"Oh, Hubert-why so early in the afternoon?"

"Well, I thought you might like to see the Yale game."

"Urp. Uh, I-Well of course, Hubert, I'd love to see the Yale game."

"I knew you would. I sort of trapped you, didn't I?"

"Yes, Hubert. How clever of you."

At Dawn

Yale Saturday dawned murkily and Hubert struggled free of the tangled bedclothes, leaving a trail of sheets and blankets leading toward the john. Therein he groped for the drinking glass, but remembered that his roommate had dropped it the day before. He noticed blood pumping from a deep gash in his foot. He somehow got the shaving cream can backwards, and squirted his eye, dropped his pajama bottoms in surprise, lost his balance, and fell into the shower.

Hubert attended his three morning classes, but they had all been cancelled in honor of Yale's visit. He had to pass up lunch because the car wouldn't start, but a little salt in the radiator and half a coke in the battery water did the trick.

Hubert dropped his transmission in Harvard Square, and coasted to a stop in front of the Wursthaus. The game itself was a letdown for Mary Jane, because Hubert had misspelled Yale on his ticket application, and had been informed by a Mr. Lunden that his application for Yule tickets had been rejected. They listened to the game on the car radio until the battery ran down, then walked to Hubert's room for the last half, during which Hubert attempted eight forward passes and completed none.

I need not tell you about the rest. You know how congenial, how satisfying were the eight after-game parties they crashed, the blank faces, the curious stares, the drone of dull, repetitive remarks, the streaks of sticky gin punch on people's clothing. You know what dinner was like (breaded veal in the house dining hall). You know what the double bill at the U.T. was like. You don't know what transpired later in the car, because the tender togetherness of young lovers can be shared with no one. But Mary Jane pushed, and Hubert steered.

If you must socialize, if you must suffer, then go ahead. But with tickets going for $20 a pair, you can clear $19.50 by taking in the matinee at the U.T. Join me. I've got apathy I haven't even used yet.