Wabash scored again on the first series after the kickoff, lightening some of the suspense. But a Tiger named Simpson scored his second touchdown on a 71-yard run, and a two-point play cut the difference to 20-14 in the fourth quarter.
Tempers shortened as the end drew near. Hiatt grabbed a rival after a pile-up, and a player close by me yelled, "That's what we need, a good fight." But the fight did not materialize. The game ended with Wabash in control at mid-field.
I don't know what I expected to happen then, but nothing riotous did. Champagne flowed (briefly) in the Wabash dressing room. Dick Bowman gave me a bearhug. I went over to the DePauw dressing room to extend condolences to Tommy Mont. He was sitting on a bench, settled there as heavily as nut pudding on an unaccustomed stomach, and didn't seem eager to talk.
One of his assistants was outside and I made a few gestures of commiseration. He had the look of a man who has seen a cow break loose and kill the butcher. The series was tied, he said.
"Geezus, after all these years we gotta start over."
One of those chestless collegiate types who have acquired enough insouciance to cover up their insecurities was next to me as I walked away. I had seen him before, but couldn't place him.
He said, "Well, what do you expect from a school like this."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Didn't Mr. Aikman tell you? Didn't he tell you about when they tried to get football started here about 6,000 years ago? How the team was so bad they tried to sell their only football?"