“All right, take yesterday. You made that touchdown because Jake looked after you all season and Johnny Cade taught you how to play and I gave you the signals and the whole team did its part and four or five of us helped you along. So, you see, if you count in Jimmy, the rubber, and a couple of the managers, all of whom did their bit, Bert, quite a few of us had a hand in your stunt. But the point is that you were the big cheese. If you hadn’t been good, mighty good, all our stuff wouldn’t have amounted to anything at all. Sort of like firing a rifle, old chap. I aimed and pulled the trigger. Jim and Tyron and Wick and the others were the cap and the powder. Without us there wouldn’t have been any explosion and you’d still be in the cartridge. But the cap and the powder did their parts and the bullet shot out. You were the bullet, Bert, and the bullet’s what does the execution and brings down the game!” “Carrying out your simile,” laughed Bert, “it’s the fellow who aims and shoots who gets the credit, isn’t it?” “Similes,” replied Ted, “are like practical jokes. They can be carried too far. It’s this way about individual stunts on the football field. Every fellow deserves a certain amount of credit for what the one member of the team perfects, just how much depending on how close to the play he was. That’s understood. But they don’t all take off their head guards and bow when the stand cheers the hero.” “But why don’t they? They have a right to.” “Because--well, I suppose it’s because they recognize the fact that, no matter how much they helped, individually and collectively, it was Mr. Hero who brought home the bacon. No fellow, Bert, can pull off a big stunt in a football game unaided, but, oh, boy, he can sure do himself proud if he makes good use of what help he gets and knows what to do when the interference peters out! Some backs don’t know how to use their interference, Bert. You’ll see everything set for a big act, and then the runner takes it into his head to break away from interference, or he gets ahead of it or drops too far behind it, and, bingo, some one slips in and nabs him! And there are lots of good backs who can deliver the goods just as long as they can keep their heads down and butt and push and fight. Let them get free, though, with a safety man ahead and a few fellows coming along behind and they don’t know where they’re at. And only one back in ten ever turns out to be a good broken-field runner, Bert. When he does he’s usually a wonder. Either a fellow is poor at it or he’s mighty good. So, after you give every fellow on the team his rightful share of credit, the fellow who pulls off the fine long run deserves all the cheering he gets. And that’s why you can rest easy about the other chaps laughing in their sleeves at you, Bert. They just aren’t doing it!”