dents. Later, we
learned that he danced several times. The next morning an X-ray clearly
showed a complete fracture of the tibia.

"How it was possible for a man, with a broken leg, to walk around and
dance, as he did, is more than I can fathom."

What is there in a man's make-up that leads him to conceal from the
trainer an injury that he receives in a game; that makes him stay in the
field of play? Why is it that he disregards himself, and goes on in the
game, suffering physical as well as mental tortures, plucky though
handicapped? The playing of such men is extended far beyond the point of
their usefulness. Yes, even into the danger zone. Such men give
everything they have in them while it lasts. It is not intelligent
football, however, and what might be called bravery is foolishness after
all. It is an unwritten law in football that a fresh substitute is far
superior to a crippled star. The keen desire to remain in the game is so
firmly fixed in his mind that he is willing to sacrifice himself, and at
the same time by concealing his injury from the trainer and coaches he,
unconsciously, is sacrificing his team; his power is gone.

One of the greatest exhibitions of grit ever seen in a football game was
given by Harry Watson of Williams in a game at Newton Center between
Williams and Dartmouth. He was knocked out about eight times but
absolutely refused to leave the field.

Another was furnished by W. H. Lewis, the Amherst captain and center
rush, against Williams in his last game at Amherst--the score was 0-0 on
a wet field. Williams was a big favorite but Lewis played a wonderful
game, and was all over the field on the defense. When the game was over
he was carried off, but refused to leave the field until the final
whistle.

One of the most thrilling stories of a man who was game, though
handicapped, is told by Morris Ely, quarterback for Yale, 1898.

"My most vivid recollection of the Harvard-Yale game of 1898 is that
Harvard won by the largest score Yale had ever been beaten by up to that
time, 17 to 0. Next, that the game seemed unusually long. I believe I
proved a good exponent of the theory of being in good condition. I
started the game at 135 pounds, in the best physical condition I have
ever enjoyed, and while I managed to accumulate two broken ribs, a
broken collar-bone and a sprained shoulder, I was discharged by the
doctor in less than three weeks as good as ever.

"I received the broken ribs in