Join the Pilgrimage! Florida Over Spring Break

Somewhere around Savannah, you begin to smell it. You peel yourself out of the car for a Mountain Dew while the gas man pumps it full of unleaded, and it grabs you like a Dick Butkus bear-hug. You smell it, you taste it, and then you feel it: summer is coming--you are going to Florida.

By the time you stumble back--eight days, 70 verses of "American Pie," 642 beers and one homecoming stop at Buzzy's later--every cell of your being will be satiated with sun, sand, alcohol and the smell of your fellow sun lovers crammed into that Duster for all those hours. But it will have been worth it--the tan alone would be enough; the frisbee games, margaritas and girl you met in Daytona are extra cheese in the taco.

On the first day back that the temperature reaches sixty, you tear off that down jacket and walk through the Yard in the yellow South-of-the Border t-shirt and the ebony south-of-the Carolinas tan that proclaims to the world, "I know where the good times roll"--that makes the pain of waking up for Fine Arts 175 worthwhile.

Enough of the preamble. You know about The Button and the beaches, or you wouldn't have read this far. It's time for the Sports Cube Guide to Florida--or, how to make the most of the best eight days of the academic year. First, some rules to remember.

1. GET AN EARLY START. That means Wednesday, or Thursday at the latest. Unless your daddy owns an oil rig, you'll be driving down, and that means 30 hours minimum. Beat the crowd to the dunes, or you may be left behind at the pool.

2. LEAVE AT NIGHT. If you hit the Mass Pike at about 11 p.m., you'll glide through Washington--the last city with any traffic to speak of--at about 6 the next morning. It's clear sailing from there to Ocala.

3. DON'T STAY IN ONE PLACE. Florida isn't just Miami, for all of you misguided Long Islanders. In fact, most of the action--without the crushing crowds--can be found at points north, from Fort Lauderdale up to Pensacola. But there's no need to tie yourself down just because you have an eight-day, seven-night package deal at The Seaward, just ten feet from the sand in Lauderdale. Hop in the car and see the state. Remember--booze and the opposite sex can be found everywhere. Be inventive.

4. SPRING TRAINING. Without the baseball, you might as well go to Sea Island, Georgia, or Myrtle Beach, S.C. Maybe you can't tell Alan Trammell from Alan Alda, but go to the ballpark anyway. The sun is warm (go ahead, take your shirt off--this is Florida), the players are right there and the mood is relaxed. More relaxed, in fact, than the pass-the-lotion, am-I-burning? mood of the beach. And if you do like baseball. I don't even have to say any more. Just a word to the wise about Winter Haven: get there early on game days and watch Mike Smithson throw, Wheeeeeew!

5. JAI ALAI. What better way to finance your trip than with the 1-2-4 Quinicla box at Dania? If you get to Miami, put your beer money on Joey Kornblit, only Jewish jai-alai star. Or, bet the horses at Flagler or Florida Downs or even the dogs. Yeah, you wouldn't cross the street to see the pups at Wonderland, but the sun makes everything beautiful.

Condominiums

Now you know everything to make next week the most awesomely exciting in your lifetime. Don't blow it by deciding that thesis or junior essay is more important, or the home town honey in Westchester that you haven't seensince the Super Bowl deserves your company for a week. You'll end up regretting you ever bought that ring when you hear the stories and see the tans.

Got a car, or know somebody who does? Come along on the pilgrimage. It's three months until sumer, and, seriously, you know you just can't wait that long. See you at the popsicle stand, sports...