N the sixth of January, 1915, the Cornhusker basketball team invaded the commonwealth of Iowa and attacked a section of the United States army which was stationed at Fort Dodge, in that state. Current stories of the flabby inefficiency of our military department were found to be false. After a hard battle, lasting about an hour, the invaders were forced to submit to defeat. Eye witnesses of the conflict assert that the success of the soldiers was due, not so much to their ability, as it was to the inability of the visitors to hoop the ball when they had the chance. The score reads 23 for Company G to 18 for the Huskers.

      Manager Guy Reed, who went along with the team to keep it out of mischief, decided that he hadn't trained his boys to play with soldiers, and that in the future they should contest only with undergraduates of institutions of higher learning. Accordingly, he picked a quarrel with a little college known by the euphonious title of Hamline, and located in the bosom of Scandinavian America. To facilitate the settlement of the dispute Manager Reed shipped his crew of stalwarts into the frozen North. The enemy was sighted in the region of St. Paul, Minnesota, on the evening of the seventh of January. The lines were drawn-also the Hamlines--a charge was ordered, and the gallant Nebraskans threw themselves furiously upon the foe, only to be thrown off again without much difficulty. For forty minutes the struggle waxed and waned, with the Hamliners doing the waxing. When the bugler sounded the signal for retreat, the victorious sons of Hamline swelled with pride over the score of 20 to 9. They had been outplayed, but they were far more familiar with the location of the baskets than were their southern rivals; that is the secret.

      A small group of gigantic Gophers occupied ringside seats at the Hamline fray. They were there, not simply for amusement; their prime object was to study the style and learn the tricks of the Cornhuskers, for they were billed to meet these same athletes for a couple bickerings, and they longed for victory as only a Gopher can. Well did they remember the inglorious lickings they had taken from these Cornhuskers only the year before, and through their beings surged a deep desire for revenge. Well, they got it, all right!

      The first neeting (sic) occurred on January 8. From the start the Gophers found themselves outclassed, so far as handling the ball was concerned. They didn't even get to look at it more than once in a while, but when they did they made it count two points. Thus they sneaked by with the big end of a 22 to 18 score, and they thought of the morrow, and were sore afraid. However, they needn't have been.

      In the second game the big blonde children of the Northland tore into their opponents with a desperation born of fear. They took the lead early and increased it later. When it was all over they found that they had done even better than on the previous evening, while their rivals had done only half as well. The Gopher score was 23, while the Cornhuskers could show but a puny 9, most of which had come by the free-throw route. Manager Reed brought the team home by the next train.

     Over in Iowa it has been the custom

 

for many years for the younger farmers of the state to congregate at the little village of Ames for the purpose of studying the finer points of their profession. Here they gather to discuss crop rotation, or boot the inflated pigskin, or fuss the domestic science co-eds, as their will may lead them-but this is not intended to be a farmer's bulletin. The news of Nebraska's disastrous northern trip flowed into the Ames camp on January 12, causing quite a sensation among the modest ruralites, who had been wont to look upon their western neighbor as invincible in the field of athletics. From time immemorial they had contributed to the glory of the Cornhuskers on the gridiron, the basketball floor and the cinder path, taking in return, what little honor they could glean from the cross-country meet. The thought soon suggested itself that here was their opportunity to win for themselves great renown by defeating these haughty Nebraskans in honorable combat in the basketball arena.

      The opposing teams clashed for the first time on the 15th of January, that day being Friday. The Hawkeye Farmers found that, regardless of what the Huskers were away from home, they were real "devils in their own home town". The game ended with the score 32 to 15 in favor of the defenders of Scarlet and Cream, which was small satisfaction to the Aggies. They were given a chance to redeem themselves on the following evening, but, though they played hard, and gave the best they had, they couldn't produce the goods. They gracefully acknowledged defeat, thanked the Nebraskans for the courteous treatment they had received, and invited them to return the visit at their earliest convenience, which invitation was gladly accepted.

      Again the wanderlust seized hold of the Cornhusker athletes. A trip into the balmy South, they reasoned, would bring them profit and enjoyment, so they packed their grips and boarded the train for Manhattan, Kansas, that being the stronghold of the Kansas Agriculturalists. There they met the Aggie team in a couple of spirited contests on the twentieth and twenty-first, of January, winning both games by close scores, the first being 26 to 19 and the second 26 to 20.

      Encouraged by their success, they decided to raid the nest of the wily old Jayhawk. A few months before they had taken the measure of the Jayhawk on the gridiron in a most complete and all-embracing fashion. The queer old bird had dragged herself home, and hadn't been heard from since. Possibly she was dead! They would go to Lawrence and find out. They went. They found out. Like the fabulous Phenix (sic) of old, they found the Jayhawk; not writhing in mortal agony, with the death gurgle in her throat, but young, strong, rejuvenated; with tail-feathers a yard long and talons to spare; screaming defiance.

      Being young and bold, the Huskers grappled with this dangerous fowl, and got themselves badly mauled. To put it on a mathematical basis the Jayhawk's fight was worth 45 points to 17 for the Cornhuskers. The following evening, January 23, a second encounter took place with somewhat the same result, Kansas 30 to Nebraska 23. Realizing the significance of the score, as well as the date, the Cornhuskers "skiddoed" for home.

      Ever since the Wesleyan quintet put the kibosh on Nebraska at the Auditorium in the winter of 1914, our suburban Methodist neighbors have been swelled with a disgusting pride. The sensative (sic) ear of the loyal Cornhusker has found their everlasting chatter most disagreeable. It was, therefore, with a feeling of misgiving that we of the Stiehm persuasion learned that our team would meet Wesleyan on her own floor, on February 5, for it was a matter of common knowledge that the Coyotes, as they term themselves, had an even better team than that of the previous year. Vifquain, Kline, Johnson, Hughes, Hussey, surely these were names to conjure with in the western world of basketball. To

  

 

give matters a still more lop-sided appearance, Hawkins, the dashing captain of the Cornhuskers, and Shields, the strong and clever forward, sustained injuries which would keep them out of the game, while Seven Meyers, the lengthy center, "obeying that impulse" to go "back to the farm", quit school at the end of the first semester. A heavy responsibility rested upon the shoulders of the substitutes, but they accepted it unfalteringly, yea, even gladly, and right nobly did they aquit (sic) themselves.

      The referee had not been warned. He little realized, when he accepted the job, the burning hatred that rankled in the hearts of the opposing teams. He thought he was to referee an ordinary basketball game, but before the contest was three minutes old he discovered that he was the chief official for a battle royal. The moment a player on either side was so unfortunate as to get hold of the ball, he was gang-tackled by the whole opposing team. This sort of thing, though highly diverting to the spectators, was frowned upon by the authorities of the rival schools. The Cornhuskers won the game by the score of 13 to 9, and the atmosphere around University Place was blue with disappointment.

      Flushed with victory, the Nebraskans set forth on their third and last journey. They first took their way to Des Moines, the capital city of Iowa, where they twisted the tail of the Drake Bulldog for a couple of spasms, the first resulting in the modest score of 14 to 5, while the second yielded the more generous count of 23 to 14, the Stiehmers being at the long end of both encounters. The Cornhusker machine was going good.

      The visit of the Ames Aggies was then returned. The Aggies had patched up their team until it was able to render quite a creditable account of itself. In fact, it won the second game by a score of 25 to 11, but it had already lost the first, 24 to 12, not to mention the two games lost to the Huskers earlier in the season. These games were played on February 12 and 13.

      On February 19, the Drake Bulldog, smarting from the punishment he had received at the hands of the Cornhuskers the week before, dashed into Lincoln, panting for revenge. In the closest game of the season he took the measure of the Nebraskans, the score being 20 to 19. It was anybody's game until the final whistle blew, and then it was Drake's forever. The Bulldog had "shot his wad", however, for on the following evening he fell an easy prey, before the savage rush of the aroused Cornhuskers, who counted 29 points while he was getting 11.

      But one game on Nebraska's schedule remained to be played. That was the return game with the Weslayan (sic) Coyotes. It was set for Wednesday evening, March 3. The Armory was half full of cheering Methodists by seven o'clock in the evening, and before the game started standing room was at a premium. The whistle blew and the game was on. Also, the stuff was off. The Scarlet and Cream rooters were compelled to admit that Wesleyan had the goods, and over. The Huskers played desperately, and to the finish, but they were unable to break up the marvelous team work of the Methodists. The game ended with Wesleyan 39 to 15 for Nebraska, and forthwith the atmosphere around University Place took on a more rosy hue.

      Nebraska's season was over. She had played in eighteen games, thirteen of which were away from home. Of those thirteen she won six and lost seven. Of the five home games three resulted in victories for the Scarlet and Cream, giving us a total of nine games won and nine lost. The team got a poor start, and when it did begin to get into form, was wrecked by the loss of Captain Hawkins, Shields and Meyers. Hawkins, Shields, Meyers, Rutherford, and Hugg were given their letter at the end of the season. Promising material for next year developed in the persons of Theisen, who made all of Nebraska's 15 points in the second Wesleyan game; Keifer, who showed up well in the

  

 

center position in several games; Campbell, who covered himself with glory in the first Wesleyan contest; Milliken and Gardiner, all of whom looked like comers from the rooter's seat.

     Of the regulars Ed Hugg probably deserves credit for being the most consistent player throughout the season. That his ability is recognized by his teammates is evidenced by their action in unanimously electing him to the captaincy of next year's team.

 

Basketball Squad at Ames