There are not many football enthusiasts who analyze the factors that bring victory. Many of us do not appreciate the importance attached to the trainer, or realize the great part that he plays, until we are out of college. We know that the men who bore the brunt of the battle have received their full share of glory—the players and coaches.

But there arises in the midst of our athletic world men who trained, men who safeguarded the players. Trainers have been associated with football since the early eighties, and a careful trainer's eye should ever be on the lookout wherever football is played. Players, coaches and trainers go hand in hand in football.

Every one of these men that I have known has had a strong personality. Each one, however, differed somewhat from the others. There is a great affection on the part of the players for the man who cares for their athletic welfare. These men are often more than mere trainers. Their personalities have carried them farther than the dressing room. Their interest in the boys has continued after they left college. Their influence has been a lasting one, morally, as well as physically.

On account of their association, the trainers keep pace with the men about them; not limiting their interest to athletics. They are always found entertaining at the athletic banquets, and their personalities count for much on the campus. They are all but boys grown up, with well known athletic records behind them. In the hospital, or in the quietness of a college room, or on trips, the trainer is a friend and adviser.

Go and talk to the trainer of the football team if you want to get an unbiased opinion of the team's work or of the value of the individual coaches. Some of our trainers know much about the game of football—the technical side—and their advice is valuable.

Every trainer longs to handle good material, but more power to the trainer who goes ahead with what he's got and makes the best out of it without a murmur. In our recollections we know of teams that were reported to be going stale—"over-trained"—"a team of cripples"—who slumped—could not stand the test—were easily winded—could not endure.

They were nightmares to the trainer. Soon you read in the daily press indications that a change of trainer is about to take place in such a college.

Then we turn to another page of our recollections where we read:

"The team is fit to play the game of their lives." "Only eleven men were used in to-day's game." "Great tribute to the trainer." "Men could have played all day"—"no time taken out"—"not a man injured"—"pink of condition." Usually all this spells victory.