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Word: smell (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...pungent smell of booze in the crisp autumn air, the sounds of old alums fawning over themselves and the sight of busloads of Harvard admissions rejects can only mean one thing. That’s right, it’s once again time for The Game—the annual event so nice they capitalized it twice...

Author: By Daniel E. Fernandez, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Games Behind The Game | 11/22/2002 | See Source »

...call for the ball. Maggette pushes the ball the length of the floor, a devastating blend of intensity and cool as the clock ticks on, and finally pulls up for a 10-foot jumper from the right baseline that sucks the life right out of a throng that could smell overtime. Fenwick wins, 70-68, and the media hordes descend upon Maggette. (Did we mention that this is Chicago...

Author: By Martin S. Bell, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Silent Assassin: Harvey Lets Game Speak For Itself | 11/20/2002 | See Source »

Directors and volunteers scurried around mixing orange juice, checking on supplies of sheets and towels and planning for dinner. The smell of coffee and pork chops permeated...

Author: By Laura L. Krug, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Student-Run Shelter Reopens for Season | 11/18/2002 | See Source »

While this may be the norm at Harvard, it was certainly a shock for me. After spending four years of high school attending University of Michigan football games, I had an expectation of what the “student section” at games should look, sound and smell like. A college football game meant crowds of students in insignia apparel standing up to watch the crucial moments, constant cheering, the ringing of keys and the smell of sweat and alcohol permeating the air. A typical Harvard game attracts a sprinkling of undergrads in H-Club t-shirts, clumps...

Author: By Margaret M. Rossman, | Title: School Spirit Beyond 'The Game' | 11/15/2002 | See Source »

...deftly wielding his peel (the paddle used to take bread in and out of an oven) like an extended arm. The ovens were heated to more than 200 degrees Celsius, and, as I dodged the racks of rising breads, I quickly began to sweat. Paolo called me over to smell the sourdough sponge (the mixture which gives the bread its flavor) that’s been growing for years. “Not very sour, though,” he said. “The people here in Cambridge don’t like it too strong...

Author: By Helen Springut, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Rise Up | 11/14/2002 | See Source »

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