More men have been spoiled by praise than by adverse criticism, and the professional coach knows this very well.
It is a pretty level-headed youth who can stand open praise without thinking himself the “only one.”
Sometimes it pays to praise a man, but it is best to know your man before you venture to praise him. Be sure it will do him more good than silence, or keep your mouth shut.
In rare instances praise will serve to spur a man on to do still better. Far oftener it will cause him to think he is good enough already and that the other fellows should hustle to keep in his class.
The fellow who manages or coaches a ball-team must know this, and he must be exceedingly careful with his praise.
In the cage the sweating crowd of candidates accepted this criticism without a word, for it would not do to “talk back.” When one was called down for something he did, if he was a good man, he shut his teeth and made an extra attempt to do it well the next time. If he was sulky and had a bad temper, he might tell himself he did not care a rap, and then he would be careless and do worse the next time. In that case, the chances were he would be quietly informed that it would be a waste of time for him to practise further, and that the room he occupied in the cage was needed for others.
Of course, there were men, and plenty of them, who worked like slaves to improve, yet failed to make the necessary[necessary] progress, and who were dropped one after another for that reason.
But no man of this class, willing and determined, was dropped till the coaches were perfectly satisfied that there was no possible chance of making good material out of him.
The turnout this year had been most unsatisfactory, barely more than half the usual number of candidates coming to the cage each day.
This happened despite all efforts to get out the usual large squad. It seemed very remarkable, but men came to attribute it to the absence of Merriwell, which, they said, accounted for the apathetic interest taken in baseball.