THE GIRL AND THE GAME
—whiz! bang!—I tore my way through the line (they didn't even seem to try to stop me), and—sure enough I was right this time—there was their quarter socking back the ball. I heard him grunt. Boyle tried to block me; I brushed him over. The full-back was now catching the ball. He drew back his foot to kick; high up in the air I jumped in front of him. I heard a double "thump, thump!" I felt the ball bounce off my chest; saw it bounding and rolling innocently off to the right, ten yards away, all alone with nobody between it and the good goal-posts. I swerved toward it—on the next bound I would scoop it up; I thought of Ann; it bounded crooked. (Why?) I grabbed at it, juggled it, dropped it, dropped on it. Then they began dropping on me, and for the first time that day I heard the roaring of the many thousands around the field. My chance was over!
When the pyramid untangled itself and got off, I did not get up, you'll remember. That was because a tendon in my right
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