ON Monday work for the Track Team entrants was no different than usual. Perry, one of a bunch of seven or eight sprinters, practiced starts, did two fifty-yard dashes and finally swung through the two hundred and twenty. There were no trails, nor were any of the number allowed to go faster than a "hustle," which was Skeet's term for a pace that was something like a glorified jog. Lanny, who was now giving three afternoons each week to track work, spent much of his time coaching the rest, and to him Perry owed his first real understanding of what might be called the philosophy of the crouching start. Lanny, watching Perry and two others at the mark, stopped proceedings.
"Just a minute, you fellows," he said. "Now, look here. You, Hull, and you, Soper, have got your holes placed wrong. Your front hole, Hull,
is too far from the mark for you. You're losing
190
