Ed got up, squashed out his cigaret and put on the white-and-red flowered pajamas which his daughter had bought for him at Wanamaker's. He took a final look around the room before going to bed. "You know," said Ed, making his last observation of the night, "sometimes, just sometimes, I hope that maybe Vinnie will lose. Not in the Olympics or anything like that. But just a little tiny loss when it doesn't really count. It's 53 straight now, and I'm gettin' a little tired of holdin' my breath." Then Ed hopped into bed and turned out the light to dream of glory at Melbourne.