Santa Rosa High School - Echo Yearbook (Santa Rosa, CA)

Page 15 text:

THE PORCUPINE The Winner “Hey, wait a minute!” Bob stopped in answer to the summons, and waited for the boys’ basketball team. Lawrence the manager of White gave him a letter which read “Piermont High School has received your letter of the 17th, and will play your team of Cleveland High School in a basketball game on’ November Ist. “Sincerely, “Walter Overton.” “Good! When did you get it?” asked Bob Sanborn, the captain. “This morning. I’ve been searching the earth for you,” was the answer. “Come on, let’s tell the rest of the fellows. They ll yell for joy when they learn that we're going to lick our old enemy on the first of November.” “Yes, if we can lick ’em,” returned the practical Law- rence. “White, you make me tired. Of course we can beat ’em with Knight as goaler. There’s nothing the matter with him, let me tell you. What do you think of him?” “He's all right,” and when Lawrence White said that in that way, he meant. it. The evening of the first of November finally came. It was half after seven, with the game scheduled to start at eight o'clock. Confusion reigned supremely in the dress- ing room: A glance into the hall showed the immense assembly awaiting impatiently for this, the most important game of the season. The Cleveland boys were gathered around their. captain, listening intently while he encouraged them. They were going in to win squarely and fairly, in- tending to come out at least a few points ahead of “those old scrubs.” But “those old scrubs” were not so srubby as their opponents thought them to be. In fact at the end of

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THE PORCUPINE The boys were duly watched, and one evening they were sure, from certain signs, that something was about to hap pen. The headmaster called a meeting and it was decided that they should all go to their rooms, put out the. lights and keep watch. If any of the boys went out they would follow them and prevent any mischief. At about ten o’clock their patience was rewarded by see- ing a solitary fgure leave the building and walk quietly down the driveway, dodging into the shadows at every chattce. They as quietly followed, and after a long and chilly walk arrived by a devious route at St. Johns. It was too late. The boys had been there before them, and the one they had followed was merely a decoy, who now mysteriously disappeared. Above the imposing en trance to the main building, above the chiseled “St. Johns,” was a gaudy red “W.” [t was useless to do anything then, so the masters re- turned cold and sold. But the worst was to come. The iron gates into the court were closed fast. One after another the 1asters tried to force them open, but to no avail. Suddenly it dawned upon them. They had been barri- caded. This was the revenge of the boys for the close watch at had been kept upon them. After breaking into the work room they managed to get a mg ladder, and placed it against the gate.. Then one of vem climbed down inside, and after a long intervals suc- ceeded in pulling away the chairs, benches and other furni- ture placed against the door. At about twelve, a group of weary, nearly frozen masters sought their rooms, while their wicked wards dreamed peacefully of the pleasant surprise awaiting St. Johns in the morning. Strange to say there was never any attempt made to catch and punish the barricaders, and to this day the masters are wondering how the boys discovered their plans.

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14 THE PORCUPINE the first half they stood one point ahead of Cleveland. The scoreboard read “6—5.” Five minutes more in which to win the game, with the score just the same as at the end of the first half. Suddenly a shout burst from the excited audience—but it was just as the referee’s whistle blew. Bob had made a splendid field throw, but had Karl Knight, the idol of the school, fouled just before? One referee thought that he had caught the ball and thrown it while he was outside the field. The other thought he was inside, but neither were positive. If the referee who called the foul was correct then, of course; the goal would not count, and Piermont would win, for only two minutes were left, and what could be done in that time? The referees could not come to a decision, so they asked Karl if he were conscious of fouling. Here was a chance to win the game! But he remembered the captain’s words, “Tf we win, it must be squarely,” so with only a moment’s hesitation he answered with a simple “Yes, I fouled.” No more was said. The game was resumed, but Karl was determined to do something. He must make a field throw in those two minutes. Before the Piermont boys had fully recovered themselves from joy over the decision, the ball was in Karl’s hands; in the next second it was on the edge of the basket. Unde- cided whether it would win the game for Cleveland or Pier- mont, it rolled around the rim, then stopped, wavered for a moment before it rolled, not into the basket, but onto the floor. The whistle blew; time was up, so the boys trooped off to the dressing room; that is, the Cleveland boys did. The Piermont boys remained for fully ten minutes, tearing off their high school yells as if they were mad. All Cleveland High School was disappointed in the result of the game, but not in Karl. Honesty is always admired. He was disappointed himself, yet he felt the joy of victory. He had conquered a dishonest impulse.