jock.
Maybe his corner kicks are so lofty because he is descended from the Almighty.
Still, if I have to be a second stringer it might as well be to the likes of Karim Aga Khan, who is, as Professor Finley put it, "the great, great, great, - great, and ad infinitum grandson of God." -
And he's not the only dignitary who has relegated me to
being practically a spectator. Our center forward is another divinity-a genuine Persian prince. And we've got ringers from places as exotic as South America, the Philippines-and even public high schools. All of whom have contributed to my sedentary status.
But at least we're undefeated. There's some comfort to be found in that. And if I get to play another seven minutes, I'll have earned my freshman numerals.
As if the flower of my confidence has not been
sufficiently wilted by the heat of these guys' talent on the field, I grit my teeth as I report that Bruce Macdonald, the best player of them all, is perhaps the greatest genius in the whole damn Class. -
He graduated number one at Exeter, was captain and high scorer of their soccer team, ditto for lacrosse in springtime. And just to keep him busy in the evenings, he's so terrific- with a violin that, as a freshman, he's been chosen concertmaster of the Harvard-Radcliffe Orchestra! Thank God I arrived here with a well-developed feeling of
inferiority. Because if I had come as cocky as most guys were on the first day we were kicking soccer balls, I would have thrown myself into the Charles.
The
rabbi stood at the podium and announced:
"After the concluding hymn, the congregation is cordially invited -to the Vestry Room for wine, fruit, and honeycake. Now let us turn to page one hundred two and
join in the singing of 'Adon Olam, Lord of the Universe.'' In the organ loft above, Danny Rossi picked up his cue and struck the opening chords with a gusto that delighted the worshippers.
Lord of the Universe, who reigned Ere earth and heaven's fashioning, When to create a world he deigned
Then was his name proclaimed King.
After the rabbi's benediction, they filed out as Danny played the recessional. The moment he finished, he grabbed his jacket and hurried downstairs.
He entered the Vestry Room unobtrusively and headed for
the abundantly laden tables. As he -was filling a paper plate with slices of cake, he heard the rabbi's voice.
"How good of you to stay on, Danny. It's certainly beyond the call of duty. I know how terribly busy you are."
"Oh, I enjoy being involved in everything, Rabbi," he replied. "I mean, it's all very interesting for me."
Danny was being quite sincere. Although he did not mention that what he most appreciated about the Jewish festivals was the plentiful food, which usually enabled him to skip lunch. This particular Saturday would be especially hectic for
him, since the youth group of the Congregational church in Quincy, which he also served, was holding its Fall Hop. And he had persuaded the minister to hire "his" trio (quickly calling the Union for a young drummer and bassist). It would be tiring, but that fifty-buck fee would be a great consolation.
It seemed pointless to go all the way back to Cambridge to pass the time between sacred and secular gigs, especially
since Harvard would be caught up in Saturday football
mania and it would be too noisy to work anyway. So Danny took the MTA to Copley Square and spent the afternoon studying in the Boston Public Library. -
There was a plumpish brunette sitting at the end of his table, with several notebooks emblazoned BOSTOr'.~ U~'JIvERSITY. This gave the timid Casanova a clue of how to engage her in conversation.
"Do you go to B.U.?"
"Yeah."
"I go to Harvard myself."
"That figures," she said dismissively.
With a sigh of anticipated defeat, Danny returned to
Hindemith's Craft of Musical Composition.
When he emerged, a chilly darkness had descended upon
Maybe his corner kicks are so lofty because he is descended from the Almighty.
Still, if I have to be a second stringer it might as well be to the likes of Karim Aga Khan, who is, as Professor Finley put it, "the great, great, great, - great, and ad infinitum grandson of God." -
And he's not the only dignitary who has relegated me to
being practically a spectator. Our center forward is another divinity-a genuine Persian prince. And we've got ringers from places as exotic as South America, the Philippines-and even public high schools. All of whom have contributed to my sedentary status.
But at least we're undefeated. There's some comfort to be found in that. And if I get to play another seven minutes, I'll have earned my freshman numerals.
As if the flower of my confidence has not been
sufficiently wilted by the heat of these guys' talent on the field, I grit my teeth as I report that Bruce Macdonald, the best player of them all, is perhaps the greatest genius in the whole damn Class. -
He graduated number one at Exeter, was captain and high scorer of their soccer team, ditto for lacrosse in springtime. And just to keep him busy in the evenings, he's so terrific- with a violin that, as a freshman, he's been chosen concertmaster of the Harvard-Radcliffe Orchestra! Thank God I arrived here with a well-developed feeling of
inferiority. Because if I had come as cocky as most guys were on the first day we were kicking soccer balls, I would have thrown myself into the Charles.
The
rabbi stood at the podium and announced:
"After the concluding hymn, the congregation is cordially invited -to the Vestry Room for wine, fruit, and honeycake. Now let us turn to page one hundred two and
join in the singing of 'Adon Olam, Lord of the Universe.'' In the organ loft above, Danny Rossi picked up his cue and struck the opening chords with a gusto that delighted the worshippers.
Lord of the Universe, who reigned Ere earth and heaven's fashioning, When to create a world he deigned
Then was his name proclaimed King.
After the rabbi's benediction, they filed out as Danny played the recessional. The moment he finished, he grabbed his jacket and hurried downstairs.
He entered the Vestry Room unobtrusively and headed for
the abundantly laden tables. As he -was filling a paper plate with slices of cake, he heard the rabbi's voice.
"How good of you to stay on, Danny. It's certainly beyond the call of duty. I know how terribly busy you are."
"Oh, I enjoy being involved in everything, Rabbi," he replied. "I mean, it's all very interesting for me."
Danny was being quite sincere. Although he did not mention that what he most appreciated about the Jewish festivals was the plentiful food, which usually enabled him to skip lunch. This particular Saturday would be especially hectic for
him, since the youth group of the Congregational church in Quincy, which he also served, was holding its Fall Hop. And he had persuaded the minister to hire "his" trio (quickly calling the Union for a young drummer and bassist). It would be tiring, but that fifty-buck fee would be a great consolation.
It seemed pointless to go all the way back to Cambridge to pass the time between sacred and secular gigs, especially
since Harvard would be caught up in Saturday football
mania and it would be too noisy to work anyway. So Danny took the MTA to Copley Square and spent the afternoon studying in the Boston Public Library. -
There was a plumpish brunette sitting at the end of his table, with several notebooks emblazoned BOSTOr'.~ U~'JIvERSITY. This gave the timid Casanova a clue of how to engage her in conversation.
"Do you go to B.U.?"
"Yeah."
"I go to Harvard myself."
"That figures," she said dismissively.
With a sigh of anticipated defeat, Danny returned to
Hindemith's Craft of Musical Composition.
When he emerged, a chilly darkness had descended upon
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