On Nov. 5, 1896, William Jennings Bryan sent a telegram to president elect William McKinley.

The 33-word note concluded with “… we have submitted the issue to the American people and their will is law.”

Translation: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I lost.”

It only took more than a century and 28 U.S. presidential elections for a losing candidate to formally concede.

But as politics and sports have taught us, it is not easy to quit a competition.

We are told at an early age that “a quitter never wins and a winner never quits.” (An exception is Bill Belichick, who resigned the day he was named the New York Jets coach, and then went on to win six Super Bowls with the New England Patriots.)

While heading toward bankruptcy, MC Hammer still insisted on being “2 Legit 2 Quit.”

In sports, there are few tap-out options. It is why the two NFL conference championship games ended with the winners taking a knee in victory formation while the losing teams were left to grouse: Can we just call it already?

It is why the Cal Poly basketball team, down double digits to Hawaii on Saturday, kept fouling … and fouling … and fouling. The Mustangs committed 11 fouls — mostly intentionally — in the final 3 minutes, 26 seconds.

In the second half, the Rainbow Warriors attempted 37 free throws. Of the ’Bows’ final 25 points, 23 came from the line. The Mustangs adhered to the Yogi-inspired strategy that “it ain’t over ’til it’s over.” But, really, it was over long before the final horn sounded.

The never-quit belief goes back to the playground. In jan ken po, after a “rock” bested a “scissor,” the scissor thrower usually declared, “two out of three.” And then “three out of five,” and so forth.

Maybe it’s baseball’s fault. As the late, great baseball scribe Ferd Borsch often said, pro baseball is a sport in which a game could theoretically go on forever. Every ninth inning is a one-possession game. There are no ties in baseball, not even on bang-bang plays at first base. (A tie always goes to the runner.) So without a mercy rule, why concede no matter the size of the deficit?

Quitting a competition has rarely gone well.

In 1972, American Bobby Fischer gained an advantageous position on the Soviet Union’s Boris Spassky in the 21st game of a best-of-24 match for the world chess championship. The game was recessed for the day. The next day, Spassky, anticipating a loss, resigned the 21st game in a telephone call, clinching the title for Fischer. Spassky was widely criticized for not resigning — or congratulating Fischer — in person.

In what was billed as a “Super Fight” in 1980, Roberto Duran quit near the end of the eighth round. Duran was believed to have quit because of stomach cramps, “Sugar” Ray Leonard’s relentless punches, or Leonard’s relentless punches to his stomach. Duran apparently told the referee “no mas” (Spanish for “no more.”) The Panama-reared boxer known as “Manos de Piedra” (“hands of stone”) lost his popularity grip after that fight.

Except for a few exceptions, quitting is not an option. Basketball teams foul and call timeouts in the please-please-please comeback attempt. A losing hockey team pulls its goalie for an additional scorer. SAT tutors encourage students to guess if they don’t know because there is no penalty for a wrong answer.

Spelling bee competitors don’t know the meaning of quit.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

“Definition?”

“Origin?”

Some should never quit during an activity, like cardiothoracic surgeons or pilots.

But if you’re winning at the craps table but still haven’t paid the electric bill, or if you’re George Santos, or if you’re too far behind with too little time remaining, it should be OK to call it quits.