Between the years of ninety-two and a hundred and two, however, we shall be the ribald, useless, drunken, outcast person we have always wished to be. We shall have a long white beard and long white hair; we shall not walk at all, but recline in a wheel chair and bellow for alcoholic beverages; in the winter we shall sit before the fire with our feet in a bucket of hot water, a decanter of corn whiskey near at hand, and write ribald songs against organized society. . . We look forward to a disreputable, vigorous, unhonoured, and disorderly old age.
Through sports a coach can offer a boy a secret way to sneak up on the mystery that is manhood.