The San Francisco call., 1910-11-13

their apparel so that red disported
itself vigorously on a vibrating white
background. or a huge white S wrig
gled on a rosy field of humanity.
FORM A BLUE AK
The California men came in and seat
ed themselves as a snowy band but
during those few nerve racking mo-
ments preceding the entrance of the
teams they obligingly rose with mighty
yells, removing superfluous garments
to form a wonderful blue ak with a
goldep edge, surrounded by whiteclad
forms.
California's team trotted gayly into
the public eye first, and their entrance
was the signal for a welcoming out
burst of "Oskies" from their rooters,
who tossed their blue and gold hats.
waved their blue and gold megaphones
and sent out a bewildering. flying, fut-
tering. floating mass of serpentines that
draped the section in a golden web.
Stanford's team was greeted even
more spectacularly by their rooters,
who accompanied their affectionate
yells with a volcanic eruption of the
reddest confetti in the world-it
couldn't have been any redder, so the
assertion is a safe one. Every man
must have had 10 pounds of it-there
is no other way to convey any idea
of how large the individual portions
seemed-and he threw it as high as he
could. Many people in San Francisco
wore some of It until bedtime last
night. Some of it crept into everything
on that side of the field.
COLoRS IN GALORE
Not all the color was with the root
ers, however. One must appreciate the
floral offerings of the girls. There were
chrysanthemums enough to do the
Babes in the Woods' act for both
teams: there were Violets enough to
break Wall street If sold in New York;
there were crimson, scarlet, flame, rose
and Just plain red flowers of every va
riety, and even occasionally clusters of
the brightest OF scarlet toyon berries.
Silken flags, knots and streamers Of the
opposing colors did much, too, to make
the day a happy one for the onlookers.
The real riot of color came in the SER
pentine after the final pistol shot which
marked the close of the game. The
Berkeley rooters leaped from their sec
ton, led by the yell leader and his as
sistants, and in shouting. winding lines
skipped madly up and down the field.
The happy youths sang until that be-
came a physical impossibility while
skipping, and then they gave breath
less, inarticulate whoops and howls of
JOY. Rooters' hats were tossed over the
goals with reckless Indifference to own
ership. Men fell frantically on each
other and pounded affectionately. On
all sides dizzy ranks of blue and gold
swept kaleidoscopically on.
And during all of this Stanford's root
ers remained in their places. They sang
their Stanford songs. gave their STAN
ford yells and preserved an air serene,
indifferent to fate"
EXCITEMENT, or THE GANr
AS to the game itself. It is remem-
brance of breathless moments, rosehued
peaks OF JOY, dreadful black CULTS of
despair, taut nerves, hopes, fears, in
articulate yelps such as cave ladies and
gentlemen might have used to express
emotion, unconscious curses of indi-
vidual players on either side, equally
unconscious terms of endearment ap-
piled to another dirty, strenuous striver
after the pigskin; masses of half clad,
muscular, savage faced youths hurting
themselves recklessly on each other,
and then i few pathetic bits.
The memory of Watts, the big, plucky
blue and gold player, writhing in agony
on the ground from the injury to his
knee which put him out of the game,
trying to get UP and play again. biting
his lips while great tears of pain