one of those terrible Monday practice games, of which every football
player knows. The varsity could not make any substantial gains against
the second team, which was unusually strong that year, as most of the
varsity substitutes were playing. How frantic Bill Church was! He was
playing tackle alongside of Edwin Crowdis, against whom I was playing.
My chances of making the Varsity were getting slimmer. Very few practice
days were left before the men would be selected for the final game. I
was making the last earnest stand. The varsity line men were not opening
up the scrub line as easily as they desired, and we were all stopping up
the offensive play of the Varsity. I was going through very low and
tackling Crowdis around the legs, trying to carry him back into the
play. Church was very angry at my doing this, and told Crowdis to hit
me, if I did it again, but Edwin was a good-natured, clean player; in
fact, I doubt if he ever rough played any man. Finally, after several
plays, Church said, "If you don't hit him, I will," and he sure made
good his threat, for on the next play, when I was at the bottom of the
heap in the scrimmage, Church handed me one of those stiff "Bill Church
blows," emphasizing the tribute with his leather thumb protector. There
was a lively mixup and the scrub and Varsity had an open fight. All was
soon forgotten, but I still "wear an ear," the lobe of which is a
constant reminder of Bill Church's spirited play. Nothing ever stood in
Church's way; he was a hard player, and a powerful tackle.

Slowly but surely, Cochran's great team was perfecting itself into a
machine. The victory against Harvard at Cambridge was the team's worthy
reward for faithful service and attention given to the details of the
game.

As a reward for service rendered, the second team with the Varsity
substitutes were taken on the trip, and as we saw the great Princeton