Trumbull

Yes, you finished the winter season in last place, and in truth, who cares? Those silly little IM points, tabulated by silly little men and women at IM central, may be coveted by the silly little colleges that take IMs seriously, but you, my glorious Trumbull, you don't give a silly little fecal wad about those silly little token victories. Baby, this spring will be beautiful. You will throw your big Bulls into the fray like you aren't afraid to be castrated. You will march to play field hockey with Kate Cassidy '00 and Amus '00. Stephanie Schmid '02 will gather you within her protecting arms, and softball will never be the same again. The swallows will return from San Juan and you will be there, out on the IM fields, with Dev Gandhi '02 and your frisbee team- mates, flittering like a swallow yourself.

The buds will blossom into flowers and you, dear Trumbull, will be there to fertilize those flowers with Vinnie Wilhelm '00 and your baseball hivemates. Frolic, cholic, shmolic, spring is coming, my glistening Trumbull, join the fray.

Your doting daddy,

Colonial Governor Jonathan Trumbull

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