The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1939-03-25
The Coach
BY BEN AMES
q Associated Newspapers.
WNU Service.


fectly fatuous coach coming along
to bawl one out in front of the team
and make a general nuisance of
himself nosing into affairs that were
none of his business! Just as if
one wasn't likely to funk an exam.
Or stay out late few nights. Life,
he decided, had deteriorated to a
pretty mess when a fellow couldn't
even see his girl and go to a few
shows without getting posted. Most
likely that prosey old coach had
seen him with Diana and was plain
jealous.
Diana was always gay, he reflect
ed; he couldn't recall ever having
seen her cross or impatient with
him, or with any one for that mat
ter. She made all her classes regu-
larly and kept fairly decent aver
age, although the times she was
called down in class for unprepared-
ness was noticeable. But did she
answer back? Not so you'd notice
it. Di wasn't the crabby sort. If
any one wished to think harshly of
her they were welcome, for all she
cared! Of course, Di wasn't any,
thing like Betty. Betty was poor
and had no sport car or sporty
clothes to go with it, and Betty not
only won wonderful marks and hon
ors, but she had made the Phi Mu
and was being urged to join the
Epsilons as we'll, besides being a
guard on the basketball team and
a runnerup for the tennis champion
ship of the school. And the greatest
difficulty with Betty was that she
expected too much of fellow. Not
the sort of things Di expected; not
candy and movies and dances and
dinners. Rather, Betty expected
him to go out and win his letter
the first year by spectacular play;
or win such high marks that he
got some sort of medal.
And so he smiled warmly upon Di
and reluctantly admitted that he
had to stay in and bone up on Eng
fish, adding that the fool coach
threatened to remove him from the
team if he got another seventy!
why, you poor lamb, you'll" ex-
claimed Di in her high, shrill voice.
Come over to my fiat and have a
bite to eat and let's talk it over"
But Betty. Gee, Betty was diff
ferent. Betty wouldn't let you have
a sandwich and cake and ginger ale
plus in the afternoon, not much!
She'd dig out few oranges and
some other fruit and advise adher-
ence to diet rules as per the coach.
And Betty wasn't wise to herself
the way Di was. Betty was I'M
ashamed of the busting of fine gold
en- freckles across the bridge of her
small nose; she called them tennis
croix de queries. And she never
used powder or rouge or any other
makeup.
Somehow most of Betty was un-
comfortable, he decided. For Di
did not play tennis; it was messy!
She hated golf; one had to practice
too much. Riding horseback was
too hard. And swimming-ugh!
Eels and fish and bugs. So Di did
none of them-much too messy.
And Roger basked in the comfort
able warmth of her smile without
regretting too much his break with
Betty.
At seven he started home toward
the boarding house where the crew
lived, his thoughts happy and his
mind pleasantly eXhilarated by the
plus ginger ale, and at Elm and
Center streets an orange car
whizzed out from the murk of the
avenue where Di lived and he felt a
sharp pain and then started falling
unreasonable distances through
space. Di had run over him going
at fifty-mile speed-it was too much
trouble to watch out for every jay
walking pedestrian.
He awoke in the college infirmary
and Betty sat beside him holding
his hand tightly with one hand and
holding a Latin grammar and
grinding out passages of Virgil
from book propped on a chair in
front of her. He was conscious of
a great weight lifted from his heart
and mind and vaguely recalled hav-
ing talked great deal-wondered
if he had been delirious. After a
while he thought of Diana and he
wondered why he wasn't disappoint-
ed not to care any more for her,
and then it struck him as ludicrous
that he should know that he didn't
care for her without arriving at the
decision through the usual devious
method of thinking Betty saw that
his eyelids were fluttering; he
couldn't fake unconsciousness any
more, SO he opened his eyes and
asked what happened.
"a girl ran you down over on
Center street-only a slight scalp
wound, Rog; you can get right after
your English tomorrow. And it
may save your life-this week in
bed"
"You darned little COACH" he
muttered, bringing her hand up to
his lips. "All you do is worry about
me and my grade" and his eyes
told her what he couldn't say until
| ha had uOn tho riohf IN och bar