Roy Eliot Stokes

Summary

Roy Eliot Stokes Andy at Yale

He was rushing about, waving his hands, stamping his feet—a veritable little cyclone of a coach.
“Signal!” he cried sharply.
It came from the varsity quarter, and Andy noticed, with a thrill in his heart, that Gaffington was to take the ball.
“Here’s where I get him!” muttered Andy, fiercely.
There was a rush—a thud of bodies against bodies—gaspings of breaths, the cracking of muscles and sinews. Andy felt himself in a maelstrom of pushing, striving, hauling and toppling flesh. Then, in an instant, there came an opening, and he saw before him but one player—Mortimer—with the ball.
Source: Gutenberg

Roy Eliot Stokes Andy at Yale

Dunk flashed Andy a signal. It would not do, he knew, to spend this night—of all nights—the one before an important game—with this crowd of fun-loving lads. They must get away.
“Look here, fellows!” expostulated Andy, “we really can’t come, you know!”
“That’s right,” chimed in Dunk. “Let us off this time and maybe to-morrow night——”
“There may never be a to-morrow night!” chanted one of the tormentors. “Live while you can, and enjoy yourself. You’re a long time dead. To-morrow is no man’s time. The present alone is ours.
Source: Gutenberg

Roy Eliot Stokes Andy at Yale

The ball rose and sailed toward the posts as the Harvard team rushed out. And then fate again favored Yale, for a little puff of wind carried the spheroid just inside the posts and over the bar. The goal had been kicked, adding to Yale’s points. She had won.
Once more the cheers broke forth, and Andy’s team-mates surrounded him. They slapped him on the back; they called him all sorts of harsh-sounding but endearing names; they jostled him to and fro.
“Come on, now!” cried the Yale captain. “A cheer for Harvard! No better players in the world! Altogether, boys!”
Source: Gutenberg

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