New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1912-11-24
BY Sol NIetlger.

vt Is one minute OF by the big solu
Iettered clock which smiles upon
Il thirty thousand people from the slde
Of the PENNSYLVANIA gymnasium that rises
at one end Of Franklin Field, and it Is the
Saturday afternoon following ThanksGF-
inc Dav. The thirty thousand are so
husbed that YOU might hear the TICK OF
this rold-lettered clock were IL not for the
fact that by reason Of its long exposure to
the irving climate of Philadelphia 1t mas
lost its voice Al the same moment III
far off Manila, were one present IN
certain officers club, he would note lhe
tense air Of expectancy that has setteu
upon the little group Of bronzed and erect
men gathered therein. A. the same mo-
ment in tropical Panama, were one present
I'm certain quarters, he would ma thaI
certain other brOnZed and erect men en-
gagged in the solution Of the greatest engl-
roering problem Of this age have APP
parently forgotten all about it for the
time being. And at the same moment, II
one were aboard any Of the many war
sbips in midocean headed for home he
would find other bronzed and erect men
who. If the truth were known, would pre-
fer, Just as would those in Panama ana
Manila and Alaska and Hawaii, TO be SIT
ting beneath the welcoming smiles OF TINS
same gold-lettered clock than before those
of the onliest girl in all this world
Truly, this is a wonderful clock, ana
as the long gold-lettered minute mana
points to the hour Of the noise Is dear
ening, for at this time each year begins
the football game the news OF when IS
flashed around the world,
THE VETERANS ARE RIOTERS.
II is the game between the Army and
Navy. This one team in gray, which IS
fighting. fighting fighting, is the team OF
that white-haired old general who leads
the cheering in the far off officers club
at Manila: it is the team Of that dust
covered. silver-haired colonel who is fore
ing his men in a trial march over the
sun-beaten, God-forsaken alkali plains OF
the Southwest, and II is the team OF that
blond-haired captain who is leading ms
company over the barren snow wastes or
far off Alaska, and who pauses upon this
dav and feels the pull Of his heart strings
as his mind takes him back to a scene
ten years before. when he waited with
heaving breast upon this same Franklin
Field for the kickoff that would give him
the long awaited opportunity TO help crush
the team in blue.
And this team in blue which is fight
ing, fighting. fighting. is The team Of that
fine old admiral who is seated upon the
north stand Of this same Franklin Field
and who won his honors at Manila or at
Santiago, names that will ring forever
I'm the pages Of American history: it is
the team Of that handsome captain VINO
lis pacing the quarter deck Of his warship
as It Is rushing under fun steam for the
home port, and II is the team Of that
happy, dashing ensign who at this mo-
mcnt as he waits for the kickoff upon
the side lines. is subduing an emotion
that he has not felt since that day. some
eight years before when the spirit Of the
corps filled his whole soul as he tore
through that stanch gray line and won
victory for the navy.
WATCHED BY NATIONS LEADERS.
These are the teams that battle in this
mimic warfare, and the scene is one past
description. Presidents, ambassadors,
ministers plenipOtentiary and extraordi-
nary, Cabinet members secretaries, Sen
etors. with generals and admirals and
such mere common humans as captains
and Heutenants and Congressman, cast
aside affairs of state to see this great
game. Also one might think all the
beauty in America had passed into the
stands.
And the game itself, Across the field
sweeps the battle cry of the army, Fight (!
Fight! Fight! Fight" 1t rings in volume
and cadence and without end. 1t is vol
leyed through hundreds Of megaphones by
the cadets who form gray mass in the
centre Of the south stand, which sways
forward as each roar bursts from 1t in
rvthm with a cheer leader who beats
time as though the whole dav hinged
upon his efforts Then from the north
stand comes "the Siren" the slogan OF
the navy. The cheer leader bends low,
with arms outstretched upon the ground,
and as he rises slowly the werdest most
penetrating noise ever devised by Amer
jcan youth (Which is saying a great dead
helms. 100000" screech seven hun
dred rnidshipmen through seven hundred
rnegaphones and as the leader rises high
er and higher 1.-The Siren" rises with him
until II eventually bursts Just short Of
heaven with a boom like rocket and a
vibration that rings down across the field
and fills stout hearts to overlooking.
wonderful is the volume Of the cheers,
wonderful Is the rhythm, but more won
derful than all is the ceaselessness Of
them.
Let Dalton kick a goal for the Navy
and the Navy stands rock with applause ;
you must needs hear the cry of the Army
even above this pandemonium. Fight!
Fight Fight. Fight" II leaps and
pounds its way through the din until IT
gets into the very heart OF the team in
gray and drives its faltering lines into
solldity and a strength that II has never
before dreamed Of
And yet IT is Of no avail for Dalton
has won the game for the Navy by his
goal. At its close a wild rush takes place
and you see those happy Navy players
borne on high by the middes as they
pour upon the field. Back and forth be-