In the course of the development of any first-class eleven there comes a time when the finest possible touches in team play must be put on. This ultimate polish is the result of instruction that has been absorbed throughout the season, coupled with the assimilation of ideas that are not given to the eleven perhaps until in the very last days of practice. A naturally intelligent eleven will take its polish at an earlier date than a plodding team, and the coaches constantly face the problem of deciding just how fast to give to the men the real finesse of team play. Some of this is in charge of the individual coaches, some in the sole charge of the head coach, as for instance the final advice as to how to meet and use to advantage certain peculiarities in the play of the biggest opponent of the year. In any intelligent system of coaching the idea of mutual help will have been instilled into the eleven from the beginning of the season, but its very finest stage may not be achieved until well toward the day of the big game.

The eleven must be fairly well advanced, for instance, before it can take up a study of the value of "talking" the game, but no high-class team has ever been silent in action, and to-day the talk that is heard is all for a definite purpose. It is not done with the idea of rattling the opponent, for the firstclass eleven is too busy to waste breath in any such process. Practically all the talk heard on the field to-day belongs to the game. It is not intended to annoy the foe, but to make sure that every man on the team is helping 139 every other man and saving him extra and purposeless steps. Of course it has long been customary for the kicker to call the direction and distance of the ball whenever he sends away a punt, but the downfield calling of the men behind to the men in front belongs to the newer school.

The kicker cries as the ball leaves his instep, "Left," "Right," or "Short," according to the direction of the leather and the distance it seems likely to travel. This avoids the necessity of the ends on their way down the field making more than one turn to judge the flight of the ball, and, indeed, there are ends who with the cry of the kicker in their ears, and the faces of the receiving backs by which to judge, do not need to turn at all, and so are saved valuable time and any distraction of the attention from the men they have to pass and the man they have to tackle. To a lesser extent this crying out of the kicker aids the other forwards, and adds to efficiency in following the ball. There is no reason, indeed, why the punter should not continue to call as long as there is a chance for his men to hear him, for if the ends are fairly sure of the direction of the leather when they meet the defending backs, and they know that it is well to one side, one of the ends can with a fair degree of safety turn inside of his man rather than out, and so reach the catcher in much quicker time.

In most systems of downfield work under the kicking game the ends are supposed to keep outside the man whose business it is to delay them, on the theory that should they be shut off from a tackle there is at least no chance for a long run back up the side line, as the defensive back will be compelled to come up the center of the field and into the arms of the other members of the kicking team. But there are times when a cut across would be most effective, and if talking - or rather shouting - the direction from behind can steer the end properly he will have a better opportunity to make a brilliant tackle.

This downfield talking under kicks should be passed on from man to man, for the guards at least, if not the tackles, will have an opportunity to look behind them and be in position to help the ends. Of course when the direction is sharp, the whole line swings considerably, and of course, too, there is a preliminary signal indicating the probable direction and length of the punt. All good things go astray sometimes in the heat of a hard game, however, and the fullback and other members of the team should have some safeguard against being led astray on a kick that has accidentally gone amiss. This is especially true when the kicker is forced to do his punting against the wind, when no amount of care can make certain in advance of the distance and direction of the leather. Again, if the team becomes accustomed to talking in the kicking game it can be taught to do the same when other plays are used.

The forward pass is another downfield play in which talking is of the utmost value. The cry of the passer at the moment he lets go of the ball makes it unnecessary for the eligible receivers to turn to look for the leather until that moment. It is the custom under many systems for the passer to yell "hike" or "ball" or something like that the instant the ball leaves his hand, and if the men are accustomed to it they will have a fair chance of getting the leather even when the ball is passed not to an individual but to a previously indicated spot. It is also very baffling to the defensive backs, for the instant one of the eligibles is seen to turn he is covered, but up to the moment his turn is made any one of these men has plenty of room in which to maneuver and to take the pass.

But it is in the case of the blocked kick well out in the field that the team that uses the "talking" system will be rewarded - sometimes with a touchdown. Let us suppose that a kick has been blocked and a member of the team that did the blocking snatches up the ball with a clear field before him. He knows that no matter how fast he may be he probably will be unable, encumbered as he is by the ball, to beat a member of the pursuing team to the goal line without a comfortable start and without fair covering from behind. Now the first impulse is to turn to see how many of his own men are close behind him, and which of the enemy is in the van of the pursuit. It is the most natural impulse in the world, for the man with the ball under these conditions feels that he has a chance that may, and in most cases never will, come to him again in his lifetime. He is apt to feel that he will risk a look over his shoulder, even if he has been told again and again under no circumstances to do so. If he does turn around he only gives time to his pursuers and greatly lessens thereby the chance for a successful trip to his opponent's goal line.