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Harvard is a college where people come to learn. Students from Maine to California flock to this Athens on the Charles to learn about everything from the battle of Thermopylae to the psycho-dynamic theory of prejudice. But do they come only to learn the T-formation, the squeeze play, and the step-over toe hold? No!
In recent years, this College has just carried the system of coddling athletes to a nefarious extreme. Whose blood does not boil just a little when he sits down to his chili con carne at the House and thinks of those husky behemoths in their ivied retreat masticating on quantities of chateaubriand and Double Lamb chops?
Moreover, a new social order has been created by these devices. Athletes live apart from the rest of the herd, they eat, sleep, and play apart. What is worse, a cult of adoration has built up around the great hockey star or the speedy halfback. Boston newspapers follow their every move, urchins scuffle for their signatures outside the gates of Dillon, and sultry Hub temptresses sigh with desire at their Olympian exploits.
When the wintry winds blow and the snowflakes fly, think of those, somewhat more sportingly talented than us, who are seeking the sun in the Southland. Imagine them, lying on the soft sand, sipping exotic potions, or joyfully exhorting their comrades on to greater heights in a friendly game of catch.
Let us return to the days of yesteryear, when a man was judged by his mind and not his Earned Run Average. Let them eat chipped beef
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