Good Game

by John O'Shields 

It's coming to a close. If you've lost track of the days and your syllabus, you need only look upon the haggard faces of the students as they drag themselves down the hall in yesterday’s sweatpants and jersey. Males have forgotten their hair product and females have reinvented the bun for the sake of the future. Cumbersome laptops have become too daunting or too precious to be seen lying about. Cheerful greetings have devolved into solemn nods laced with empathy and strained looks that beg for mercy. Even some professors have adopted the ritual of the piteous nod and they seem more human for the concession. Technology glitches are handled with poise and familiarity by professors who only scant weeks before grieved with the rest of us as we awed at the rose-haired salvation of a tireless and infinitely wise IT hero.

We scrutinized the thoughts and scholarly attempts of our peers with grace and respect. We cheered relentless teams and clubs and even individuals as we claimed one victory after the next in a wave of domination that left our big brothers looking our way, some for the first time. We wrestled with challenges and consoled those suffering failings. And we all became something more than when we began. We know more; about a sea of subjects and, perhaps more importantly, ourselves.

Here we stand, on the edge of the next step. Good game. Enjoy your well deserved reprieve.