El joven atleta de Madera se distrajo con las burlas del árbitro y se mostró más que un poco sorprendido cuando el oficial se enfrascó en una discusión con él en pleno partido. ¿Dónde quedaba la imparcialidad que todo equipo deportivo tenía derecho a esperar, sin importar si jugaba en la pista de su propia ciudad o en la de cualquier otra?
¡Frank Barnett estaba furioso! Sabía cómo defender la portería y no necesitaba que nadie de Vallejo le dijera cómo jugar roller polo. Había liderado al equipo de Madera en perfeccionar el deporte hasta convertirlo en un arte en la pista de patinaje de la calle D de la ciudad, y en 1908, los muchachos estaban teniendo un año excepcional. Para finales de primavera, Madera tenía el único equipo invicto en la liga. Quizás por eso los muchachos locales estaban recibiendo un trato tan brutal por parte de los árbitros y los fanáticos por igual en esta gira de visitantes.
It was Saturday morning, April 27, when the Madera team boarded the train at the Southern Pacific depot and headed in high spirits for the Bay Area. They were counting on Frank Barnett to help them keep the team’s record unblemished by continuing to display his prowess at defending the goal. It was with an air of confidence that the Madera boys entered the Vallejo rink to take on the local team twice that weekend — once on Saturday evening and again on Sunday. As things turned out, only the first game was played.
When Barnett and his comrades left the dressing room, they were treated to a cacophony of hoots and jeers; something was definitely wrong. The audience had blood in its eyes, and the game had not even begun. As the players circled the rink, taking their warm-ups, the absence of a railing separating them from the fans became an obvious hazard. Several of the Vallejo patrons made menacing gestures in an attempt to unnerve the visitors. The situation had all of the portents of a very interesting evening.
Finally, the game began, and Barnett worked his usual magic as goal tender. The Vallejo team did not score during the first quarter. Madera, on the other hand, had leaped on the board with a sizzling shot by John Augustine that sailed right into the Vallejo net. The fans roared their disapproval, and things turned ugly.
During the second quarter, there were no additional scores, but plenty of action. As the Madera Mercury reported, “It looked at one time as if the savages who sat in the audience would be satisfied with nothing less than the blood of the visitors to atone for the poor showing of the Vallejo team.”
The reporter went on to note that, “A hand or foot would be thrust out, and the Madera players would then be punched or tripped.” Any Madera player who strayed too close to the edge of the rink was fair game. Augustine was to report later that he had received “some rough treatment playing football and baseball, but never in his experience had he been so harshly dealt with by the spectators.”
During the third quarter, the Vallejo team evened up the score with the assistance of the referee. Charging that Barnett was playing a bit too aggressively, the official proceeded to berate him without calling a time out. Barnett, who was not one to be chastised publicly, jumped to his own defense, whereupon a Vallejo player, taking advantage of the untended goal, made an easy score. Now the tally stood one to one, much to the consternation of the Madera team.
Then, in the last quarter, Virgil Gordon, although receiving “extremely bad treatment,” made an easy score. Prior to this game-winning shot, he had been struck by a spectator and knocked to the ground. The Vallejo crowd was beside itself. Hands and feet were thrust out, punching and tripping the Madera players. It was pure bedlam — so much so that some of the young men from Madera were happy to just leave the rink with their lives.
The conclusion of the game did not end the vituperation to which the Madera players were subjected. A local newspaper reporter and two of his cronies followed them to the dressing room where the newsman proceeded to give the Madera team a tongue lashing and promised Frank Barnett, for whom he seemed to have an especially high level of animosity, that a scathing article would be forthcoming about his unsportsmanlike conduct on the court. Barnett could not believe his ears!
The Madera player had had enough. He stepped up to challenge the reporter. While Barnett protested that the Madera team had played fair and that “none of their other opponents had ever found fault with their playing,” he was stopped dead in his tracks. Right in the middle of Barnett’s spirited defense, both of the reporter’s companions drew pistols and very persuasively encouraged him to resume his place at his locker.
A quiet settled over the locker room; the invaders left, and the Madera team packed up to head for home. No matter that the Vallejo manager, a man by the name of Brouillet, came down to apologize; the Maderans simply had no heart for Sunday’s contest. They brought their single victory back to their hometown where it would be appreciated.
The Madera roller polo team continued its winning ways and won the state championship in 1908. No doubt, there were other tense times during the remainder of the season, but surely none that would rival that sojourn to Vallejo. When the championship banner was displayed in the Madera rink, no one doubted that it was well earned. Madera could properly be proud of both the skill and restraint of its team.