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There was a crisp wind blowing up Tokyo Bay and Vag watched the palm trees some Admiral's wife ordered planted bending crazily in the chilling breeze. Somehow, thought Vag, those should be elm trees. Funny thing how these cool autumn days in Japan brought back memories of Cambridge in the fall--how on cold November days Vag speculated whether or not he should shift from chinos to gray flannels. Vag remembered that, of course, he never did. Even those Japanese kids were beginning to resemble. Harvard Square urchins. But, decided Vag, the propositions they were screaming were even more ribald than those hurled by Cambridge gamins. Besides, the Cambridge brats only stole your wallet at goal post riots. At least they never stole hub caps off a moving car.
Vag wandered into the Officer's Club for a drink and bought the latest "Stars and Stripes." The headline on the sports page said, "Harvard Coach Eyes First Win Over Elis." My Gawd, thought Vag, they're playing in New Haven tomorrow. Oh, well, have to grow up some day and who'd want to be the only duffer at the 25th reunion who had never missed a Yale game? Anyway, didn't Jordan Olivar say last week that it was just another football game. The mere thought of Olivar set Vag to cursing him for that asinine Yaeger stunt.
Vag was still mumbling about poor taste when his Yalie friend joint him at the bar. Vag noticed that he was still wearing his Brezelius tie but refrained from making any snide comments. The crew-cut Eli was offering seven points. Vag hadn't yet received his clippings from home on the Harvard-Brown game. Maybe Clasby wouldn't even play against Yale tomorrow. Vag was still pondering Clasby's fate as he pulled out 400 yen. He really ought to make it an even bet just to show his contempt for all old Blues. But Vag figured he might just as well take the lad's money. After all, they had scalped him last year.
The Yalie was gloating over some Corporal's sports column in "Starts and Stripes" about "Princeton Woes." Something in it about Princeton's "narrow escape with impotent Harvard." The Yalie thought that "impotent" business was pretty cute until Vag snarled "too bad you missed the Dartmouth game this year." The Eli suddenly started talking about Malloy's broken leg. The tension broke when Vag's Princeton Ensign strode up and bet the Eli that Harvard would win. Vag had always claimed you couldn't tell a Princeton from a Yalie, but any Charlie who put money on Harvard was Vag's buddy. This even deserved another drink..
After a few more beers Vag thought the Officers Club bar looked like Morey's. He fondly remembered the night before a Harvard-Yale game when he and some classmates were thrown out for singing "Ten Thousand Men" too loudly. Jeezus, thought Vag, that was two years ago. Vag could see the Harvard's now, wandering about New Haven, trying to crash a St. Anthony's formal. Strange, mused Vag, how he and his friends had always been so friendly away from Cambridge and when in New Haven complained because the Elis were so cold and pompous. They didn't even let Vag into Skull and Bones. Yalies were like that.
Vag could now remember well his walk two years ago down the cold tunnel into the Bowl as the Band swung into "Our Director"--the saucer-shaped bowl that gave Vag the uncomfortable sensation that he was watching the game from West Rock--the Blue flare some Yale freshman set off that smothered the Eli faus instead of the Crimson--the din when Hardy crashed into Molloy and Harvard went ahead 21-14--the sickening final minutes when Yale tied the ball game--the weird feeling Vag had driving to New York, not knowing whether to sing or Sulk.
Vag was becoming nervous. He wished those Navy zooms at the bar would stop telling him about their 30 missions off the "Boxer." If they wouldn't hurry up and stop talking. Vag might miss the kick-off....
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