Calhoun

We're 2,000 points behind, our center is gone for the season, our fourth starting pitcher is staring down the Japanese mafia, our senior essay thesis has been axed like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day, and our lifeline gives us the hopes of Jack Dawson without a raft. But even Dawson, in the person of Leonardo of Growing Pains brought his home team an Oscar for Best Picture. And, thus we shall do so as Best College. We may not overtake the growing powerhouse beast known as Saybrook, but even Hamlet couldn't survive the end of the play, and we still consider him a hero. It's springtime, a time for rebirth for all of us in the afternoon blazing of the sun. There's new grass on the field; rounding third and heading for home, it's a brown-eyed Handsome 'Hounie (Thanks Mr. Fogerty.)

So, next time you think of playing a sport for the good of Calhoun, think of juniors Alison Doernberg, Keltie Ferris, Elizabeth Embry, Catherine Koh, and sophomore Alex McClain sweating it out on the soccer field in our reign of ultimate terror. Think then of the seniors who have been disemboweled by their current essay trauma. Then think of just showing up to a game; no personal invitations, no begging, no pleading. Just for the love of the game, the love of Calhoun, the love/hate of your secretaries, and the love of the rest of your life, knowing that you just did a good thing for the rest of us poor, suffering souls who would have forfeited or lost without you. You can make a difference, and this is not a representative democracy; this is a totalitarian government, and you are the autocrat.

(Compiled by an Econ major that needs to be majoring in writing dung like this.)

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