The substitute center sits on the sidelines,
Watches the game with grave intent,
Seeing the coach fidgit and give a sign
To the quarterback, over the center, bent,
Dreaming he is snapping the ball,
throwing his block and seeing men fall.

Dreaming, that's all, for well he knew
That the regular center was of tough hew,
A rough, ready boy who would play whoe game,
And leave the "sub" little chance for his fame,
There is the snap of the ball, a sickening thud,
As fullback and center meet head-on in mud.

The fullback gets up-the center stays down,
The coach calls to the sub, on his forehead a frown,
"Get into the line, be ready to die,
For the honor of old Mudville High."
              And he did!