Again, if something is going wrong with the training table it is the trainer who first discovers the trouble and has the matter rectified. All that close watching off the field that the coach is too busy to undertake falls upon the shoulders of the trainer, and they are generally capable shoulders, whether broad or not.

The inspection and care of the outfits of the players is another duty performed by the trainer, who sees that the material is up to the mark, that pads are properly placed, that shoes are correctly cleated, that protectors of all sorts are doing the work for which they are worn. It was not so many years ago that one of the leading Eastern trainers discovered the reason for the battered condition of the squad after the daily practice after the coaches had been thoroughly baffled. He found that the leather helmets were entirely too hard, that shoulder pads were almost like iron, and that elbow protectors were also causing their share of bruises. He at once ordered a change in the material, discouraged the use of excessive protective armor, and soon brought his squad into shape again. As a result trainers everywhere began to see the light. Little by little they stripped their men of helmets and other protectors that were hard at least as boards, and found that their daily casualty list rapidly decreased. In consequence, there is really less "hard" armor worn to-day than has been the case in many years.

By the time the big game rolls around, indeed, most of the men have been brought into such sound physical condition that they voluntarily remove many of their pads and dispense with headgear as much as possible, especially in the line. Dispensing with heavy padding adds to speed, and now that the grinding mass plays are no longer in evidence I have known men to go through a big game with almost no padding at all. The noseguard, once so familiar on the field, and still the mainstay of the comic artist, is all but a thing of the past.

No man can play football at top notch unless his clothing is suitable and comfortable, and not one player in twenty-five knows when he is properly outfitted. Suits cannot be passed on from man to man nor the same pad fitted to several different candidates. Now this matter of comfort may be measured from the ground up. Shoes that are worn down too far on one side or with soles so thin that the cleats can be felt should never be worn by any player, and it is one of the duties of a capable trainer to see that the squad is comfortably shod and to complain when necessary to the manager, and even to fight the head coach when the supplies of this sort are not up to the mark. There is the question of wet weather also to be dealt with. Dry suite - from the skin out - must be in readiness between the halves, and long cleats at hand before the game, when the field is heavy. Games have been won and lost through details of this kind. The trainer is not always to blame, either, for he may reach a strange field and find that no preparations have been made for his team's comfort, and that the dressing quarters are all but impossible.

Pennsylvania and Cornell once played a game at Franklin Field in which ice and snow and sleet figured largely. At the end of the first half the Ithacans were in the lead by a single score. When they retired to the dressing room they found that no provision for heating it had been made, and they had but one outfit of football clothing with them. Their togs literally froze on their bodies, and when they came out for the second half they were all but encased in ice. The Quakers, on the other hand, had made a complete change. The team had been warmed, rubbed and fitted throughout with fresh, dry clothing. In this second half Pennsylvania scored twice and won the game. It would be difficult to convince a Cornellian that his team could not have won the game had it been able to get warm between the halves and to don dry clothing. While it would be too much to expect a Pennsylvania man to admit that it made the difference between victory and defeat, he is usually ready enough to grant that the conditions were unequal to a serious extent. The Cornell eleven should have had the foresight to take along fresh clothing, especially as years of experience had taught them what sort of weather to expect on Franklin Field on a Thanksgiving Day, and there should have been some provision for heating the room in which the team rested between the halves.

Especially in the matter of cleats will the wise trainer look out for his team, for if the eleven strikes a muddy field and cannot stand up, all the generalship in the world and the finest of individual play, will not serve to win the game. On a dry field the cleats should be short but numerous, so that there will be no excess pressure on any one part of the foot, while on a muddy gridiran three long cleats are generally sufficient.

In 1911 at West Point on the day of the Army-Yale game the field was little better than a lake. Yale should have been prepared with cleats of extra length, the more so as the Blue's entire attack consisted of the New Haven version of the Minnesota shift, while there should have been some means of drying off the hands of the backs from time to time. The preparations had not been made, however, and it was a wonder that the Yale men were not more severely beaten, as the cadets were equipped with regular mud cleats, and were supplied with rosin for the hands and forearms. A pocket had even been sewed into the jersey of Capt. Hyatt, the Army quarterback, and from this he was able to supply his men with rosin from time to time. I am convinced that had the game been played on a dry field the result would have been about the same, but as it was the Yale players were in a more uncomfortable situation than they should have been.

It sometimes happens, of course, that the needed supplies are not forthcoming from a management that may have had a lecture on extravagance read to it, but economy of this kind is of the poorest, and the trainer will have to make a constant fight for what he knows to be necessities,.