out. All this time he studied the game, he listened to the suggestions of the coach, and he kept up his practice religiously throughout the spring and summer. When the men were called out for practice in his senior year he seemed to have got his batting eye.
"You'll make it, Mark," the coach told him encouragingly, "if you keep up that gait," and Mark did make it.
Would any one hold that this persistence, this refusal to accept defeat, this willingness to work and to accept criticism through one season and another without apparent hope of success did not have its effects upon the characters of these men, and does not have its effect upon all men who submit to it?
In addition to this refusal to accept defeat which becomes a part of the character of a real athlete, is the training in judgment and quick decision which a man gets. The athlete has little time to decide on his play in any game. He must gauge a ball, or determine upon a play instantly and his decision must be right or he will endanger or lose the game. He can not stand round looking for a hole in the line; he must be through it the instant he has discovered the weak spot. He must solve his opponents' play almost before it is made and must learn at the same time to assist his fellow players in the work which they are doing. He is trained in accuracy, in alertness of mind, in quick decisions. He can not give up when he is tired, he can not fall out when he is hurt, he must fight the game through to a finish with spirit and enthusiasm. Four years of this sort of training, I am convinced, leaves an ineffaceable stamp upon a young fellow's character and is seen in his business
