"You got to know how to run," he said. "A little thing like not running in a perfectly straight line can cost you. Maybe you just toe out an inch or so on each stride but you add that up for a hundred yards and it makes maybe a yard or two. And you must know how to breathe."
He looked at West and went "puh hoo!"
West looked back at him blankly.
"Puh hoo!" said Matson again, blowing his breath out in an explosive burst on the PUH and sucking it back as quickly on the hoo! "Puh hoo! That's how you got to breathe when you're getting near the end of the wind sprints. You usually run all the way on one breath. You get out of oxygen and the air gets cold. Then when you go puh hoo you get rid of the old air and get in some fresh air and it gives you a sort of jet takeoff again. You try it, Stan."
West went "puh hoo" experimentally, then tried again louder. "No one ever told me how to run," he said gratefully. "I'll try that."
West wandered out again, still going "puh hoo" like a steam locomotive, and Matson stretched out on the cot. He laid the pipe down carefully on the floor and closed his eyes, then opened them again and smiled apologetically.
"Man gets awful tired on these two-a-day workouts," he said. "I usually sleep after lunch. If you don't mind, I think I'll nap a while and we can resume our discussion later."
Matson came to the Cardinals in 1952, then spent the 1953 season at Fort Ord. He played service football for two years and returned to the Cardinals to play a few games in 1954. He is one of the great runners in the game today and ranked second to the Chicago Bears' Rick Casares in ground-gaining in 1956. He runs with a beautiful, gliding motion which carries him so smoothly that he does not give the impression of great speed. He might be even faster, but, unlike many halfbacks, he wears a full suit of heavy pads to protect himself from the savage beating a back takes from the giant men in professional football.
PATTERNS FOR PASSERS