Mind Games Before The Game

WHY doesn't Bob Barker give away free Harvard-Yale game tickets on "The Price is Right"?

Does he sneer at pretentious rivalries? Is he afraid "Showcase Showdown" contestants won't appreciate Ivy League football?

Or is the problem that Barker can't--in good conscience--bellow, "And showcase number two is...a luxurious weekend in New Haven!"

My guess is Barker never thought about giving away tickets to The Game. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't capitalize the "T" and the "G." In the real world, nobody thinks about The Game, excepting Harvard affiliates interested in honest athletic competition and Yalies still bitter over their Harvard rejections.

And make no mistake about it: Yalies care about The Game a lot. "We're going to beat you," they like to say with that famous Yale creativity. "Harvard sucks."

The humane response to such pathetic displays of academic insecurity is to wipe their foaming mouths and then recommend professional help.

The humane response, however, is no fun. I suggest the alternative approach of sadistically playing with their minds. Their small, defenseless minds.

THE first stage of mental manipulation is to agree enthusiastically with everything Yalies say.

"Yes," you should croon, "Yale is a much better school."

"Yes, Benno Schmidt could probably beat up Derek Bok."

"Yes, I will come back to New Haven again and again."

Now slowly take the offensive, all in the guise of supporting Yale. "Yale is such a great school," you should say. "And lucky for you, you're not burdened with the reputation of being the world's best."

"And Yale's library system--fantastic! With so few books it must be easy to find what you want.

"And your location is perfect for academics. If I lived in New Haven, I'd never do anything but stay in my room and study."

At this point, Yale students might begin to get defensive. "We beat you in hockey 6-2," the more intelligent might remember. "Nah, nah-nah-nah."

Again, the trick is to agree. "Yale played a great game," you should say, "as they always do once a year. You're so lucky you only have to bother with that one game. We must worry about the ECAC playoffs, the Beanpot and ultimately the NCAA championship. So much hassle."

NOW for the really fun part. Tell insecure Yalies you now regret your decision to turn down Yale for Harvard, subtlely emphasizing that you got into Yale. You have now penetrated the realm of their most profound insecurity--that Yale is a school of Harvard rejects. Proceed carefully but surely.

Casually mention that your Yale acceptance letter is crumpled up somewhere in the corner of your desk. Note that your mother begged you not to chose Yale over Harvard. And for the coup de grace, say you really should have chosen Yale, as safety schools often prove to be the best choice.

(Note: Yale didn't have to really accept you for this ploy to work. Yalies are so paranoid they'll believe anything.)

Best of all, this kind of mental torture involves no legal liability. It's a little known fact that Harvard-educated patriots exempted Yale affiliates from protection of the Bill of Rights. That means no due process. No trial by jury. And no protection from cruel and unusual punishment.