For three periods Saturday Nebraska's home-comers sat amazed as the no longer humble Tigers of old Mizzou held the Cornhuskers scoreless and the unleashed a 50-some-yard forward pass for the opening score. Nebraska hadn't been idle, however. In the top photos (left one by Associated Press) Bob Benson is making gains of nine and 10 yards. Notice how he carries the ball in the left picture. Associated Press
Memorial Stadium, Lincoln, Neb., Nov. 24—For a time this afternoon it looked like Colonel Bible’s boys were dominated by a yen to make big history that all but stifled the urge to win themselves a football game.
There have been other afternoons this fall when the Bible boys’ urge to win was a pale and sickly thing. On those occasions, however, a dose of verbal tonic relayed from the bench by a substitute generated enough vigor to enable them to overcome their Big Six opponents.
This afternoon it took a shocking Missouri touchdown to make the history they were in the process of manufacturing wasn’t the sort that causes guys to be remembered as heroes, but quite to the contrary, does surround them with a goatish atmosphere that frequently persists for years.
Huskers Not Series
With 20 minutes remaining those Huskers came to life. In just four of the 20 they got themselves 13 points. These were enough to nullify the six that the fighting (Yes, I said “fighting”) Tigers so astonishingly accomplished pretty well along in the third quarter. They were enough to make next Thursday’s exercises here with Kansas State 60 minutes of championship wrangling. And almost as important from the standpoint of history, they kept Nebraska from being the team that punctuated with the Missouri losing streak which began right after their first game in 1933 and hasn’t ended yet—although for a time today it appeared to more than 15 thousand home-comers as if the Bible boys were going to yield to a beautiful self-forgetfulness and accommodate their guests.
Doubtless it can be said with good reason that the Bible boys weren’t very serious. They wanted to go out there and have a lot of fun. Yes, this is probably correct. But just as accurate is the statement that young Mr. Carideo’s hapless pupil came here primed to raise hell and if their hosts refused to treat them as stern equals then so much the merrier for them.
Turner Makes 45 Yards
Doubtless because he knew of the frothy mental state of his No. 1 pupils, Colonel Bible chased his understudy cast onto the yard to inaugurate the festive proceedings. The understudies, he could feel fairly confident, would be burning with the desire to show up their principals, yawning with boredom over there on the bench, if not to run and throw like everything against the Tigers.
The sub hands did try. Al Turner skittered back the kickoff 45 yards pretty deep into Mizzou’s precincts. From there he and Ralph Eldridge, Ron Douglas and Sam’l Francis began to generate speed and power that with fleeting interruptions advanced the zone of playful disorder 10 paces from six points. There Master Francis failed by inches to make it first down and the Tigers took the ball.
Frank Had Talked
Plainly young Mr. Carideo had exhorted his pupils with Ciceronian (Ill.) eloquence, had hepped them to a state of snarling fight a bit too hot for the second string to handle. Desiring to play it safe, technically if not spiritually, Colonel Bible chased his No. 1 class on the play yard at the start of the second act. Only Old Hoss Cardwell stayed on the bench. The fact he stayed there, favoring a lumpy ankle, probably did have a drabbing effect on his playmates’ enthusiasm, for the Old Hoss loves to play any kind of football and his delight in combat is contagious.
But the No. 1 class didn’t go marching to any glory. Through the second period and much of the third, it marched well enough, up and down the field, shoving the Missouris backs with rude inconsideration until a touchdown seemed imminent. Then it either pfutted the chance, was fined heavily for breaches of etiquette or was embarrassed by the suddenly authoritative opposition served up by the gallant young men in the black livery, a color that has been unusually appropriate on the Missouris the last three autumns.
Tigers Grow Mean
Failure to score didn’t appear to bring the Huskers up sharp and wondering. Even with the third act developing its middle scenes they seemingly knew no reason to hurry. They grinned when they were brought down thumping on the soles of their pants and cantered joyously in circles when their tight-lipped, grim, sweating rivals took out recess. True, the Missouris hadn’t been able to accomplish anything to their own account. They had been kept pretty busy shoving the red-shirted roisterers back from their 10 and 12-yard line. But at this, at least, they had been successful.
Then, without warning the Tigers became Tigers of the gaudy, proud days when Gwinn Henry was their keeper. The way they suddenly came to robust, assertive life and got themselves a touchdown over the bulging-eyed, flabbergasted Huskers recalled the grand times in the middle 1920’s. Was that big George Flamank down there again, poised to pitch, as he pitched a Cornhusker wonder team into humiliating defeat in 1927? Was that Bertram Clark racing down the yard to make the catch—and making it, speeding on to a score?
No, it was Halfback Art Lochiner today, Art Lochiner and End Harold Bourne. But the part they played was the part made famous by Flamank and Clark in the reign of Henry the Silent.
Six or seven minutes remained in the third quarter. The Tigers had taken the ball on downs on their own 46. The playful Huskers didn’t bother much about punting, save when they felt a kick would produce fun. Lochiner took the snapback and back-stepped deep behind his desperately battling linesmen. Not many yards ahead of the play’s starting point Bourne trotted goalward, unmolested. Lochiner cocked his arm and threw. Bourne made an easy catch. Then he set off on a beautiful run while most of the bonny boys in scarlet stood rooted in their tracks, plumb dazed. One or two of the secondary lit out after him, but the sophomore from Texas is a speedy youth. Some Bible boy did tackle him—behind the goal. Pitch and gallop—most of it gallop—covered 54 yards.
Side Johnson’s placekick was low, but those six points were enough finally to convince the Huskers that while they fiddled a championship was slipping from them and only some 20 minutes remained in which to do anything about it.
Three Practice Crossings
They set to work. Chief Bauer lugged Lochiner’s punt 13 yards to his own 49 as the quarter gun popped.
Two minutes after the start of the final period it was Nebraska 7, Missouri 6. Four minutes after it was Nebraska 13, Missouri 6, and during the remaining 11 minutes the Huskers crossed the payoff line three more times, once through the air, twice on the ground. But none of these counted because lynx-eyed field police said they detected mild breaches of ethical conduct, such as holding and crawling. The Bible boys never did get their third touchdown, but they did get a lot of practice.
Chief Bauer threw 27 yards to Eldridge for the first score. Eldridge made the catch without trouble on the two-yard line and just stepped over. So many Tiger boys had the idea of rushing Passer Bauer that Receiver Eldridge was practically unmolested. Onto the field came Virgil Yelkin whose boot brought victory over the crossbars at K.U. a week ago. Virgil’s place kick was good.
Also Kicked Off
Virgil also did the kickoff. He booted into the end zone and from the 20-yard line the Tigers began desperate tactics, doubtless buttressed with prayer. Lochiner passed. Sid Johnson made a sort of half-catch, then appeared to nudge the ball into Bob Benson’s hands. Benson lost no time getting away from there. He ran back some seven yards to the Tigers’ 30. From there he, Bauer and Skewes combined to lateral and forward-lateral their way to the nine mark. There the Chief whanged through center, couldn’t break himself of the lateral habit, looked vainly for someone to pitch to, saw no one, so nuzzled the ball against his bosom again and rather deliberately ambled over the goal. This time Yelkin’s kick was low and outside as the umpires say so often in the Western league.
Short seconds after the kickoff the Nebraskans were back deep in the Bengal precincts again. First Bauer threw a lateral to Eldridge from the two-yard line. Good old Ralphie, seemingly out to show Colonel Bible what a valiant hand he has been keeping on the sidelines made it across but some teammate was detected holding and instead of six points the Huskers got 15 yards.
Cop Again Halts Score
Then Bauer passed 26 yards to Benson, who waited in the end zone to make a perfect catch. This time some belatedly aroused laddie in red used his hands most impolitely and again the result was 15 yards fine instead of a touchdown profit.
Ralphie made one more effort. He hit the middle from four yards out, looked ahead and saw he was a foot or so short. So stretching on his belly he reached the ball as far forward as possible. He managed to lay it down over the goal.
“Five yards for crawling” snapped a field cop and right after that the game ended.