ball lads up here don't appreciate, because they do. If you've with them—and I can see you are—they'll wallop Union State to-morrow to a frazzle! (Roars of approval.) Mickey Cavendish will get up later and tell you it's going to be tough and all that. But don't believe him. It's the bunk! To-morrow is Tate's day and no power on earth can change that! (Hysterics from the audience.) Now, somebody once told me that it helped football players to keep their heads up if they had something nice and new to keep them up in. So, ever since, I've been bringing around these new headguards at about this time. And it's always worked! (Cries of "You bet it has!" and "Atta boy, 'Cupid'!") Without any further bull then, I'll present the first headguard to the man every Union State gets heart failure over if you so much as mention his name—Captain Trask!"
The cheer master sprang to his feet. "Long cheer for Captain Trask!" he barked. Harold yelled himself red in the face with the rest of the undergraduate body.
Trask set an example for the rest of the team by thanking Williams for the present, shaking hands with him and not making a speech. Next came Crawford, and he got nearly as big a hand as the captain. And so on down the line to big Mershon, the center.
