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Word: knowed (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
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With the give and take between Donato and Bourbeau one wouldn't know that they weren't used to playing behind the blueline. The positions are new to them this year and sometimes uncomfortable...

Author: By Jennifer M. Frey, | Title: An A-Okay Power Play | 11/28/1988 | See Source »

...there are four different players who saw starting action this year, and they should tighten up the pass defense. After a year of playing together, cornerbacks Jim Smith, Chris Rezendes and Cory Thabit and hard-hitting adjuster Bobby Frame should know each other's strengths and weaknesses better...

Author: By Casey J. Lartigue jr., | Title: Gridders Are Optimistic Despite Dismal Season | 11/23/1988 | See Source »

...said that ignorance and apathy go hand in hand. By eliminating ignorance, SWAT hopes to eliminate apathy. We applaud Green's lack of apathy, for SWAT strongly feels that any discussion of the issue is good. The final clubs have thrived on secrecy and mystique; the more people know about the clubs, and the better they understand what they represent (as Green clearly does), the better for all of us. We only wish he and others were less ignorant about SWAT. John Andre Felitti '91 Jack L. Robbins...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: SWAT Responds | 11/23/1988 | See Source »

WHEN I found out that Bush got elected, I decided to go to Reading, Mass. Yes, there's a leap in logic there, but it's not as drastic as you might think. I know that, sitting as I am in the Eliot House dining hall, that I'm in a minority when I say that George Bush gives me the creeping crawling willies, but as a minority I decided I had one option. Escape. "Pardon me boys, is that the Canada-border choo choo...

Author: By John P. Thompson, | Title: Post-Election Escapism | 11/22/1988 | See Source »

...enough of mothers. It wasn't the womb I wanted to escape to. Outside the windows of the steaming, snorting, rolling chunk of industry and metal we call the Commuter Line, the usual stuff was flashing past--you know, telephone poles, lonely decaying buildings, clothes flapping on the line like lost souls. Nothing new. Clouds charged across the sky looking grumpy and muscular--who knew how soon the rain would come? Hell...

Author: By John P. Thompson, | Title: Post-Election Escapism | 11/22/1988 | See Source »

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