TALKS WITH A KID BROTHER
"That big, fat Freshman can give some of you fellows points in the way of spirit," they said to the 'Varsity eleven. Besides, it was good practice for the guards, wielding such a great weight—like a medicine-ball.
After two years of this, most of Simon's fat was worn off by the trampling, shoving and butting the 'Varsity gave him; the rest was turned into solid muscle by the trampling, shoving and butting he gave the 'Varsity. Also, he was studying the game. The crowd had stopped laughing at him. "That's all right," they said, wagging their heads, "he's got the right spirit, even if he hasn't got the right shape for making the team." In his Junior year he was taken to New York on Thanksgiving Day as a substitute—with a huge sweater pulled down over his hips. And in his Senior year he was on the team, the champion football team of America. The fearless way he used to charge down the field like a fighting elephant and smash those old-fashioned flying wedges—by flopping down in front of them—is now a matter of football history.
258
