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 of those fellows on the First Team. I see that by watching them. More than half the time they do things without knowing why. One of those chaps there"—Loring nodded again toward the bookcase—"says that he doesn't want the men he is coaching to know too much football; that he'd rather teach each one only what he can use in playing his position. He may be right, but I don't think so. I don't believe a thorough knowledge of the game is going to hurt any player. Of course the best way to get that knowledge is by experience, by starting as a little chap and learning as you go along; but lots of fellows never learn more than enough to hold down their positions by the skin of their teeth. If I was a coach I'd make my men read and study one of those books until they really knew what it was all about!"

"Gee, that's an idea," said Clif.

Loring laughed. "I can tell by the way you say that that you think I'm a perfect nut, Bingham. It does sound cheeky for a chap who can't take a step without being held up to tell a real player—"

"I wasn't thinking anything of the sort," protested Clif warmly. "I think it's rather wonderful you're so—so clever about it. I should think not being able to play would sort of—sort of sour you on football. I say, why don't you coach one of the class teams? Couldn't you do it?"

"From a wheel chair? I'm afraid not. Anyhow, I dare say my knowledge of football isn't more than half practical. It's just 'book learning,' Bingham. I get a