f the dressing-room with its
dismal howls after each of the five defeats in which I participated, I
am convinced that this is not what the world expects of strong men in
the hour of adversity.

"A stiff upper lip is what the world admires, and it will extend the
hand of sympathy and help to the man who can wear it. This should be
taught by football coaches to their men as a part of the lessons of life
that football generally is credited with teaching.

"Alex Moffat, than whom no more loyal and enthusiastic Princetonian ever
lived, to my mind, had the right idea. During one of those periods of
abysmal depths of despondency into which a losing team is plunged, he
rushed into the room, waving his arms over his head in his
characteristic manner, and in his high-pitched voice yelled:

"'Here, boys, get down to work; cut out this crying and get to cussing.'

"Doubtless much of this was due to the strain and the high tension to
which the men were subjected, but much of it was mere lack of effort at
restraint.

"Johnny Poe, as stout-hearted a man as ever has, or ever will stand on a
football field, once said to me:

"'This sob stuff gives me a pain in the neck but, like sea-sickness,
when the rest of the crowd start business, it's hard to keep out of it.
Besides, I don't suppose there's any use getting the reputation of
being exclusive and too stuck up to do what the rest of the gang do.'

"Of the defeats in which I participated, probably none was more
disheartening than the one suffered at the hands of the University of
Pennsylvania in 1892 at the Manheim cricket grounds near Philadelphia. I
shall always believe that the better Princeton team would have won with
comparative ease had it not been for the wind. In no game in which I
ever played was the wind so largely the deciding factor in the result.
The flags on the poles along the stands stood out stiffly as they
snapped in the half gale.

"Pennsylvania won the toss and elected to have the wind at their backs.
For forty-five minutes every effort made against the Red and Blue was
more than nullified by the blustering god AEolus. When Pennsylvania
kicked, it was the rule and not the exception for the ball to go sailing
for from one-half to three quarters the length of the field. On the
other hand, I can see in my mind's eye to-day, as clearly as I did
during the game, a punt by Sheppard Homans, the Princeton fullback,
which started over the battling lines into Pennsylv