“The trouble with our athletics is that we are in a big city,” he said, “with lots of interesting things to take up our time outside of school. Then we’re mostly too young to be very serious about anything. In the big schools like Hillbury the fellows are older; and in the boarding-schools they haven’t any outside attractions nor any liberty, and there’s really nothing else to do but play something.”
“You always have men on the college teams,” remarked Roger.
“Oh, they do well in college, but they’re more mature then. Here there’s always a whole lot of fooling going on such as you saw this afternoon. You can’t change a fellow like Wilmot. He’s an awfully nice chap, but he’s never serious, and he spoils the atmosphere for the hard, determined kind of work that makes good teams.”
“Harrison seems serious enough,” said Hardie. “I should think he’d make a mighty good captain.”
“That’s right! He’s about the best fellow we’ve got. That’s the reason I had hopes of the football, but it looks now as if it was going in the same old way. If we could only win in football, we could go to work with more courage on the crew.”
“We seem to do better with rowing than anything else. There’s no fooling there, I can tell you. From the time you lift out the boat until you put her away on the supports there isn’t a minute wasted.”
“I should think it would be monotonous, just pulling an oar with the same motion all the time. Of course the race is exciting, but the training must be terribly tiresome.”
“That shows you’ve never tried it,” answered Talbot, laughing. “The race is hard and disagreeable because you try to pull yourself completely out, but the practice is fun all the time. We have good coaching, and every day we try to get into the swing a little better, and overcome some one of our faults. Then the movement of the boat is fine. You can’t imagine what a pleasure it is to feel it going under you right—to know that there is no check between strokes, that everybody is getting away quick and sharp, and pulling just as he ought to.”
“I don’t understand,” returned Roger, “but I’d like to try it.”
“You must come out. You have the right build for rowing.”
Talbot glanced out at the window and waved his hand at Tracy, who was crossing the yard to the dormitory. “We’re a long way from that yet,” he went on. “We might possibly beat Newbury and Trowbridge in rowing, but we can’t get the cup without football.”