“Heart” Horton

'fleart'-Horto HAPR G EORGE "Heart" Horton, substitute center of the Gunnell University basketball squad, paused with his hand on the knob of Coach John Crowley's office door. He merely wanted a mo- ment in which to screw up his courage before entering the place where he intended to give the coach a thrashing. Heart carried his basketball suit under his arm, for he had quit the squad. He swung the door open and walked in. Coach Crowley, a com- pact, well-built man of medium size and thinning hair, sat at his desk where he had been working over a list of names for the squad. He glanced up through his glasses at the young giant who entered, his steel-gray eyes two interroga- tion points. "Well?" he said after a moment. Heart found it a little harder to get started than he had anticipated, in the presence of those calm gray eyes that seemed to bore through him to the door he had locked be- hind him. "I've quit the basketball squad," Heart finally managed to say. The sound of his own voice gave him courage. "There's the old suit." He flung it contemptuously into a chair. "I'm leavin' school." earns 'Basketball MERRILL don' licking's for, or it won't do me any good." The player stuck out his jaw as he re- plied, "It's for being the most unfair, the most discriminating crook in basketball!" Heart exploded. "I came up here from Windsor high school an all-state center — six feet three in my stocking feet — and get set on the bench for my pains so you can play that little pet of yours — Buddy Kinkaid ! Now I t stand for that a tall!" H T HE coach sat back in his chair and looked quizzically over his glasses. "But before I leave, I'm goin' to give you a lickin'," the boy con- tinued. "I've had to take every- thing from you; now I'm goin' to "Hold on, hold on, old kid, before you get all mixed up."— The coach rose to his feet. — "Now calm down a little and tell me all about it." "Nothin' to tell," the youngster answered surlily. 'You're not goin' to talk me out of any of the things I said — nary a one." The coach screwed up his eyes. "But I ought to know what the EART spread out his big hand in a contemptuous gesture. His hesitancy had left him. He was now a fighter, a calm one. He took his coat off and hung it on a hook. The coach, old in the ways of young men — boys — looked on calmly, sadly. "When men play on my teams, they play my style of ball — or they don't play!" he said firmly. "They crawl around you, you mean! Look at Buddy Kinkaid! Poor little shrimp hasn't got the ball in center twice this whole year! Yet, he's out there, every darned game, and I'm eatin' my heart out on the bench. It won't go, I tell you! I'm goin' to give you a floggin' so you won't treat the next fella that comes along the way you've treated me and then — I'm through!" He squared up in front of the coach. "Take your glasses off. I don't want to blind you, — permanently. Down where I come from they fight square." 1 HE boy might have been warned by those cool gray eyes, but he rather took the coach's calmness for fear. Why shouldn't the coach fear ? Crowley was fully five inches shorter and was not what one would call a particularly robust looking man. The coach removed his glasses* and laid them on his desk. "Listen, big boy," he remon- strated. "You don't want to fight your teacher, do you? You'd be sorry of that the rest of your life." "Would I?" Heart sneered.. 'You watch me. I've been look- ing forward to this meeting a week now. If you won't fight, I'll just turn you over my knee and spank you and let it go at that." Heart was not excited now, merely determined. He had plan- ned this meeting carefully and hi& own pride and words he had let- fall to some of the fellows pre- vented him from shifting his posi- tion regarding the matter. 1 O precipitate matters,, he seized the watchful coach by the collar and jerked him forward and at the same moment released a short right to the face. It never landed. Things began to happen with unusual sudden- ness. Heart wasn't sure what. He' found himself lying full length on- the floor with a peculiar sensation along his jaws and under his ears- He sat up dazedly. Coach Crow- ley stood calmly at his desk. Then Horton remembered. He leaped to his feet. Now he was angry. He saw red. He had been floored, that was what had hap- pened to him! W ITH long arms- flailing, he rushed the coach. Again something happened, but this time he remembered everything. A mule had kicked him between the eyes some way and he had thudded to the floor with a jar that shook his ancestors. But Heart was not a quitter. He- merely guessed that the coach must.

The Improvement Era for December ', 1929 129 know something about boxing and that he had better shift his attack. He would fool him this time. He would rush him; get hold of the little pigmy and wipe up the office with him. Cautiously, watchfully he rose to his feet. With a lunge, his face protected by his out- stretched arms, he was upon the coach. Crowley let the boy seize him by the collar. That was the last George could remember until he sat up rubbing a lump on his head where he had struck the floor. He struggled to his feet and leaned against the wall dizzy, surprised — disappoint- ed. G i OACH Crowley went over to him and put his arm around his shoulders. Heart did not resist. He was no small calibre boy. He knew when it was decent to be subdued. He allowed the arm to remain. "Sorry, old kid," the little coach said, "awfully sorry. It just couldn't be helped, I guess." "It's all right — all my doin's," Heart replied evenly. "Down in our country we know when we meet a better man and — take it." "Not a better man, old kid, just a better trained man. W'y if you had my training, you'd eat me alive." "I guess that's the difference," Heart answered. "Yes, that's the difference. You see you're bigger, have longer arms, younger, just as quick — but I've been fooling around gymnasiums for more years than you've lived, lots more. W'y I've been teaching boxing and wrestling for half that long a time." 1 HOPE you — don't think I'm a quitter," the youth said in a low tone, half fearful that he had shown the white feather. "I didn't feel just right — jumpin' on you, any how. Thought it'd be a kind of shame to lick such a little fella" — he grinned humor- ously as he rubbed his swelling eyes — "and then, you are my teacher, after all." "Quitter!" the wise old coach exclaimed. "I should say not! I never expected you to come back for the second, let alone the third. A professional boxer would have stayed down for the count on that first one. Now let's see what we can do for that face, before it dis- colors." "Gosh, I'm glad," the young man exclaimed as he bent over the sink. "Some fellas rather than take it like a man would a grabbed a chair or something. I ain't that kind." "I knew you were not that kind, old man," the coach answered. "A coach can usually tell." "Sorry I came in here a tall." Cr< patted LOWLEY him on the back. "It's always best to get the bit- terness out of the heart before it becomes chronic." The coach ceased his work on the bruised face. "Awfully sorry you decided to quit. We need you the worst kind for — substitute." The big boy looked down into the steel gray eyes. "What's the matter with me, coach?" he asked. "Why don't you like me for a center?" "I do, old kid, very much, but you have a lot to learn, and up un- til the present you haven't been willing to be taught. You came up here thinking you knew all there is to know about basketball. You sneered at my drills; you played your style of ball, not mine; you shot from bad positions; you wouldn't pass; you broke up my team work." "But I can hit the hoop," Heart responded. "There isn't a center in this conference who can do it better, or get the tip-off over me." "There you go." The coach grinned. "You've thought you "The ball was tossed up in center and the merry game was on! were a king-pin of a player — that you were much better than the rest of the gang. It takes five men to make a basketball team." "But look at poor little Buddy. He positively looks pathetic out there in the center against some of the giant centers in this conference. Doc. Bicknell says so, too." 1 HE coach faced the center. "Getting it in center isn't every- thing. It doesn't mean more than eight points at the most, and what are eight points? How come we are winning our games? Suppose you watch that little pathetic Buddy with an idea that you would like to learn to play basket- ball." The coach patted the boy on the shoulder. "If you ever learn to play as well, no one can keep you out of center." Coach Crowley held out his hand, "Well, sorry to have you leave." He jerked his head toward the scene of battle. "And I'm doubly sorry about this." "I'm not leaving," Heart replied. "That is — unless you make me. I'm going to learn to play your style of basketball, and as for this" — he motioned with his hand toward the place where he had struck the floor — "I have an idea that is my first lesson." A sheepish grin wreathed his lips as he took the coach's hand and pumped it up and down. Then he put on his coat, picked up his basketball suit and went out clos- ing the door softly behind him. FROM that day on Heart Horton was a new player. He did his best to forget all he had ever learned about basketball and set himself to master the game all over again the way Coach Crowley wanted it played. His experience in the coach's office had taught him to respect little men — that a little man whose muscles are properly coordinated is better than a big man whose body has not had dis- cipline. Both in practice and in regular games he watched Buddy Kinkaid with a new interest. To his sur- prise he discovered that the little center, after all, was a truly great basketball man, that he was the link that connected the fast moving forward line with a steady guard wall. He saw, too, that Buddy

130 The Improvement Era for December, 1929 rarely pitched at the basket unless he was in a position that would guarantee the completion of the try or would permit his team mates to recover the ball. He saw, also, that Buddy's arms worked with a precision and accuracy that made the game he played brilliant for its steadiness, not for its spectacular exhibitions. Hi lEART was eager to push into center. He knew that some big games were coming up at the close of the season when Gunnell would fight for a con- ference championship. He wanted to play in those games. He knew with his reach and action and ac- curacy that he would stand a good show of being made all-conference center, as in high school, he had been made all-state center. Fortune favored him. In the first game Gunnell played with the Hillcrests, champions of the United States, Buddy Kinkaid sprained his ankle. The sprain was not serious, but since these were mere exhibition games, Coach Crowley would not take the chance of al- lowing his star center to continue. Heart was sent in to take his place. He was overjoyed. It looked as if he would have the best op- portunity he had ever had to show the fans what he could do. "and calmly caged both pitches. Ti HE second half had been under way four minutes when Horton took Kinkaid's place. The score stood 27 to 24 in favor of the champions. The ball was tossed up in center and the merry battle was on once more. At first Heart had little difficulty in out jumping his op- ponent. His recent training was revealed in the smooth manner in which he fitted into the work of his team. Gunnell made two baskets setting the score at 28 to 27 in their favor. Then the champions strength- ened. The Hillcrest's broke through Gunnell's defense and sank three balls through the hoop in much less than that many minutes. Heart was frantic. His recent weeks of training dropped away and he was once more the lone player, fighting, running, pivoting, dribbling, shooting for the basket from the center of the floor or from the side lines whenever he got possession of the sphere. At last he made a lucky throw and the ball sank through the basket. The crowd went wild with joy. A moment later, however, the Hillcrest's, making a brilliant rally, carried the ball down the floor and flipped one through, once more taking the lead. A BIT tired now, Heart at the next toss-up was sur- prised to have his opponent take the tip-off. He did it again a moment later when the ball got tied up and the two had to jump. Heart was desperate. The last vestige of Coach Crowley's train- ing dropped away. Upon the next toss-up he brought into play an old trick he had mastered in high school. His elbow "accidently" contacted with his opponent holding him ever so slightly, but sufficiently for Heart to get the tip-off. This time he touched it with his long fingers, then seizing it in his hands he tossed it over his shoulder in a high arch. The ball sank through the basket without touching the hoop. The crowd went mad. Every- body, including Heart, knew that Coach Crowley had made a gross error in judgment keeping that young giant out of the contest as long as he did. organization, Heart began employ- ing all the dirty little tricks he had learned during a long basketball career in high school in an outlying district where the officiating had been none too technical. Gunnell was gradually drawing away from the great Hillcrests. Coach Crowley, in the midst of the rally, made a substitution. Heart was furious when he sent in a new guard to replace one who had been doing great work. After the first play Heart called time out for a conference. Surely the guard must have an important message for the team. "Coach says for you to quit that fouling," the substitute an- nounced. "Says for you to get down to team work again." That was all. Young Horton grinned in derision at the stupidity of the coach. He had found the kind of game that would whip the Hillcrests. Unused to bodily con- tacts of any kind, they were blow- ing up under his style of play. Oi 'N the first toss-up, Heart repeated his slight foul and took the ball. A moment later when the ball went out of bounds, the whistle blew for a substitution. Heart glanced over to the scorers to see who was coming in this time. He could not believe his eyes. It was Red Johnson, second substi- tute center. "Horton out!" the scorer shouted. Heart staggered as he left the floor, head hanging. The crowd yowled and booed the coach. They were all certain that Heart was winning the game, for the score was now 37 to 33 in Gunnell's favor. Heart took his seat in moody and angry silence. He knew that he had played brilliantly and that he was certainly leading Gunnell to sure victory. The coach did not give him a glance as he took his seat. Wi A< .GAIN as the ball was tossed up in center, Heart fouled his opponent, not seriously but enough to give him the ball. Find- ing the officials either lax or ig- norant or willing to favor a home team against a traveling champion ITH but three min- utes to go, the great Hillcrests now relieved from the nagging they had undergone and playing against a team with two substitutes, worked like lightning. Ball after ball zigzagged up the floor and rolled over into the hoop. Coach Crow- ley substituted freely in a vain at- (Continued on page 161)