Int.--Amen to that. Now about the Harvard game in 1935, give us a little inside dope on that. Was that pass hard to catch?

K--"All I had to do was hold out my arms, cradle the ball, turn around, and run for the naked goal line."

Reidy--Make it "unclothed" goal line. This is no cheap burlesque.

K--As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. "Coach Harlow, of Harvard, was kind enough to say that this touchdown run shouldn't be called dumb luck. He said I had the presence of mind to cash in on the break. Thanks Dick, but how could I miss it?"

Int.--I dunno. But tell us what was the proudest moment in your life.

K.--"The proudest moment of my life came soon afterward, on the evening when I heard I had been elected captain of the Yale team. It made me feel that . . . I was now accepted by my teammates as a regular guy. . . . At Yale it carries a responsibility . . . At Yale the game still belongs to the players."

Reidy--Loud trumpets, cymbals, and wind instruments at this point.

Int.--Did you ever get any fan mail?

K--"These letters were rather distracting. My favorite correspondent was an anonymous young lady who saluted me as 'Dear Nitwit' and closed by saying 'So long, picklepuss, shed a tear for me as I re-enter these virginal walls.'"

Reidy--Give me a pen and paper somebody, quick. I want to write a letter.