Word: game
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...just that I went to the game. It's that I cheered. I actually jumped up on my seat when Harvard scored. I screamed. I felt happy when we were winning. I exchanged high fives with the people sitting next to me. I felt depressed when Yale started coming back. I ran onto the field afterwards. In short, I displayed school spirit...
THIS realization first struck me when I told my sister, who's still in high school in Kentucky, that I was going to New Haven for the Harvard-Yale game. Kentucky is a state that's big on sports, but the Harvard-Yale game?! She looked at me as if I'd lost my bearings, as if I'd suddenly announced that I'd voted for George Bush...
...remembered how I would have reacted in high school to someone who actually went to the Harvard-Yale game. There was a time when I was repulsed by the mere idea that thousands of Harvard and Yale students and alumni would really fill a stadium to cheer about how great their school was and how the other school sucked, while a few big guys down on the field ran around and tackled each other all afternoon...
Last time I had a chance to go to New Haven for the Game, two years ago, that repulsion hadn't worn off. I opted to stay in Cambridge and read John Locke in the library on that cold Saturday afternoon...
Reading Locke is probably just as bourgeois as going to The Game, but I think there's a difference. Around here anway, The Game is The Hype, and by going I show that I believe the hype, the same way that some newly westernized Berliners believe the hype about the hundred sausages...