Nothing but long experience will equip the trainer with a knowledge of protective bandaging, but the old-timer will see to it that his eleven takes the field well fortified at least as far as the important joints are concerned. A sprained ankle is not the terror that it used to be, and can now be corrected in a few days, when years ago it was apt to put a player out of the game for the season, and often just at a time when the coaches felt the need of teaching him a great deal of football in a short time. But it has been found to be wise to see to it that the chances of sustaining a sprain are reduced to a minimum before the game is begin and for this reason a bandage is generally used next to the skin, with another outside the stocking. There are various other appliances invented by trainers, and these may be built into the shoe itself. The use of liniments and massage will go far toward hastening the cure of a sprain, but the wise trainer is he who makes reasonably certain that he will have none to cure. I have always believed that protective bandaging was more effective than any amount of padding, and I think most trainers will support me in that belief.

Now when the squad appears for work in the fall the trainer will find that he has on hand men of all sizes and shapes and in all sorts of physical condition, and the problem is to bring this widely differing material to a uniform condition at a stated time. Herein will lie most of his difficulties with the coaches. In the old days there were two widely differing theories, one was to save the men as much as possible, giving them short scrimmages at as fast a pace as possible. This made the teaching slow, however, and also resulted in many injuries, for the men were bo fresh and eager to get into the fray that the bumping was harder than their "soft" condition could stand. The other theory was to work the men as hard as possible, giving them long scrimmages. This was a great favorite with most coaches, for they found that they had more time in which to teach. It developed, however, that the men became so utterly exhausted they eventually were filled with disgust for the game and could not keep their minds on the coaching. It is seldom, nowadays, that the players are overworked, for the faculty restrictions have become so severe that the coaches are hard put to it in many institutions to get the men out for even an hour at a time, the two government academies being the greatest sufferers in this respect. Moreover, the scrimmage of to-day is not as wearing physically as the old-time mass plays, and the work for many weeks is highly individual. It is not that team play is not begun as early as in the past, but that the formations are different, and the individual has a great deal more to learn if the plays are to go smoothly.

Most trainers, after consultation with the coach, insist on keeping the work very light for the first ten days, and giving the same amount to all the men, big or little, fat or lean. This seems to work well while the men are "soft," and it is not until later that the trainer begins to specialize in individuals, demanding of the coaches that they shorten the rest period for one man and lengthen it for another.

In these days of shift plays, both simple and complicated, of forward passes, and of frequent kicking, speed and agility are factors of the greatest moment. With the shifts in use, the players not only have to start quickly, but stop as quickly when they reach their shifted positions, and make a second start as swiftly as the first. This adds to the importance of practicing starts, and means, too, that the greatest care must be taken against overtraining, for while an undertrained team is apt to achieve pace and quick starting as the game progresses, an overtrained eleven becomes slower and slower. Thus it is that the trainer would prefer to see his men go into the big game lacking a deal of work, than enter so thoroughly overworked that they are mentally and physically "dead."

There are temperaments in a football team as varied as any in any other branch of endeavor. The trainer must therefore learn the mental attitude toward the game of all his men, so far as is humanly possible. There is the phlegmatic player, who is a tremendous worker, but too often without "fire." There is the high-strung man, who fidgets and wastes his mental and physical reserve when not in actual action. The former temperament needs keying up, the latter letting down. Trainer and coach may well work together in handling these men. The phlegmatic chap is more apt to respond to a little humor now and then than to gruelling coaching. His mental interest has to be geared up. The nervous man, on the contrary, needs to have his mind swept clear of all thought of football when not in action or studying signals or some other important matter in connection with the game.

There was a famous line man of recent years who was trying for centre. He already had a reputation in that position as a hard worker and a man who was to be found all over the field. But he took the work of preparation solemnly. There seemed to be no fun in it for him. He was being prepared to meet an equally famous opponent whom for convenience we shall call "Bill." One day the coach showed a little trick of centre play likely not only to be of great value to the team but of great annoyance to "Bill." The veteran listened carefully for several minutes, then a slow smile, the first of the season, lighted up his face. "Gee," said he, "won't Bill be sore!"

The nervous man must have his interest in other things aroused, and must realize that the coach who teaches him and the man who trains him, earnest as they appear to be, can find room in their lives, even at the height of the season, for things other than football. Of such a man the trainer should make a personal friend. The two should be able to get together from time to time to talk over something other than football, and the good trainer has been out in the world long enough to keep a youngster interested even when away from the gridiron topic.