Great Teams and the people who love them

Amy threw up his hands in despair.

“Yes. Say, what the dickens was that?”

replied Amy modestly
“I dare say if I had I’d have shown you fellows a few things about it,”
replied Amy modestly. “Theoretically, I’m something of an authority on
football. When you come right down to brass tacks, it’s the fellow on
the side line who sees most of the game. I’m considering coaching when I
leave school. Take my young friend Clint here. Clint owes a whole lot to
my advice and guidance. He wouldn’t be where he is today if it hadn’t
been for me, would you, Clint?”

“Wonder what’s inside,” said Clint in a low voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Right-o,” agreed Amy. “I didn’t want any coffee, anyway. Isn’t that a
sign-post ahead?”

“That’s enough, Amy,” he said. “He can’t fight.”

“It is quite unnecessary. Anyone knowing my blameless career–”