” “Hogwash! RBaloney!” said several others on the team. “Randy’s just tryin’ to cover up his own individual play!” “Right,” said King. “It was brilliant. And I want to say something more for you, Randy. That was the real Hips Eberle in there—and as great a defensive player as he is an offensive one, Yet he didn’t stop you once. That picture I pulled back in the locker room was a fake. It was a stunt I rigged up with my brother Jiggs. I thought if you forgot it was Eberle out there, you might really begin to fight.” “Randy told us it was a fake,” Stymie said. “He bawled us out that you had to pull a stunt like that on us to make us fight.” 3 “Yeah, I took a look at that picture,” Randy said. “I knew it was an old one right off. You could see the powerhouse in the background—but its windows weren’t blacked out!” King grinned. “Yes, it was a fake. But I hope you'll excuse it. After all, Randy, you pulled one yourself about Northern scouts being in the stands.” “Like fun I did!” said Randy. “Why’d you think I played like I did? Oh, no, I saw them in the stands when I came back for the second half. Here they come now. Look behind you, coach.” 2. comichook (E@)