Why is Telander so angry? It's homecoming on a crisp fall Saturday. The school band blares the alma mater, and 50,000 fans rise in unison as the home team takes the field. Alumni have come from far and wide to savor this autumn ritual and to renew old friendships at class tents and tailgate parties. Faculty and their families relish the chance to share this common enthusiasm. In their reserved section at midfield, the gaily plaided women's field hockey squad—one of 17 other teams that depend on football revenues—has just arrived from its own homecoming game. Fresh-faced cheerleaders elicit the loudest applause from the undergraduate block, where more than half the student body—at little or sometimes no charge—enjoys a respite from studies. Confetti, camaraderie and conviviality fill the air, and for a few hours, at least, all's well with the world.
A bit idealized? Perhaps, but my scenario is more representative of college football than Telander's tiresome polemic. Come on, Rick, lighten up. Or go rain on someone else's parade.
STEPHEN R. FAHEY, M.D.
Sports Medicine Division
University of Maryland Health Center
Hats off to Peter Alson for his interesting SIDELINE (Sept. 25) on playing Wiffle Ball in the shadow of a backyard reproduction of Fenway's Green Monster. As students at Georgetown, we lack the outdoor space for such a project, but we share an unbounded love for the Wall. Within hours of arriving on campus this fall, we began to transform our dorm room into Little Fenway. The scoreboard of our Wall, which even includes Tom and Jean Yawkey's initials in Morse code, was designed to depict the moment preceding Carlton Fisk's historic home run in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series.
MARK A. CORCORAN
PETER G. MARTIN
DAVID M. WULF