Read Online The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pat Conroy
Ads: Link
office, I saluted him sharply, snapped my heels together in a satisfying, phony click, and fixed my expression in a fierce cadet’s scowl that I hoped would pass for high seriousness. In my full dress, I looked like one of Napoleon s grenadiers, even though I felt like the king of the penguins.
The General waved me into my seat with a magisterial sweep of his long slender arm. Then he studied me at his leisure. He settled back into his chair behind his vast mahogany desk without his eyes ever leaving mine. From the intensity of his gaze, it was apparent that he was accustomed to staring other men into submission. He was an athlete of the stare; he enjoyed the sport. I did not and I diverted my eyes about the room. There was a cold symmetry to General Durrell’s office, a rigorous attention to detail that was both fastidious and obsessive.
“Do you think we can go all the way this year, Mr. McLean?” the General said, his soft, lethargic voice brushed by the sweet cadences and slurred elisions of the upcountry.
“All the way, sir?” I asked.
“Yes, I want to know if we can go all the way, if we can grab the brass ring.”
“All the way to what, sir? I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”
“That’s perfectly obvious, Mr. McLean,” he said, smiling and folding his hands neatly on his desk like a schoolboy. “I want to know if our basketball team can go all the way and win the Southern Conference championship.”
“I hope so, sir. I think we’ll have a pretty good team, sir,” I answered, relieved that the subject was basketball.
“A pretty good team is not good enough and neither is your answer. I suggest that you answer, ‘We’ll have a great team, sir, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship.’ ”
“We’ll have a great team, sir, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship,” I replied with the required brio, although I could think of a hundred reasons why we wouldn’t win that championship.
“Splendid! Splendid!” he cried out. “It’s all in the mind, Mr. McLean. The mind is an intricate mechanism that can be run on the fuels of both victory and defeatism. I saw it when I led troops into battle. I never lost a single battle in my career as a field commander, because the word ‘retreat’ was not a part of my vocabulary. I didn’t know what it meant and neither did my men. The exact same thing applies to athletics. So do you think we can go all the way this year?”
“There’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship, sir,” I repeated, feeling even more idiotic.
“That’s the spirit, Mr. McLean. You said it with even more enthusiasm the second time. Keep repeating it over and over again, and it will become an article of faith to you and your teammates. I want that kind of enthusiasm to infect the Corps this year and every year. I despise negativism, don’t you, Mr. McLean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yet you are rather well known on campus for your negative attitude, Mr. McLean. If you despise negativism as you just professed to do, what do you think inspired this reputation?”
“I have a reputation for being a little sarcastic, General. I didn’t know I had a reputation for being negative.”
“Sarcasm might be even more insidious and dangerous than negativism. Now I would like to get to the point of your visit with me this afternoon. I want you to tell me what you know about honor, Mr. McLean. I want you to define honor in your own terms. I want to ascertain if our concepts of honor are significantly different.”
“May I ask you why, sir?” I asked.
“You may not ask anything, Mr. McLean,” the General said pleasantly. “You may simply define honor for me.”
“I’m not sure I can define it in my own words, General.”
“And yet you expect to speak to the freshmen for an hour next Wednesday about the honor system.”
“Sir, I can define honor as the dictionary defines it or
The General waved me into my seat with a magisterial sweep of his long slender arm. Then he studied me at his leisure. He settled back into his chair behind his vast mahogany desk without his eyes ever leaving mine. From the intensity of his gaze, it was apparent that he was accustomed to staring other men into submission. He was an athlete of the stare; he enjoyed the sport. I did not and I diverted my eyes about the room. There was a cold symmetry to General Durrell’s office, a rigorous attention to detail that was both fastidious and obsessive.
“Do you think we can go all the way this year, Mr. McLean?” the General said, his soft, lethargic voice brushed by the sweet cadences and slurred elisions of the upcountry.
“All the way, sir?” I asked.
“Yes, I want to know if we can go all the way, if we can grab the brass ring.”
“All the way to what, sir? I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”
“That’s perfectly obvious, Mr. McLean,” he said, smiling and folding his hands neatly on his desk like a schoolboy. “I want to know if our basketball team can go all the way and win the Southern Conference championship.”
“I hope so, sir. I think we’ll have a pretty good team, sir,” I answered, relieved that the subject was basketball.
“A pretty good team is not good enough and neither is your answer. I suggest that you answer, ‘We’ll have a great team, sir, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship.’ ”
“We’ll have a great team, sir, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship,” I replied with the required brio, although I could think of a hundred reasons why we wouldn’t win that championship.
“Splendid! Splendid!” he cried out. “It’s all in the mind, Mr. McLean. The mind is an intricate mechanism that can be run on the fuels of both victory and defeatism. I saw it when I led troops into battle. I never lost a single battle in my career as a field commander, because the word ‘retreat’ was not a part of my vocabulary. I didn’t know what it meant and neither did my men. The exact same thing applies to athletics. So do you think we can go all the way this year?”
“There’s no reason why we shouldn’t win the national championship, sir,” I repeated, feeling even more idiotic.
“That’s the spirit, Mr. McLean. You said it with even more enthusiasm the second time. Keep repeating it over and over again, and it will become an article of faith to you and your teammates. I want that kind of enthusiasm to infect the Corps this year and every year. I despise negativism, don’t you, Mr. McLean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yet you are rather well known on campus for your negative attitude, Mr. McLean. If you despise negativism as you just professed to do, what do you think inspired this reputation?”
“I have a reputation for being a little sarcastic, General. I didn’t know I had a reputation for being negative.”
“Sarcasm might be even more insidious and dangerous than negativism. Now I would like to get to the point of your visit with me this afternoon. I want you to tell me what you know about honor, Mr. McLean. I want you to define honor in your own terms. I want to ascertain if our concepts of honor are significantly different.”
“May I ask you why, sir?” I asked.
“You may not ask anything, Mr. McLean,” the General said pleasantly. “You may simply define honor for me.”
“I’m not sure I can define it in my own words, General.”
“And yet you expect to speak to the freshmen for an hour next Wednesday about the honor system.”
“Sir, I can define honor as the dictionary defines it or
Similar Books
