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Upon reflection, our ¡Èpost-game party¡É (as Stratton referred to it) was pretentiously unpretentious. Jenny and I had absolutely rejected the champagne route, and since there were so few of us we could all fit into one booth, we went to drink beer at Cronin¡Çs. As I recall, Jim Cronin himself set up with a round, as a tribute to ¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers.¡É
¡ÈLike hell,¡É argued Phil Cavilleri, pounding his fist on the table. ¡ÈHe¡Çs better than all the Clearys put together.¡É Philip¡Çs meaning, I believe (he had never seen a Harvard hockey game), was that however well Bobby or Bill Cleary might have skated, neither got to marry his lovely daughter. I mean, we were all smashed, and it was just an excuse for getting more so.
I let Phil pick up the tab, a decision which later evoked one of Jenny¡Çs rare compliments about my intuition (You¡Çll be a human being yet, Preppie¡É). I got a little hairy at the end when we drove him to the bus, however. I mean the wet-eyes bit. His, Jenny¡Çs, maybe mine too; I don¡Çt remember anything except that the moment was liquid.
Anyway, after all sorts of blessings, he got onto the bus, and we waited and waved until it drove out of sight. It was then that the awesome truth started to get to me.
¡ÈJenny, we¡Çre legally married!¡É
¡ÈYeah, now I can be a bitch.¡É
²òÀâ¡§¤³¤Î¾Ï¤ÎºÇ¸å¤Ç¤¹¡£
Upon reflection¡Ê»×¤¦¤Ë¡§reflection¤Ï¡ÖÈ¿¼Í¡¢±Æ¶Á¡¢½Ïθ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë, our ¡Èpost-game¡ÊÄÌÎã¡Ö¥Ð¡¼¤Ê¤É¤Ç°û¤ó¤À¸åͧã¤Ê¤É¤Î²È¤Ç°û¤ßľ¤¹¤³¤È¡×¤ò¤¤¤¤¤Þ¤¹¡× party¡É (as Stratton referred to it) was pretentiously¡Ê¶Ä¡¹¤·¤¯¡Ë unpretentious¡Ê¶Ä¡¹¤·¤¯¤Ê¤¤¡Ë. Jenny and I had absolutely rejected the champagne¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡ÖìÔÂô¤Ê¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë route, and since there were so few of us we could all fit into one booth, we went to drink beer at Cronin¡Çs. As I recall, Jim Cronin himself set up with¡Ê¡¦¡¦¡¦¤ò½àÈ÷¤¹¤ë¡Ë a round¡Ê¡ã¼ò¤Ê¤É¤Î¡äÁ´°÷¤Ø¤Î¤Ò¤È¤ï¤¿¤ê¢ÍºÇ½é¤Î°ìÇÕ¤ÏŹ¤Î¤ª¤´¤ê¤À¤Ã¤¿¤È¤¤¤¦¤³¤È¤Ç¤¹¡Ë, as a tribute¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡Ö¾Þ»¿¤Î°õ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë to ¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers¡Ê£±£¹£µ£´¡Ý£µ£¸¤Ë¼ÂºÝ¤ËÂç³èÌö¡Ë.¡É
¡ÈLike hell¡Ê¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers.¡É¤Ê¤ó¤Æ¤È¤ó¤Ç¤â¤Ê¤¤¡Ë,¡É argued¡Ê¼çÄ¥¤·¤¿¡Ë Phil Cavilleri, pounding¡Ê¥¬¥ó¥¬¥ó᤯¡Ë his fist on the table. ¡ÈHe¡Çs better than all the Clearys put together¡Ê´ó¤»½¸¤á¤ë¡Ë.¡É Philip¡Çs meaning, I believe (he had never seen a Harvard hockey game), was that however well Bobby or Bill Cleary might have skated, neither got to marry¡Ê¡¦¡¦¡¦¤È·ëº§¤¹¤ë¤Ë¤Ï»ê¤é¤Ê¤«¤Ã¤¿¡Ë his lovely daughter. I mean, we were all smashed¡Ê¿ì¤Ã¤Ñ¤é¤Ã¤¿¡Ë, and it was just an excuse for getting more so¡Ê¡ásmashed¡Ë.
I let Phil pick up the tab¡ÊPhil¤¬Á´ÈñÍѤò»ý¤Ä¤Î¤òÀ©¤·¤Ê¤«¤Ã¤¿¡§tab¤Ï¡Ö´ªÄê½ñ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë, a decision which later evoked¡Ê°ú¤µ¯¤³¤·¤¿¡Ë one of Jenny¡Çs rare compliments about my intuition¡áľ´Ñ¡¢Æ¶»¡ÎÏ (You¡Çll be a human being yet¡Ê½õư»ì¤È¶¦¤Ë»È¤ï¤ì¤Æ¡Ö¤¤¤Ä¤ÎÆü¤Ë¤«¡×¡Ë, Preppie¡É). I got a little hairy¡Êº¤Æñ¤Ê¡¢°·¤¤Æñ¤¤¡Ë at the end when we drove him to the bus, however. I mean the wet-eyes bit¡Ê¾ìÌÌ¡Ë. His, Jenny¡Çs, maybe mine too; I don¡Çt remember anything except that the moment was liquid¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡ÖÉÔ°ÂÄê¤Ê¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë.
Anyway, after all sorts of blessings, he got onto the bus, and we waited and waved until it drove out of sight. It was then that the awesome¡Ê¤È¤Æ¤â¤è¤¤¡Ë truth started to get to ¡ÊÅþÃ夹¤ë¡Ëme.
¡ÈJenny, we¡Çre legally married!¡É
¡ÈYeah, now I can be a bitch¡Ê°ÕÃϤत½÷¡Ë.¡É
Upon reflection, our ¡Èpost-game party¡É (as Stratton referred to it) was pretentiously unpretentious. Jenny and I had absolutely rejected the champagne route, and since there were so few of us we could all fit into one booth, we went to drink beer at Cronin¡Çs. As I recall, Jim Cronin himself set up with a round, as a tribute to ¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers.¡É
¡ÈLike hell,¡É argued Phil Cavilleri, pounding his fist on the table. ¡ÈHe¡Çs better than all the Clearys put together.¡É Philip¡Çs meaning, I believe (he had never seen a Harvard hockey game), was that however well Bobby or Bill Cleary might have skated, neither got to marry his lovely daughter. I mean, we were all smashed, and it was just an excuse for getting more so.
I let Phil pick up the tab, a decision which later evoked one of Jenny¡Çs rare compliments about my intuition (You¡Çll be a human being yet, Preppie¡É). I got a little hairy at the end when we drove him to the bus, however. I mean the wet-eyes bit. His, Jenny¡Çs, maybe mine too; I don¡Çt remember anything except that the moment was liquid.
Anyway, after all sorts of blessings, he got onto the bus, and we waited and waved until it drove out of sight. It was then that the awesome truth started to get to me.
¡ÈJenny, we¡Çre legally married!¡É
¡ÈYeah, now I can be a bitch.¡É
²òÀâ¡§¤³¤Î¾Ï¤ÎºÇ¸å¤Ç¤¹¡£
Upon reflection¡Ê»×¤¦¤Ë¡§reflection¤Ï¡ÖÈ¿¼Í¡¢±Æ¶Á¡¢½Ïθ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë, our ¡Èpost-game¡ÊÄÌÎã¡Ö¥Ð¡¼¤Ê¤É¤Ç°û¤ó¤À¸åͧã¤Ê¤É¤Î²È¤Ç°û¤ßľ¤¹¤³¤È¡×¤ò¤¤¤¤¤Þ¤¹¡× party¡É (as Stratton referred to it) was pretentiously¡Ê¶Ä¡¹¤·¤¯¡Ë unpretentious¡Ê¶Ä¡¹¤·¤¯¤Ê¤¤¡Ë. Jenny and I had absolutely rejected the champagne¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡ÖìÔÂô¤Ê¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë route, and since there were so few of us we could all fit into one booth, we went to drink beer at Cronin¡Çs. As I recall, Jim Cronin himself set up with¡Ê¡¦¡¦¡¦¤ò½àÈ÷¤¹¤ë¡Ë a round¡Ê¡ã¼ò¤Ê¤É¤Î¡äÁ´°÷¤Ø¤Î¤Ò¤È¤ï¤¿¤ê¢ÍºÇ½é¤Î°ìÇÕ¤ÏŹ¤Î¤ª¤´¤ê¤À¤Ã¤¿¤È¤¤¤¦¤³¤È¤Ç¤¹¡Ë, as a tribute¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡Ö¾Þ»¿¤Î°õ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë to ¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers¡Ê£±£¹£µ£´¡Ý£µ£¸¤Ë¼ÂºÝ¤ËÂç³èÌö¡Ë.¡É
¡ÈLike hell¡Ê¡Èthe greatest Harvard hockey player since the Cleary brothers.¡É¤Ê¤ó¤Æ¤È¤ó¤Ç¤â¤Ê¤¤¡Ë,¡É argued¡Ê¼çÄ¥¤·¤¿¡Ë Phil Cavilleri, pounding¡Ê¥¬¥ó¥¬¥ó᤯¡Ë his fist on the table. ¡ÈHe¡Çs better than all the Clearys put together¡Ê´ó¤»½¸¤á¤ë¡Ë.¡É Philip¡Çs meaning, I believe (he had never seen a Harvard hockey game), was that however well Bobby or Bill Cleary might have skated, neither got to marry¡Ê¡¦¡¦¡¦¤È·ëº§¤¹¤ë¤Ë¤Ï»ê¤é¤Ê¤«¤Ã¤¿¡Ë his lovely daughter. I mean, we were all smashed¡Ê¿ì¤Ã¤Ñ¤é¤Ã¤¿¡Ë, and it was just an excuse for getting more so¡Ê¡ásmashed¡Ë.
I let Phil pick up the tab¡ÊPhil¤¬Á´ÈñÍѤò»ý¤Ä¤Î¤òÀ©¤·¤Ê¤«¤Ã¤¿¡§tab¤Ï¡Ö´ªÄê½ñ¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë, a decision which later evoked¡Ê°ú¤µ¯¤³¤·¤¿¡Ë one of Jenny¡Çs rare compliments about my intuition¡áľ´Ñ¡¢Æ¶»¡ÎÏ (You¡Çll be a human being yet¡Ê½õư»ì¤È¶¦¤Ë»È¤ï¤ì¤Æ¡Ö¤¤¤Ä¤ÎÆü¤Ë¤«¡×¡Ë, Preppie¡É). I got a little hairy¡Êº¤Æñ¤Ê¡¢°·¤¤Æñ¤¤¡Ë at the end when we drove him to the bus, however. I mean the wet-eyes bit¡Ê¾ìÌÌ¡Ë. His, Jenny¡Çs, maybe mine too; I don¡Çt remember anything except that the moment was liquid¡Ê¤³¤³¤Ç¤Ï¡ÖÉÔ°ÂÄê¤Ê¡×¤Î°Õ¡Ë.
Anyway, after all sorts of blessings, he got onto the bus, and we waited and waved until it drove out of sight. It was then that the awesome¡Ê¤È¤Æ¤â¤è¤¤¡Ë truth started to get to ¡ÊÅþÃ夹¤ë¡Ëme.
¡ÈJenny, we¡Çre legally married!¡É
¡ÈYeah, now I can be a bitch¡Ê°ÕÃϤत½÷¡Ë.¡É