ON THE BALL

Otago Witness, Issue 2935, 15 June 1910, Page 13

ON THE BALL

By Lko Fanning.

IN VARIOUS WAYS. AMERICAN TACTICS. THE OLD AND THE NEW. • 1 ! j : j

VL Bring l flowers, pale ..-.overs, o’er the bier to shed, A crown for the brow of the tiarly dead ! For this through its leaves hath the white rose burst, For this in the woods was the violet nursed ! Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, They -are love’s last gift. Bring ye flowers, pale flowers. / - Mrs Hemaxs. For the old American game, with its phalanxes of armoured bruisers, -much noble music of the poets can be given. Swinburne’s “Meleager Dying” should appeal to ex-Preaident Roosevelt, w!ho forbade his -son Kermit to play American football; though he did think it was comparatively safe to match Kermit -against the lion, the idiinocerous, and the hippopotamus in Africa. I am gone down to the empty weary house Where no flesh is. nor beauty, nor swift eyes No,r sound of mouth, nor might of hands and feet; But thou, dear, hide my body with thy ; voil, And with thy raiment cover foot and head. “ Nor sound of mouth ” seems to give the departing footballer the glad assurance that when the breast-plate, helmet, vizor, and greaves are done with for ever, no raucous roar of “ rooters ” will ever offend him more. Any reference to a book of ancient chivalry may warrant an impression that the modern American game had its 'origin in the old-time jousts and tourneys. The descriptions of the iron-clad knights might easily be mistaken for pen-pictures of to-day’s American gladiators. For example, M. G. Louis’s presentment of Alonzo the Brave — His vizor was closed, and gigantic his height, - _ His armour was sable to view; All pleasure and laughter were hushed at his sight; The dogs as they eyed him-drew back in affright; The lights in the chamber burned bule. How the statistics of the slain mournfully recall lines learned in boyhood—- “ Home they brought her warrior dead,” and “ bhfc warrior bowed his crested head.” American “ Roughby ” is -certainly much older than Rugby proper. The Pilgrim Fathers, or possibly earlier emigrants from Britain, introduced football of the rough-and-tumble order, at which Shakespeare scoffed. That game was a wild hurly-burly through a street or any old place, a desperate helter-skelter, one set of villia-ns hacking and kicking a passage, somehow, anyhow, through the opposing ruffiians, and terrible was the pate-break-ing and the shin-smashing. This bellicose form of football was retained in America, but ingenuity and subtlety in the new land developed armour to keep the list of casualties within reasonable dimensions. Ais on sea ; so on land it became a competition between projectile and armour—the ramming head, the fist, and the boot against greased leather, steel springs, and heavy padding,—and though the inventors have been busy in improving the defensive apparatus, the honours rather rest with the attack. It seems that in the old-fashioned game a man would hardly bo guaranteed against injury even if immured in a 400-gallon iron tank. Lloyd’s would still demand a hundred guineas premium. RUGBY TOO GIRLISH? When the Californian Universities adopted a revised version of Rugby, some of the old-timers were despondent. They were told that a better game would be seen, but they declined to be consoled, and made broody moody figures on the touchline. Some of them, renowned warriors of the old battles, gloomily watched the early Rugby matches and condemned the new fashion. One of the University “ coaches,” who toured Australasia two seasons ago in quest of Rugby notions, mentioned to the writer that many of America’s young men feared that the new game would be too “ tender,” too girlish, not enough bite. “They like to get at each other,” he said.

However, events prdvod that Rugby could supply a man with all the bruises and cuts for which his fo»dy might pine. It was found that though serious accidents were far less numerous under the new regime, such trifles as broken collarbones, dislocated knees, and sprained ankles remained fairly abundant. The men satisfied themselves that they could both give and receive knocks sufficient to ensure a pleasant Sunday in bed for themselves and foe-men. Rugby produces more mishaps in California than in Australia or New Zealand for two reasons —harder ground and harder play. The matches in California are not generally on grass, but bare ground—a “ dirt ground,” as the Americans call it. Many of the players, too, have served an apprenticeship at the old game, and have not altogether lost the old beloved habit of trying to hold antemortem inquests in the enemy. HELPED BY THE PRESS. San Francisco papers valuably helped Rugby to strengthen its footing. A meeting between the two university teams — Leland-Stanford and California —could run to two or more pages, copiously illustrated, in. the Examiner. The reporters wrote up the play with ■a detail wonderfully comical to Australasian readers. With pictures of everybody that mattered, and everybody that did not matter, and with interviews (gathered from the captains of the teams, referee, touch-judges, old-timers, and others), the recorder’s work was not all done. There were the tables of statistics to be served up, the exact tallies of kicks (punts and drops), the yards gained by each shot, the number of runs, and the territory annexed by each sprint. These lists were set side by side under the names of the teams. Surely a magnificent feast for the football enthusiasts! ‘ ‘ GLORIFIED BARRACK. ’ ’ In one of the San Francisco papers the writer has seen quite a fat paragraph devoted to the inventor of a new “stunt.” Much-boomed and famed is the man who can work out a “turn ” for the “ rooter.” In Australasia the vigorous forward is the “ rooter,” and the clamant spectator is the “ barracker. ” In America the partisan on the touch line is the “rooter.” A “ stunt” may be a war-cry, a “ gag” or something arranged for the eye rather than the ear. “Stunting” and “rooting” were highly specialised arts among the devotees of the older sport, and their importance is not overlooked by the followers of Rugby. The “rooters” are arranged in two armies facing each other. One sees just a rampart of faces, and then suddenly the university’s name or some word of happy omen, in the team’s colours, is spelled out in large letters with the “favours” borne by the “rooters.” Then at intervals they roar out the wellrehearsed shibboleths and slogans. The challenge of one cohort is definantly answered by thousands of strong throats on the other side. The main barracking is systematic. It is "done by persons thoroughly practised arid skilled in the work. “ Rooting ” on American lines should be splendid training for politics. The East, where Rugby is still viewed with suspicion by the old brigade, is critically watching the West. A recent number of a New York magazine indicated that the East desired a guarantee that the new game should be as “ dramatic ” as the old one, and the guarantee been gladly given by the West. The doubting, hesitating East has been informed by such sober,, serious men 'of integrity as university professors that Rugby is a better spectacle ' for the “rooter” than its predecessor “ Roughby.” AN AUSTRAL-ENGLISH GAME. After California had seriously undertaken to try a new form of football, sharp eyes scanned the whole world’s surface * for points. The new game is not severely English. It* is a warm blend of English and Australia,!! (Victorian), but orthodox Rugby in its leading traits. Of course, the American university visitors, who are to begin their Australasian campaign in Sydney in the middle of June, will have to play under the local code. They will have the task of losing some old habits and acquiring new ones. It is hoped they will be strictly vegetarian during their sojourn here. > A cable message at the end of April mentioned that the invaders would be strong in tackling. This news came as no surprise, for deadly collaring has always been the prominent feature of all sorts of American football. For a match or two the visitors may be disposed to cleave as husbands to the ball, for better or worse, and hang on to a tackled man after the ball has flown, and much referee lung power may be required to blow this fault out of bounds. Spectators must, therefore, be prepared for a good few stoppages in the first engagement. The game will be between 30 men and one whistle, and the whistle will prevail. Still, the Americans will probably be quick to improve by the penalties. OPEN OUT THE PLAY. Australasians who desire to keep their skins and their frames more or lees intact will be wise if they avoid bullooking tactics; whatever defects the Californian “Ruggers” may have, they will be warhorses i) the ruck. Any Australian captain who cries out “keep it close” will be giving glad tidings to the Americans. They revel in close formation. Head-to-head and foot-to-foot encounters are strong meat and strong drink to them. They left off in this business where Australasians have hardly begun. In this zone of fire they will be masters of arts engaged with freshmen. Australasian captains, who have no wish to overwork tire ambulance corns, should nlump for open work —the quick, well-placed pass, the neat, well-judged kick, and the fast chase. The Americans (though they will not be ironclad) will be formidable operators in the free-and-easy melees, but have something to learn in the finer tactics. That ' is why they embarked for Australasia.