When journalists were wordsmiths

I just found an old clipping from the Kenosha News. It's not dated, but based on context clues I can date it somewhere between 1932 and 1934. The article is about a football game between Kenosha High School and Madison East. So, it's a small town newspaper article about high school football. But it's written like a novel! It's absolutely nothing like sportswriting in your average newspaper today. Here are some excerpts:

Surging back with that old do-or-die spirit typical of great Kenosha High school football elevens of the past, the Redmen, trailing 3 to 0 only less than two minutes before the half ended, opened with an explosion of aerial bombs and a long run to score a touchdown on an 80 yard sweep accomplished on four plays in a minute and fifty-two seconds as they throttled a viscious fighting Madison East aggregation, Big Eight championship favorites, 6 to 3 Saturday while dazzling in the "under dog" role in a brilliant, bruising battle of spectacular offensive fireworks and iron-clad defensive tactics.

Damn! Take a breath. Anyway, here's my favorite part:

The story-book finish of Saturday's thriller makes Frank Merriwell's fictionized adventures as dull as a 16-year-old kid in the third grade at a country school.

Ha! BURN!

Eddie Hartnek, "will o' the wisp" halfback, returns the kick-off 10 yards. Joe Gogola, like a crafty general sending his soldiers into the "big push," wafts a forward pass to Brianne's Grandpa [yay grandpa!], a tricky kid, and he gains 15 yards. Eddie Hartnek then rocks the foundation of the East team with another aerial blast which that "hawk" Grandpa grabs while walled by two Purgold enemies for another 15 yards.

What will happen? WHAT WILL HAPPEN?

Seconds are left in the half, and the goal line is 40 yards away. So what. So Gogola plays his ace card. He calls the signal for "Red" Horne, his offensive dynamo, to get going. "Red" doesn't disappoint. He goes big. This elusive, hip-shaking, redhead cuts off tackle, streaks for the sidelines and does a hula-hula through a charging army of Madison East players to cross the enemy goal line.

Wooooo! That elusive, hip-shaking redhead does a hula-hula, eh? I wonder if he caught any shit for that from his buddies. But how did the fans react to all of this? I must know.

Horne's dazzling run puts the stands in a wild, uproarious scene. This was something. Red players go somersaulting with their cleats in the turf. East's players and rooters are mute, dejected, refusing to believe their eyes. Only in fiction are games won like that. Then comes the gun for the half. The Reds troop off the field jubilantly and East's husky horde stumbles disconsolately to the dressing rooms.

The article is actually much longer than this. I love it. I'd also love to see some writer try throwing in a "disconsolately" in a high school sports article today. I can just see half of the readership staring blankly at the page.