ke up the
football practice for the day: "_Ketchum_ is my name."

Falling on the ball is one of the fundamentals in football. It is the
ground work that every player must learn. Frank Hinkey, that great Yale
Captain and player, was an artist in performing this fundamental.
Playing so wonderfully well the end-rush position, his alertness in
falling on the ball often meant much distance for Yale. He had wonderful
judgment in deciding whether to fall on the ball or pick it up.

One of the most important things in football is knowing how to tackle
properly. Some men take to it naturally and others only learn after
hard, strenuous practice.

In the old days men were taught to tackle by what is known as "live
tackling." I recall especially that earnest coach, Johnny Poe, whose
main object in football coaching was to see that the men tackled hard
and sure.

Poe, without any padding on at all, would let the men dive into him
running at full speed, and the men would throw him in a way that seemed
as though it would maim him for life. Some of the men weighed a hundred
pounds more than he did, but he would get up and, with a smile, say:

"Come on men, hit me harder; knock me out next time."

After the first two weeks of the season, Johnny Poe was a complete mass
of black and blue marks; and yet how wonderful and how self sacrificing
he was in his eagerness to make the Princeton players good tacklers.

But there are few men like Johnny Poe, who are willing to sacrifice
their own bodies for the instruction of others; and the next best
method, and one which does not injure the players so much, is tackling
the "dummy."

As we look at this picture of Howard Henry of Princeton tackling the
"dummy," we all remember when we were back in the game trying our very
best to put our shoulder into our opponent's knees and "hit him hard,
throw him, and hold him." Henry always got his man.

But the thrill of the game is not in tackling the dummy. The joy comes
in a game, when a man is coming through the line, or making a long run,
and you throw yourself at his knees, and get your tackle; then up and
ready for another.

I recall an experience I had at Princeton one year. When I went to
the Club House to get my uniform, which I wanted to wear in coaching, I
asked Keene Fitzpatrick, the Trainer, where my suit was. He said:

[Illustration: HIT YOUR MAN LOW]

"It's hanging outside."

I went outside of the dressing room but could see no