=238. Football.=--The following is a typical football story:
=ARMY DEFEATS NAVY= It was just as the gray cloaked lads from West Point chanted in lugubrious measure before the game: Go-oo-od Night, Nayvee! Go-oo-od Night, Navy! Go-oo-od Night--Na-ay-ve-ee! The Army wins to-day! They put into the chorus all the pathos, all the long-sustained notes, all the tonsorial-parlor chords of which it is capable, and those, as you know, are many. And the Army boys, sitting in a fog which in hue just about matched their capes and caps, called the turn correctly with their vocal prediction. It was "Good Night, Navy!" to the tune of 14 points to 0. The youngsters from the west bank of the Upper Hudson were triumphant in their twentieth annual battle with the midshipmen from Annapolis by two touchdowns and their concomitant goals, one in the first period of play, the other in the third. The count of games now stands ten for the Army, nine for the Navy, and one tie. President Wilson, in a topper that got wet, and with a beaming face that was sprinkled with mist and raindrops, watched the fight and stayed until the final wild whoop from the last departing cadet had sounded through the semi-darkness that fell upon the Polo Grounds along toward 4:30 p.m. Mrs. Edith Bolling Galt, who soon is to be Mrs. Wilson, was present with her winsome smile and her white furs and her lavender orchids--fortunately, you could see her even through the haze--by the President's side. And then there were some forty thousand others, whose ranks in life ranged down from cabinet officers and generals and admirals to ordinary civilians, who dug as deep--some of them--as $20 a seat for the privilege. Yet, do you suppose that President Wilson or any official was the hero of the day? We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else, but NO. Or do you fancy that the former belle of Wytheville, Va., who is within the month to be the First Lady of the Land, was the person toward whom all eyes were directed during most of the afternoon? There were considerable numbers of field glasses focused upon the white furs and the lavender orchids and winsome smile. But again the reply is emphatically NO. The leading character, the person who ought to figure away up in the top of the headlines, the one whose name was spoken more frequently than any other, was a rough, rugged, short, stocky, right half-back named Elmer Oliphant, who, according to Army statistics, is twenty-two years old, stands 5 feet 7 inches in altitude, weighs 163 pounds, and hails from Indiana. Ollie was the boy. Before the first period of the game was more than half over, there was a fumble by a Navy back and an Army man fell upon the ball only eight yards away from the goal line of the midshipmen. There was the crash of an Army back against the Navy line, and just a little weakening. There was another impact of a cadet against a wall that was almost but not quite solid. There remained about two or three yards to go. Ollie was hurled in. He took the ball, sought coolly for the weakest spot he might find in a line that was almost impregnable at the moment, and then, instantly finding what he wanted, twisted his way backward through left tackle and fell across the chalk mark for a touchdown. The way the rest of the Army boys sank their fists into Ollie's broad back when he got up, you'd have thought he'd be in no shape for any other position than lying flat upon a stretcher. But he came calmly away from the tumult of congratulation, and as soon as he could kick the mud from between his shoe-cleats he booted the ball over the cross-bar for a goal. Throughout the rest of that period, and throughout all the next, we may skip Ollie. All he did was run around ends for distances varying from five to twenty yards, and plunge through the Annapolis line with from two to four men attached to his neck, arms, legs and back, and tear up, despite these handicaps, more earth than one of those tractor ploughs the Flivver Man is going to put on the market after he settles the European war. Jump to the third session of the game. This was scarcely under way before a long forward pass from the Navy was grabbed on the Annapolis 45-yard line by McEwen, the agile West Point center. He ran it back twenty-five yards and when the ball finally came to rest on the muddy field with half a dozen Middies piled atop of Mac, it reposed just back of the Navy goal-line. Gray dominated throughout the day, physically as well as sentimentally. If ever there was a sodden, cheerless, disheartening afternoon for the battle of the two arms of the service, yesterday was the one. Luck is with the boys, usually. The golden sunshine usually glints off the gold of braid and buttons. The nicest looking girls that ever assembled within the confines of any particular area of space turn out and smile and put lofty notes into the atmosphere with their giddy gowns and hats. There's snap and verve and pepperino in the very air. But for the first time in a long while the weather forbade all this sort of thing yesterday. From early morning a fog-blanket, wafted in from the Atlantic, hung over the town. Now and then it rained. And when you thought maybe it would clear off it rained again. The good old golosh was brought out of the spare bedroom closet and placed upon even the fairest of feet. The old brown raincoat was dragged forth into the light of day and placed above the gayest of garments. No girl was so foolish as to take a chance on the ruin of her apparel by doing without a moisture shedder of some sort. And not a general or admiral or member of a governor's staff or other person holding the right to wear a uniform was so intensely proud as to expose his ornamentation uncovered and take a risk at pneumonia. It was, as a matter of fact, a pretty drab-looking crowd that began to file into the Polo grounds a little after noon. You can't get much local color out of a gum shoe and a mackintosh.... =The Game Play by Play= It was 2.15 when the navy squad ploughed through the mud to the center of the gridiron. The Navy stands upheaved and the midshipmen sent their battle cry ringing across the field. Almost on the heels of the Navy squad came the Army players and a great shout went up from the Army stands. Each team ran through signals for a few minutes and then the Navy won the toss and chose the east goal. Coffin put the ball into play at 2:20 when he kicked off to the Navy. Craig caught the ball on his 25-yard line and ran it back ten yards before he was hurled into the mud. Davis tore off seven yards through the right side of the Army line and Westphal skirted the Army's left end for ten yards and a first down. Here the Army forwards held and crushed the Navy back a yard. On the next down the midshipmen punted, but gained only five yards. Oliphant tried an end run from a kick formation, but failed to gain, and the Army punted, Coffin driving the ball to the Navy's 43-yard line. Westphal fought a path for five yards, but then the Army defense held, and Von Heimberg kicked to Gerhardt on the Army's 10-yard line. The cadet quarterback flashed back thirty yards before he was driven out of bounds and brought to earth. A stab at the line failed to gain for the cadets and Coffin punted to Craig. The ball sailed far down the field and the Navy quarterback had to run back a few yards to get under it. But he did not get back quite far enough. As the ball dropped he saw he had misjudged it and threw his arms up to grasp the pigskin. His fingers clutched at it, slipped off, and the ball dropped to the gridiron as the Army forwards swooped down the field. Capt. Weyand was in the lead and his greedy fingers snatched the ball before Craig could get his bearings. It was the Army's ball and only eight yards from a touchdown. The midshipmen chorused to the Navy line to hold. And the line did its best, but its best was not good enough to throw back the Army's battering attack. Oliphant jammed his way two yards and on the next play drove through the desperately fighting Navy line within a few feet of the goal line. Here the Navy showed a flash of power that sent the midshipmen to frenzied shouting. Oliphant on his third smash into the line was hurled back for a yard loss. The next try made the fourth down and with the cadet band blaring and the cadets shouting themselves hoarse Oliphant made his fourth drive against the Navy forwards. It was a lunge that carried the concentrated power of the Army eleven yards behind it and it spelled a touchdown for the cadets. Oliphant with several Navy players clutching him stormed well over the line for the first score of the game. He promptly kicked the goal from touchdown and the scoreboard read: Army 7, Navy 0. This was the signal for the Army to break into the song, "Good Night, Navy." They were still singing when Coffin kicked off for the Army....[28]
[28] Joseph J. O'Neil in the _New York World_, November 28, 1915.
This story may be examined critically--and imitated--for its excellence in centering the reader's interest upon the football hero, Oliphant,--a stroke which gives the article almost a short story unity of impression.
The writer's shift from the game and the crowd to Oliphant is somewhat rough--note, for instance, "We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else, but NO,"--but otherwise the story is good.
=239. Getting Players' Names.=--When reporting a football game, one can best follow and take notes on the plays by knowing the players by number. In big games this is made easy by the numerals on the football men's backs. On the smaller elevens this is not done, a difficulty which the reporter can overcome, however, by numbering the positions according to the regulation lineup. Thus:
5.LE RE.11 2.LHB 6.LT RT.10 RHB.3 7.LG RG. 9 1.FB 4.QB 8. C C. 8 QB.4 FB.1 9.RG LG. 7 3.RHB 10.RT LT. 6 LHB.2 11.RE LE. 5
Then in taking running notes during the game, one has to write only, "4 around 5 10 yds.," "2 through 7-8 to 20-yd. line," etc., filling in the names of the players after each half.
=240. Basket-ball.=--The accepted method of reporting a basket-ball game is much like that of football. Because in basket-ball the scores run high and the relative standings of the opposing teams are constantly shifting, it is customary in detailed accounts to give the exact score of each team at the end of every quarter. The following is a terse story of a game:
=BOYS' HIGH WINS CITY TITLE= The Boys' High School captured the city basketball championship of the Public Schools Athletic League by defeating the Bushwick High School on the former's court yesterday by a score of 18 to 17. It was the second defeat sustained by Bushwick, the other reverse being administered by Eastern District, which, however, was downed by Boys' High. The ending was a sad one for the Bushwick team. The Bushwick team showed good sportsmanship by failing to enter a protest when it was alleged that the final whistle was blown ten seconds too soon. The matter was put before Mr. Aldinger, the referee, who decided the game officially ended. Boys' High came through with a strong finish. At the opening of the game it scored four points before Bushwick finally entered the scoring column. The game was bitterly fought until the end of the first half, which found Boys' High holding an average of 6 to 4. In the second half Bushwick launched an attack that soon placed it in front by a score of 15 to 9. Boys' High then carried the fight into the enemy territory, and, with successive field goals by Bolotovsky, Gindee and Bonoff, the score was tied at 15-all. The score then seesawed until Bolotovsky shot the winning point with a free goal from the foul line. The line-up follows: BOYS' HIGH BUSHWICK Fd.g Fl.g. P. Fd.g Fl.g. P. Bolotovsky, rf 4 4 12 Robinson, rf 2 0 4 Gindee, lf 1 0 2 Edelstein, lf 2 3 7 Bonoff, c 2 0 4 Cherry, c 3 0 6 Brown, rg 0 0 0 Dorff, rg 0 0 0 Ratner, lg 0 0 0 Billig, lg 0 0 0 ---------- ---------- Totals 7 4 18 Totals 7 3 17 Referee--Aldinger, H. S. of Commerce. Time of halves, 15 minutes each.[29]
[29] _New York Tribune_, March 4, 1917.
In reporting a basket-ball game it is difficult to record the plays accurately unless one knows the contestants or they are numbered. The men shift their positions too quickly and constantly. To be accurate, the reporter should have a seat next to the scorer or else between two students or friends of the opposing players, so that whichever side makes a basket or an error, the reporter can get the player's name instantly.
=241. Track.=--Reporting a track meet is easier than baseball, football, or basket-ball since the events are run off slowly and all the results are announced to the grandstand. The following story of the 1917 meet of the Intercollegiate Association of America at Philadelphia is a good illustration:
=RECORDS MADE AT INDOOR MEET= Cornell and Yale, as usual, shared the top honors at the third annual indoor track and field meet of the Intercollegiate Association of America, held last night before a crowd of 6,000 persons at the Commercial Museum in this city. The feature event of the early part of the program was a three-lap relay race between the Ithacans, Pennsylvania and State College. Crim, who ran anchor for Cornell over the last 538 yards, beat Scudder, of Penn, by an inch, the Quaker falling under the tape exhausted. In this event Cornell hung up a new record for the collegiate indoor meets by covering the three laps in four minutes, twenty seconds, two seconds better than last year, when Penn won. In the six-lap relay race, where each of the men ran 1056 yards, Yale romped home an easy winner, John Overton beating Marion Shields, of Penn State, with yards to spare. Pennsylvania, the third team entered, finished in that position. Yale sent an army of star timber-toppers down for the fifty-yard high hurdle event. John V. Farwell, captain of the Eli's track team, equaled the American amateur indoor record by covering the distance in seven seconds. Richards, of Cornell, won individual honors in the sixteen-pound shot-put with a throw of 42 feet, 8-3/10 inches, while Cornell's team average was 40 feet, 2-3/10 inches. The Cornell entries in the late events swept everything before them. Coach Jack Moakley's long-distance runners won the twelve-lap relay in the fast time of 22 minutes, 7-2/5 seconds, beating last year's record of 23 minutes, 13-4/5 seconds. The Ithacans also cleaned up in the running broad jump with a team average of 20 feet, 9 and 1/16 inches. Culbertson carried off the individual honors with a leap of 21 feet, 3 and 3/4 inches. The graduate relay race proved the most interesting event on the card. When the anchor men of Penn, Dartmouth, and Cornell started on the last four laps Riley, of Dartmouth, was leading "Ted" Meredith by fifteen yards, with Caldwell, the former Ithacan, trailing five yards in the rear of Meredith. Penn's former captain brought the crowd to its feet by overtaking Riley in the last ten yards. No time was taken. Summaries: Three-lap relay race--Won by Cornell (Shelton, Windnagle, Acheson, Crim); second, Penn (Lennon, Walker, Dorsey, Scudder); third, Penn State (Whiting, Krall, Enoch, Cottom). Time, 4 min., 20 sec. (New indoor collegiate record). 50-yard hurdles--Won by Yale (Rodman, Davis, Offutt and Farwell), 14 points; second, Cornell (J. M. Watt, Cleminshaw, Pratt and Elsas), 10 points; third, Princeton (Crawford, H. R. Watt, Erdman, and Buzby), 6 points. Six-lap relay--Won by Yale (Rolfe, Ireland, Cooper and Overton); second, Penn State (Shea, Foster, Whiting and Shields); third, Pennsylvania (Norriss, Price, Scudder and Humphreys). Time, 9 min., 59-4/5 sec. 16-pound shot-put--Won by Cornell (Richards, 42 ft. 8-3/10 in.; Gillies, 39 ft. 11-1/2 in.; Howell, 41 ft. 5 in.; Schoof, 36 ft. 10-7/8 in.), team average, 40 ft. 2-3/10 in.; second, Princeton (Sinclaire, 44 ft. 9-1/2 in.; Cleveland 41 ft. 1-3/8 in.; Nourse, 34 ft. 8 in.; Ginnert 35 ft. 1-1/4 in.), team average, 38 ft. 6-8/10 in.; third, Penn (Wray, 30 ft. 10-1/4 in.; Paul, 32 ft. 3-3/4 in.; Royer, 31 ft. 5-5/8 in.; Swann, 32 ft. 2-3/4 in.), team average, 31 ft. 6-5/10 in. Running broad jump--Won by Cornell (Culbertson, 21 ft. 3-3/4 in.; Richards, 21 ft. 1/2 in.; Shackelton, 20 ft. 10-1/2 in.; Harrison, 19 ft. 9-1/2 in.), team average, 20 ft. 9-1/16 in.; second, Pennsylvania (Jones, 20 ft. 10-3/4 in.; Bertolet, 20 ft. 7 in.; Buckholtz, 20 ft. 1/2 in.; Walter 19 ft. 9 in.), team average, 20 ft. 3-13/16 in. No third team.[30]
[30] _Philadelphia Public Ledger_, March 4, 1917.
=242. Golf.=--In reporting golf matches probably the best method is to lead with rather a full summary--a half-dozen paragraphs if necessary--telling the results, the character of the playing, the kind of weather, the condition of the links, and something about the competitors, then to follow with a detailed story of the game hole by hole. In the following story note that the length, the par, and the relative standing of the players is given on each hole. Note too that a numerical summary is made every nine holes.
=EVANS WINS GREAT MATCH= Charles Evans, Jr., of the Edgewater Golf Club, twice winner of the Western amateur golf championship, to-day defeated Ned Sawyer of the Wheaton Golf Club 2 and 1 in the semi-final match for the great All-Western title. To-morrow Evans will meet in the 36-hole finals James Standish, Jr., of the Detroit Golf Club, whom he defeated for the same title last year at the Kent Country Club. Standish won his way into the finals by defeating H. P. Bingham, of the Mayfield Club, to-day in a lop-sided contest, the match ending on the thirtieth green, 7 and 6. The Evans-Sawyer duel to-day was a grueling struggle and from all points one of the greatest in the history of the Western classic. It sparkled like carbonated water as compared with the rather flat matches of yesterday. Fought in balmy weather under almost perfect conditions, the contest afforded, from start to finish, plenty of thrills to the gallery of 2,000 followers. Old timers conceded it the best match ever fought on Ohio soil. Each player had 74 in the morning, while Evans had approximately 72 in the afternoon. Fourteen of the thirty-five holes were won under par figures, ten were won at par, and two were ties under par, leaving only two holes at which both players were really ragged. Sawyer shot remarkably fine golf in the out round of the morning and at the tenth hole was 4 up, but from this point Evans began to whittle down the lead. Although Chick got on even terms four times, it was not until the sixteenth hole in the afternoon that he led, and the next hole saw him winner. The score by holes follows: =Scores by Holes= =Hole 1 (385 yds., par 4).= Sawyer pulled his drive into a trap from which he dug only to drop into another at the left of the green. His chip shot hit the bank and he was just on the green in 4. Evans was 60 feet from the pin on his second, but his weak approach putt gave him a 5. Sawyer took three putts and counted a 7 for the first hole. Evans 1 up. =Hole 2 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans pulled his tee shot, but got a fair lie. His approach pitch was short. Sawyer got 250 yards on his drive, pitched eight feet short, and holed an uphill putt for a win, 3-4. All square. =Hole 3 (445 yds., par 5).= Two wonderful wooden shots landed Sawyer eight feet from the pin, where he missed his putt for a 3 and kicked the ball in for a 4, one under par. Evans pulled his drive to the rough from which he made a woeful pull with his cleek to the weeds guarding the right of the fairway. He was 20 yards short of the green on his third and lost, 5-4. Sawyer 1 up. =Hole 4 (170 yds., par 3).= This hole was halved in 3, the features being Sawyer's 30-foot, downhill putt and Chick's miss of a two-foot putt. Sawyer 1 up. =Hole 5 (325 yds., par 4).= Evans was wild again from the tee, his drive being sliced to the brook where he got a lie on the slaty bottom. He banged out a high shot with his niblick, but went over the green to the rough and was short on his return. Sawyer was fifteen feet from the hole on his second and won, 4-5. Sawyer 2 up. =Hole 6 (515 yds., par 5).= From the high sixth tee Evans pulled a low drive to the trees. He made a great out with his mashie, being lucky in escaping the trees. Sawyer lined out two of his regulation wooden shots and was twelve feet from the flag on his second. Evans heeled his long mashie shot to the right of the green, from which he missed his four and conceded the hole, Sawyer being dead in 3. Sawyer 3 up. =Hole 7 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans left his unruly driver in the bag and played a cleek shot for the seventh hole, Sawyer outdriving him forty yards. Chick's pitch took a bad bound, but stopped eight feet from the hole. Sawyer's pitch ran entirely across the green. Evans's putt just trickled into the cup, winning for him, 3-4. Sawyer 2 up. =Hole 8 (145 yds., par 3).= Both pitched to the green. Sawyer putted dead and laid Evans a dead stymie. In attempting the five-foot slanting putt, Chick knocked Sawyer's ball into the hole, losing 2-4. Sawyer 3 up. =Hole 9 (435 yds., par 5).= Both got straight drives into a driving wind at the long ninth. Two perfectly played iron shots met with unmerited punishment, both balls touching the top of the hill and running over the fast green into a trap. Both missed rainbow putts for fours and halved in 5. Sawyer 3 up at the turn. Cards: Evans 5 4 5 3 5 5 3 4 5--39 Sawyer 7 3 4 3 4 4 4 2 5--36
=243. Tennis.=--In reporting tennis matches one may use the following as an acceptable guide. The summary by sets at the end of the story in all probability was obtained from the scorer.
=JOHNSTON WINS CHAMPIONSHIP= William M. Johnston inscribed his name upon the classic national tennis singles championship most impressively yesterday, using a forehand stroke that left no dispute as to his right to the title. The young player, who two seasons ago was hailed as the successor to Maurice E. McLoughlin, made good the prediction by the score of 1-6, 6-0, 7-5, 10-8, while thousands cheered the vanquished McLoughlin and the new holder of the highest honors of the American courts. It was a memorable battle and an inspiring scene at the climax on the field of the West Side Tennis Club, at Forest Hills, L.I., when the two men fighting for a sporting honor, and fighting with all that was in them, almost collapsed at the end, and hoisted on the shoulders of their comrades, with the cheers of the 7,000 spectators ringing in their ears, were carried from the field. While the homage paid to Johnston for winning one of the greatest matches the All Comers' tournament has ever known in its thirty-five years was sincere and true, still on all sides there was regret that McLoughlin, the hero who overwhelmed Norman E. Brooks and the late Anthony F. Wilding in the great Davis Cup matches last year, would not have the permanent possession of the All Comers' Cup on which his name is twice inscribed. It was not the same McLoughlin who stood in the court yesterday that overwhelmed the famous Australasians a year ago. Time had taken something from his game, and as ever youth must be served. In this instance it fairly leaped to its reward. Except for the first set and the briefest of intervals thereafter, Johnston was always the master of his mighty adversary. He knew the game of his opponent, and as in the ancient days when Greek met Greek, it was the dynamic power, resourcefulness, and stroke of Californian against Californian, with no quarter asked or given. Two months before the two had played for the Exposition championship at San Francisco, and at that time McLoughlin had carried the match and title after five of the hardest sets which the tournament produced. Then "The Comet" was on his old field of asphalt with the ball bounding so high that he could bring off his overhanders and where such a thing as ground strokes were unknown. Probably never in all the years of the historic All Comers has a player displayed such phenomenal command of the ball with a forehand stroke. There were many competent judges present yesterday who declared that its equal was not to be found on the courts anywhere.... It was a stroke that stood the test, for no less than eight times in the fourth set was Johnston within a point of claiming the All Comers as his own when McLoughlin made thrilling stands as of old, and pushed the victory on a little further. When he moved up to the net in the ever-flashing rallies all the power and certainty of Johnston's forehand came into action. Alert, with the eye of an eagle that saw every move and the flight of the ball as McLoughlin drove it at him with all his might, the younger player whipped the returns into the corners. He was like a cat on his feet, quick and sure, never making a false move. There were times when he nipped the best drives that the Comet sent over, and turned them back for passes. Repeatedly McLoughlin overhanded the ball for what to him seemed a certain ace, so that he relaxed and dropped his racquet to rest, as if the point were finished. Johnston made his recovery, however, and sending the ball back found McLoughlin off his guard and so scored the point. The cross volleys into the corners, the spots that had proved so profitable against Williams on the previous day, were the chief bit of manoeuvring that electrified the crowd. As Johnston played it, it was as irresistible as trying to check the march of time. He sent the ball into the left-hand corner of McLoughlin's court like a bolt of chain lightning. In order to play the ball with any success McLoughlin usually danced around it for a forehand shot, which put him wide of the court. Calmly stepping in to meet it, Johnston crossed with ever-increasing pace into the opposite corner. It was run, run, run for McLoughlin if he wanted the ball. He was on the defensive, and it was a position, as in all of his matches, in which he does not scintillate. So relentlessly was the younger player forcing the former champion and veteran that, even when he had glowing opportunities to make the point, McLoughlin put his racquet to the ball too soon, and so piled up a total of 42 nets and 38 outs, as compared to 37 nets and 26 outs for his rival. That was chiefly where the difference stood, for on actual earned points by placement Johnston only had a tally of 53 to 51 for the Comet.... =First Set= Points Games Johnston 2 0 3 0 5 4 2--16 1 McLoughlin 4 4 5 4 3 6 4--30 6 Double Aces Places Nets Outs Faults Johnston 6 8 11 12 6 McLoughlin 9 10 9 7 1 =Second Set= Points Games Johnston 4 4 5 4 6 4--27 6 McLoughlin 2 2 3 0 4 0--11 0 Double Aces Places Nets Outs Faults Johnston 3 8 3 4 0 McLoughlin[31] 3 2 5 6 1
[31] _New York Times_, September 8, 1915.
=244. Boxing Matches.=--News stories of boxing matches are but a combination of the methods of writing football games and golf matches.
The first part of the story of a boxing contest should be a full general account of the fight, the fighters, the character of the boxing, the weight, height, and reach of the pugilists, their methods of attack and defense, the crowd, total and individual receipts, the exact time of the beginning and end of the fight, etc. The second part, like the golf report, should be a detailed running story of the fight by rounds. The following story of the Willard-Moran match at New York in 1915 may be examined as an example:
=WILLARD WINS ON POINTS= Jess Willard, the heavyweight champion pugilist of the world, hammered and pounded Frank Moran of Pittsburgh for ten rounds in crowded Madison Square Garden last night, but with his advantage of fifty pounds in weight, six inches in height, and six inches in reach, the Herculean Kansan could not knock out the courageous Pittsburgh boxer. Willard had every advantage throughout the bout except one flash in the seventh round, when Moran, with teeth set and the fire of anger in his eye, made a wonderful rally and showered Willard's jaw with hard blows just before the bell sounded. The champion hit Moran hard enough and often enough to knock out half a dozen men, and after the bout he said that the only reason he was forced to let up and not use his famous righthand punch was because he broke his right hand in the second round and was afraid to hit hard after that. It was in whipping a vicious uppercut for the chin that Willard smashed the hand against Moran's elbow. At the time, Moran was groggy, and although the seconds in the champion's corner yelled for him to tear in, Willard had to stand back. When the champion's glove was removed after the bout, the hand was badly swollen, and he was rushed away from the Garden to be attended by a surgeon. The crowd that witnessed the bout was the largest ever seen at a glove contest here. The Garden from the floor to the upper gallery was jammed until there was hardly room to stand. Although women spectators were encouraged to see the bout, few responded, not more than 200 being seen in the arena boxes. Well-known men in all walks of New York life, however, were grouped about in evening clothes, and gave the boxing match as much tone as a night at the opera. A few of the women spectators wore evening clothes, but the greater part of them were clad in the smart new spring suits which fill all the city's finery shops. Financially the bout was a huge success and a tribute to the enterprise of the Western promoter, Tex Rickard. The receipts amounted to $150,000. Of this Willard got $52,600, including $5,100 for his share of the motion pictures. Moran got $23,500 for his share. It was an enormous remuneration for both men for their forty minutes in the ring. This first appearance of the new champion in the ring since his defeat of Johnson in Havana a year ago had set the town talking, and prominent men in New York and other cities did not hesitate to pay $25 a seat to see the bout. As Willard was such an over-ruling favorite the betting was perhaps the lightest ever known in a bout in which a champion has taken part.... It was 9:40 o'clock when Willard hopped into the ring and got a big cheer. He was soon followed by Moran, who had even a greater reception. While the two contestants were waiting nervously in their corners the announcer, Joe Humphries, had the proudest moment of his career when he gathered the great figures of the fistic world into the same ring. Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, Kid McCoy, and John L. Sullivan all stood together and shook hands. The reception to John L. must have made the white-haired old man's heart warm, for the old timers in the crowd who remembered when he could beat anything in the ring cheered him until they were hoarse. In the champion's corner were Tom Jones, Walter Monahan, and Jack Hemple. In Moran's corner were Willie Lewis, Bill McKinnon, and Frank Kendall. Willard's weight was a big surprise. When he stripped off his green bathrobe the champion weighed 259 pounds, which was ten pounds more than his handlers said he weighed and twenty pounds more than when he defeated Johnson in Cuba. It was just 9:55 when "Old Eagle Eye" Charley White called the men to the center of the ring and said, "Be good, boys, and break when I tell you." ... =THE FIGHT BY ROUNDS= =First Round= The men met in the center of the ring. Willard blocked Moran's left to the head and they clinched. Willard missed a right and left that slid off Moran's shoulder. Willard landed lightly with the left to Moran's face and followed with two more. A left jab was all that Willard used in the first few moments. Then Moran landed a left to Willard's chest, and rushing in close tried to get to his jaw with two blows, but failed. Moran was wary and covered up as he came in on Willard. He also missed a left swing that was wild by several inches. Willard sent a left to Moran's head that jarred the challenger, and he tried to come back with blows to Willard's head, but failed. Moran could not reach the jaw of the champion. Willard missed a right lead, Moran stepping in close and evading the blow. One blow that Willard landed clean, a left to the head, made Moran wary. Moran could not get any blows to Willard's face. =Second Round= Willard met Moran three-quarters of the way over the ring and they clinched. Moran landed a left to Willard's head after they broke and then they milled in the center of the ring, neither doing any particular damage. They were chary of doing work for the next several seconds, Willard waiting to have Moran lead. Willard pushed aside Moran's guard and led with a left to the head which was blocked. Willard forced Moran around the ring and battered him on the head with rights and lefts. The challenger was almost pushed through the ropes. Moran missed a left lead that was blocked by Willard. Moran feinted and made a wild hay-making swing that missed. He then struck one blow to Willard's chest that had little force behind it. Moran led with his left and reached Willard's stomach, but the champion did not mind the blow seriously. Two right swings by Moran pounded on Willard's shoulders and the champion retaliated with a light left jab to the face. Both were perspiring from the intense heat of the big arc lights. Willard seemed to toy with Moran in this round, not exerting himself to take the aggressive....[32]
[32] _New York Times_, March 26, 1916.
=245. The Unwholesome in Boxing Matches.=--One caution should be given in writing about boxing contests,--the need of presenting the wholesome rather than the unwholesome side. A report of a bout may be written in such a way as to appeal to the barbaric nature of one's readers, to make them revel in the mere drawing of blood rather than in the skill, the dexterity, the generalship of the contestants. The difference is in the reporter's point of view and depends not so much upon accuracy of presentation as upon his purpose to choose those wholesome details that have been successful in retaining pugilism as an American sport despite its many undoubted accompanying evils. In the following extract, for instance, the appeal is unhealthful; it savors rather of the Spanish bull-ring than of a legal sport in the United States:
What a fight it was! One worthy of Mars himself! The stage setting was complete to the minutest detail. There had been quite enough smashed noses in the preliminaries to whet the appetite for action to its keenest edge. And the main event was put on so quickly after the semi-final that this lust for battle had no chance to cool. Moran led with a snappy left hook that drew blood from Coffey's nose. With this first faint scarlet trickle the gallery gods went wild. A second quick jab gashed an old scar above Jim's left cheekbone and covered his face with blood, to the delight of Frank's friends in the center box.
=246. Automobile Races.=--Stories of automobile races follow closely the types of sporting news stories already examined. The following may be taken as an illustration:
=NEW WORLD'S RECORD BY RESTA= +-------------------------------+ =The Results= Driver Time Average Resta 58:54 102.85 Cooper 59:39 101.41 Burman 61:22 98.63 Oldfield Flagged +-------------------------------+ Speedway Park, Aug. 7.--(Special).--The world's 100-mile speed championship was won by a hood this afternoon--the hood of Dario Resta's wonderful Peugeot. Cheers from 15,000 throats drowned the roar of the engines as the Resta Peugeot and Earl Cooper's Stutz wound up a race unparalleled for thrills and dashed side by side up the home stretch and over the finish line. Resta won $20,000. Resta smashed Porporato's record of 99.05 miles an hour on the Chicago speedway by driving the 100 miles at an average speed of 102.85 miles an hour. Through the whole hundred miles, most of which were reeled off at the record breaking clip of 104.6 miles an hour, the two leaders were seldom separated by more than a car length. Tire trouble early in the race put Oldfield in his Delage and Burman in his Peugeot out of running. They trailed along in a tremendous effort to overcome the handicap, but trailers they remained. Once, on the thirty-sixth lap, it seemed that Resta had lost. A tire went bad and he was forced to stop. But in just 26 seconds he was on his way again. By that time Cooper had flitted far in the lead--so far that had he not suffered a similar mishap himself a few laps later, the game Italian never could have overtaken him. Resta was again in the lead when Cooper's bad tire was replaced. The cars lined up for the trial lap at 3:30, Oldfield starting first. A roar of cheers from the grandstand greeted Earl Cooper in his white Stutz as he started on the initial parade around the track. Fred J. Wagner, the man with the red flag, stood astride the tape and started the cars on their flying race at 3:44 P.M. =The Race by Laps= =First Lap.=--Resta led in the first lap, Cooper second, Burman third, with Oldfield trailing. =Second Lap.=--On the second lap Resta stretched his lead, Cooper closed up on him, only a car's length behind; Burman came third, with Oldfield fourth, a wide interval separating Burman and Oldfield from the leading contestants. =Third Lap.=--Resta was leading, with Cooper close behind, and Burman third. Oldfield brought up the rear.[33]...
[33] _Milwaukee Journal_, August 8, 1915.
=247. Billiards.=--In billiard matches the chief thing to note, in addition to points already mentioned in other sporting news stories, is the scoring of the individual runs. If it is necessary to write up the individual innings, the same style is used as indicated in golf and racing stories.
=HOPPE OUTPLAYS YAMADA= Boston, Oct. 21.--Willie Hoppe, the champion, led Koji Yamada, his Japanese challenger, 1,000 to 743 points at the close of their second night's play for the 14.1 balkline billiard championship at Convention Hall this evening. Yamada's total to-night was 396. As was the case last night, both men played carefully, which accounted for the long time necessary to finish the game. Hoppe's high run was 104, and came late in the contest, his average being 19 6-26. Yamada's best run was 82, and as it came soon after a run of 75, it enabled him to take the lead from the American for the first time in the match. His average was 13 22-25. Yamada in the first half of the game gave a pleasing display in which for the first time he showed brilliancy at the masse. Hoppe was not up to form during the early innings and got his points only by hard struggle. Both players had a good deal of open table shooting to do. The score: Hoppe--49, 30, 2, 31, 3, 0, 22, 5, 23, 24, 4, 0, 8, 0, 17, 7, 55, 0, 44, 11, 104, 31, 0, 24, 5, 7--500. Average, 19 6-26. Yamada--9, 2, 1, 45, 30, 0, 75, 0, 45, 4, 2, 82, 0, 1, 31, 1, 0, 0, 9, 2, 3, 0, 1, 7, 3--347. Average, 13 22-25.[34]
[34] _Atlanta Constitution_, October 22, 1915.
=248. Obtaining Information.=--In reporting games and contests one will have little difficulty in obtaining all needed information. Tickets are provided gratis and admit always to the best seats, known as the press seats, or the press-box, where all the newspaper men are grouped together. If the contest is an outdoor meet, the press-box is usually on the top of the bleachers. Here are installed telegraph and telephone wires, the papers often having private wires from their offices to the field. If the wires have not been installed and it is necessary to report between quarters or halves, or inning by inning, one should have the local telegraph company provide at least two messengers to take the bulletins as fast as one writes them. And one's notes should be so taken that the bulletins may be given the messengers within a few seconds after it is possible to report.
=249. Personal Opinion in Sporting Stories.=--On page 165 mention was made of four kinds of sporting news stories, and the reader's attention was called to the fact that three of the four--those dealing with athletic events before their occurrence, those dealing with the same events afterward, and those relating to sports in general--vary somewhat from the normal type of newspaper story. This variance lies in the fact that the three are hybrids, partaking of the nature of both the pure news story and the editorial. In an earlier chapter we have seen that the purpose of the news story is to present news; of the editorial, to interpret. We have seen that the avowed purpose of the editorial is to influence opinion. And so with these three types. They may be either presenters or interpreters of sporting news, or both. In the following story the writer is bent on telling the lineup of the Michigan team for the game against Cornell, the condition of the men, etc., but he is also bent on proving to his readers that Michigan has a chance to win,--which makes his story half editorial and half news.
=MICHIGAN HAS A CHANCE= Ann Arbor, Mich., Nov. 5.--(Special).--We might lead this story with something original and say that both teams were awaiting the whistle. Instead, we will be unique and assert that Michigan has a chance to win. A victory over Cornell would make a success of a season that has a good start toward being a failure. Michigan's chance for victory depends on its line. There is grave doubt in the minds of some that Michigan has a line. Yost believes it has, because he has seen his center, his two guards, and his two tackles charge and block in practice. He hasn't seen them do anything in games but look sick. But he knows they can do something else and he is wondering if to-morrow will be the day when they prove it to the public and to Cornell. If the Michigan line should play tomorrow as it played against the Aggies and against Syracuse, the best back field in the land would be null and void. But if the Michigan line comes to life, performs as it has done when Assistant Coaches Schultz, Almendinger and Raynsford were scrimmaging against it and using all the words they knew as lashes to drive it to action, then Cornell will find itself up against the toughest foe it has faced this year. Yost admits he has a good back field. His combination of one senior, one junior and one sophomore--Catlett, Maulbetsch and Smith--would, he believes, gain acres of ground against any team in the country if the line would give them half a chance. Smith, to be sure, is in bad shape. He is going to start the game, but few expect him to last through. Bay City gave him to Michigan, and before he was hurt he showed enough to convince his coach that he has the makings of another Galt. He is of the versatile type, and besides being a good ground gainer himself, he is of great assistance as an interferer and a handy man on defense. He backs up the line when the other side has the ball. At present almost everything ails him, save possibly barber's itch and the h. and m. disease that helped make Niles famous. Maulbetsch, Yost says, is a better defensive man than last year. As for his plunging prowess, he is probably just as classy as ever, but a man can't plunge very far when two or three opposing linemen are sitting on him, as they were in the M. A. C. and Syracuse games. Catlett is a streak of speed, and since this is his third year of varsity football, he is playing more intelligently than ever. Roehm, the quarterback, was one of Hughitt's understudies last season. He is light, but fast and willing. Thus in the back field we have a good all round man, a wonderful line plunger, a speed demon, and an agile, hard worker. All of which assets won't be worth a yesterday's transfer unless the line holds....[35]
[35] Ring W. Lardner in the _Chicago Tribune_, November 6, 1915.
=250. Advance Stories.=--The details which one may include in advance stories of athletic meets are innumerable. Some of the more important particulars, however, are predictions of the outcome, the effect of the contest on future events or on the rank of the teams, names of the players and the officials, absence of important men, opinions of the men, their trainers, or their followers, weak spots in their play, local or national interest, time and place of the contest, ways of reaching the field or grounds,--in fact, any details that will interest one's readers in the approaching game. Such preliminary writeups require good reporters--men who can observe closely and analyze carefully, and hence can give their readers reasonable predictions of the success of the teams in which they are interested. The following may be taken as a typical preliminary story:
=PROMINENT OFFICIALS AT GAME TO-DAY= +-------------------------------------------+ =Facts About To-day's Football Game= =Teams=--Army and Navy. =Place=--Polo Grounds. =Time=--2 P.M. =Corps of Cadets and Brigade of Midshipmen march on the field=--1 to 1.30 P.M. =Weather Forecast=--Fair and warm; rain late in the afternoon or night. =Routes to the Grounds=--Eighth and Ninth Avenue "L" and Broadway subway. =Directions for Finding Seats=--On the back of each ticket are printed directions for locating the seats in the various sections. +-------------------------------------------+ When the referee's whistle sends the Army and Navy teams charging into each other this afternoon at the Polo Grounds, most of the United States government officials, army, navy and marine corps officers will be gathered in the seats and boxes around the sidelines to cheer 1915's football season on to its death in the spectacularly most brilliant game of the year. President Wilson, doomed again to neutrality, will divide his time between the Army and Navy sides of the field. Mrs. Galt will arrive with him shortly before 1 o'clock on the train which brings besides them one of the largest and most distinguished delegations of government officials, army and navy officers, who ever saw an Army-Navy game. Secretary Garrison will be whooping it up for the Army on the cadets' side of the field. Secretary Daniels, reinforced by his twenty-one-year-old son, will be right there where the Blue and Gold of the Navy waves, and take it from the Navy this Secretary is some rooter when he gets going. Secretary McAdoo will be there--but why attempt to name all or many of the prominent folk. Cabinet officers, admirals and generals, all take a back seat to-day. In the full glare of the limelight stand the twenty-two gridiron fighters from West Point and Annapolis. To-day there is only one firing line; it's the chalk-marked field at the Polo Grounds. The Midshipmen arrived here Thursday and went to the Vanderbilt yesterday. The Army team, coaches, trainers, and advance delegation of officers arrived, making the Hotel Astor their headquarters. Every train from Washington, from Annapolis, from West Point, which pulled into New York thereafter was packed with Army and Navy adherents. And Broadway was ready with its usual welcome. The Vanderbilt, Astor, Waldorf, McAlpin, and Martinique were profusely decorated with the flags and with Army and Navy colors. Generals met cub lieutenants in the cafes and dining-rooms (where seats had been reserved both for last night and to-night weeks in advance), all eager to get some late "dope" on the game. Store fronts were gay with the Navy Blue and Gold and the Army Black and Gold and Gray; street hawkers were disposing of the winning colors. New York was on its biannual football spree last night. The Army and Navy were in town.... Betting? Well, as a Navy man put it, "We've got a few iron men with us." Yes, they all came "heeled." Navy men are asking 2 to 1 and getting it in spots. But as the hours slipped by and the old Army-Navy feeling grew, there was no telling the odds--each man bet as the impulse of the moment prompted him, anywhere from 3 to 1 to even money. Probable Line-up To-day Army Wgt. Navy Wgt. Neyland 170 L.E. Von H'mb'g 180 Jones 200 L.T. Ward 177 O'hare 192 L.G. Kercher 185 McEwan 192 C. Goodstein 172 Meacham 176 R.G. Smith 199 Weyand 197 R.T. Gilman 187 Redfield 163 R.E. Johnson 169 Gerhardt 145 Q.B. Craig 147 Ford 171 L.H. Westphal 184 Oliphant 163 R.H. Davis 153 Coffin 162 F.B. Martin 161 T'l weight 1931 lbs. T'l weight 1914 lbs. Avg. wgt., 175.6 lbs. Avg. wgt., 174 lbs. Referee, W. S. Langford, Trinity; umpire, F. W. Murphy, Brown; field judge, J. A. Evans, Williams; head linesman, Carl Marshall, Harvard.[36]
[36] _New York World_, November 27, 1916.
=251. Review Stories.=--Stories written days after a game are generally of an analytical nature, their purpose being to review the play or contest and explain why one team or contestant was successful and the other a failure, or why one method of play, attack, or defense proved better than others. Sometimes, however, such stories are merely individual incidents learned late, but of interest nevertheless to the readers. An analytical story is the following:
=NEW RULES UPSET TEAMS= With the advent of October, the month which generally ushers in the football seasons, the defeat of Yale by Virginia was one of the most conspicuous cases of the old adage that history will repeat itself in football as well as in any other line of athletic endeavor. In former years supposedly stronger elevens have met with unexpected setbacks from teams which were thought to be only tools in the helpful development of the big elevens for the harder and more important contests to be played later in the season. In the old days of the five-yard rule and mass play, schedules could be outlined with so much accuracy that a coach or athletic director seldom made mistakes in his schedules. In those days the chart was framed so that each succeeding game would be harder to win.... The teams were sent into the game to test the pet plays of the coaches, such as the revolving mass on tackle, hard concentrated attacks on and off the tackles, with the runner being pushed and pulled by his teammates.... If plays as outlined by the coaches did not make the necessary distances, then the teams practically settled down to a man to man contest, and football history records the number of games which ended either in scoreless ties or knotted counts. Following this old custom, the big teams select the opponents who in the old days were easy to beat in the first games. It is true some changes have been made in schedules, but it is only reasonable to assume that the coach of a large eleven would be foolish to schedule an opening contest with a team which he thought had a chance to beat his own aggregation. Using Yale as an example, the authorities at New Haven would never have scheduled the Virginia game unless they thought in their own minds that Old Eli would trot off the field an easy winner. On the last Saturday in September the Blue eleven had an easy time winning from Maine, 37 to 0. Following the changes in the rules, coaches nowadays cannot afford to take a chance with any team, whether they have a heavy, strong team or a well balanced eleven. The players do not get accustomed to the excitement of actual combat so early in the season, and the least little thing which goes wrong in their offensive or defensive play will unbalance them for the remainder of the contest. Harvard, last year's eastern champion, was compelled to play a lot of football to win from the Massachusetts Aggies by a single touchdown. Had Percy Haughton, the Crimson coach, thought his team would experience such a hard game so early in the season, the contest would not have been listed. The Crimson eleven, in other words, was opposed by a team which had been thoroughly groomed in every department of the game, the Aggies apparently realizing what a victory would mean to them.[37]...
[37] Walter H. Eckersall in the _Chicago Tribune_, October 10, 1915.
=252. General Stories.=--The last type of sporting news story, that relating to a sport only in a general way, may be considered briefly. In this type the actual news value is small. The interest of the story lies rather in its informative worth, the writer's purpose being to present general, but significant, facts that will interest followers of the sport. Usually it is expository. Its nature is well illustrated by the following subjects chosen practically at random: "Batters in the American Association Weaker in 1916 than in 1915"; "Title Holders in the Ring Play Safety First--Refuse Long Battles"; "Tennis Gaining in Popularity"; "Is Baseball a Back Number?"; "Any Man Can Play Par Golf"; "Ty Cobb's Place in Baseball History." Such stories are valuable in the Sunday edition, and in addition to giving general surveys of various sports, help to interest readers when athletic news is scarce. They are the feature stories of sports.
XVII. SOCIETY
=253. What Society News Is.=--The society editor's work concerns itself with the social and personal news of the city and county in which the paper is published or from which it draws its patronage. It is almost entirely local, news of the state or of other cities being of value only in so far as it affects women and men of one's own town through former exchanges of courtesy or hospitality, or for similar causes. Nor does it concern itself with the unconventional, the abnormal. Elopements, clandestine marriages, unusual engagements, freakish parties, and similar extraordinary social and personal news do not come within the sphere of the society editor, but take regular, and usually prominent, places in the news columns.
=254. Difficulty.=--The society editor's work is with the conventional in the local fashionable world, and for this reason probably no other kind of news demands so consistent care, discrimination, and habitual restraint. She--the society editor is practically always a woman--must recognize readily relative social distinctions, to know what names and functions to feature in her column or section, and to be able to present the details of those functions acceptably to the various social groups about which and for which she is writing. The latter requisite in particular is difficult. For in attempting to give appreciative accounts of weddings, dances, receptions, she is liable to overstep the narrow limits of conventional usage and make herself ridiculous by extravagance of statement; or else, in trying to avoid unnecessary display of enthusiasm, she is led into use of trite, colorless words and stock phrases. She must by all means take care not to say that "the handsome groom wearing the conventional black and the lovely bride arrayed in a charming creation of white satin consummated their sacred nuptial vows amid banks of fragrant lilies and beautiful, blushing roses to the melodious strains of Mendelssohn's entrancing wedding march."
=255. Illustrations.=--The following stories of engagements, weddings, dinners, dances, receptions, club meetings, and charity benefits have been selected at random to show the accepted methods of handling society write-ups. At the end are added a few personal items--_personals_, they are generally termed--and a single "society review." The restraint and dignity of tone of the stories are worth close study.
=ENGAGEMENTS= Mr. and Mrs. George A. Stewart, of 311 North Parkside Avenue, announce the engagement of their daughter, Gladys, to Charles M. Sailor, a son of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Sailor, of 25 South Central Boulevard.
The first debutante of the season to become engaged is Miss Bessie Allen, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Osborne Allen, whose engagement to Harry O. Best was announced Saturday. Mr. Best is a son of Mr. and Mrs. George R. Best, of 131 East Fifty-fourth street. He was graduated from Harvard in 1913 and is a member of the Knickerbocker Club of this city, and also of the Balustrol Golf Club. He is a member of the firm of Best and Flom, 136 Walker Street. Mr. Best is the third in direct line to bear his name, being a grandson of the late George R. Best, one of the most noted architects of this city. The wedding will take place in the spring.
=WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS= In the Church of the Heavenly Rest on Tuesday afternoon at 3:30 will be celebrated the wedding of Miss Doris Ryer, daughter of Mrs. Fletcher Ryer of San Francisco, Cal., to Stanhope Wood Nixon, son of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. The wedding ceremony will be witnessed by a large number of relatives and friends from California and several of the principal Eastern cities where the families of both the bride and her fiance are prominent. Gov. Charles S. Whitman is to act as Miss Ryer's sponsor and will give her away. Miss Phyllis de Young, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Michael H. de Young of San Francisco, will be the maid of honor and the bridesmaids will be the Misses Pauline Disston of Philadelphia, Ray Slater of Boston, Mary Moreland of Pittsburg, Elizabeth Sands of Newport, Frances Moore of Washington, and Helen Flake of this city. Walbridge S. Taft will be the best man. The ushers will be Henry S. Ladew, Patrick Calhoun, Henry Rogers Benjamin, Ammi Wright Lancashire, Esmond P. O'Brien and Hugh D. Cotton. Following the wedding ceremony there will be a reception in the ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton. The engagement of Miss Ryer and Mr. Nixon was announced last autumn. The bride-to-be has passed the greater part of the last two winters in New York with her mother and during the summer season has been identified with the colony in Newport, R. I.[38]