15 September 2000
Automotive Lebensraum
JB vs. parking lot expansion.

22 September 2000
Football Returns to HC
JB vs. the Harvard Crimson.

29 September 2000
West of the Hudson
JB vs. people from 'flyover territory.'

6 October 2000
Americans Under Attack
JB vs. hurtful stereotypes.

27 October 2000
The Silverware Bandit
JB vs. law and order, Kimball-style.

3 November 2000
ITS Alive
JB vs. the college's Napster policy.

10 November 2000
Hail to the Chief
JB vs. Gore vs. Bush vs. Nader.

17 November 2000
Complaints, Complaints
JB vs. student government.

2 February 2001
The Semester Ahead
JB vs. anticipated 'senior nostalgia.'

16 February 2001
Unequal Equivalency
JB vs. Crossroads' capitalist pigs.

23 February 2001
Xcess of Xtreme
JB vs. the WWF's Vince McMahon.

2 March 2001
The Eve of Spring Break
JB vs. brainwashing cults.

30 March 2001
Losing the Lottery
JB vs. on-campus housing selection.

30 March 2001
The Greatest Rivalry Ever
JB vs. Major League Baseball.

6 April 2001
Door-to-Door Campaigning
JB vs. campus elections '01.

27 April 2001
Crunch Time
JB vs. the Soggies.

4 May 2001
Crusade for a Better Paper
MB vs. Brocklesby's evil plan.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," he continued, "but isn't this place supposed to be No. 1 in the nation for pastoral beauty? Allegedly maintained by the most obsessive/compulsive Physical Plant department this side of Pennsylvania Avenue? Right? Am I right here?"

Realizing that my efforts to ignore him were going for naught, I acknowledged the semicoherent rants of my erstwhile lunchtime buddy and newly-minted H.C. sophomore, Joey Brocklesby '03, reflecting on the literal Greek translation of the word and wondering if my second-year friend was more the "wise" or the "fool."

Eventually he came around to explaining the meat of his objection (as opposed to the objectionable meat, which is what the "deli" line was serving). The sightline-interrupting, staircase-closing, road-blocking Smith Hall construction project was grating on Joey's nerves. I let his tirade run its course before mentioning that Smith Hall, when completed, would form the keystone of an even more beautiful campus. I even appealed to his respect for our nationally-recognized Classics program by pointing out that Rome wasn't built in a day, a proven whine-stopper for which my loud friend had no immediate response.

"Those tennis courts, now there's a real crying shame," he said after letting the conversation lie dead for a minute. My hopes for more blessed silence quashed, I joined in on the complaint. Sure, I told him, it was dastardly deed for the school to pave over our best tennis courts simply to add more parking spaces for faculty and staff. And to eliminate a midsize swath of grass from Hart Lawn to add a few more student spaces.

"You said it," he responded. He then dropped his voice conspiratorially low and leaned in close to me. "But I hear ... that this parking lot expansion ... is only the beginning," he revealed. He was hesitant to tell me any more, but I put all my best journalist's skills to work and convinced him to confide in me in return for a bogus promise of anonymity.

"Word is that the Administration plans to add 40 new parking spaces over Christmas Break, and 20 more during Spring Break, annexing the Lawn piece-by-piece until finally the entire Lawn is gone and the Hill is paved from Hogan to Hart."

That's ludicrous and silly, I said.

"That's what people said about Germany in the 1930s," insisted Joey. "Those tennis courts are Czechoslovakia! That corner of the lawn near Mulledy is Austria! It's automotive Lebensraum and we're powerless to stop it!" Observing my doubtful face, Joey persisted: "Say what you will, but don't you find it just a little bit coincidental that this latest power-grab by the Parking Lot people coincides perfectly with the last-minute shifting of the Hart Lawn movie to the Fieldhouse?"

And here I was blaming it on the rain.

"Quote weather reports if you will. Laugh if you will. But you'll see that I'm right when asphalt reigns supreme and all the green space has been eliminated from our once-beautiful campus, the former crown jewel of South Worcester!"

Okay, I said, if you're so smart -- if the Administration is playing Third Reich -- then who's the blitz-plagued France?

"Too easy to answer," responded Joey. "It's our friends at Physical Plant again. Here they work day in and day out to make our campus a green, wrought-iron-fenced gem -- the finest institution visible to the naked eye from I-290 -- and the Administration knows it. That's the mistake that Physical Plant made. In their efforts to maintain the pastoral beauty of this campus, they have made themselves integral to the Holy Cross community -- too integral, some might say -- and this is the Administration's way of reducing their power base and redirecting the support of that real estate to none other than the Administration stooges in the Parking-Permit-issuing Department of Public Safety!"

I took one last chomp out of my "deli"-line mystery meat and gladly excused myself from the table.

Yet walking back to my Hill Dorm residence, I took special note of the construction site's interruption of our smoothly-rolling, well-manicured hills. Later, on the way to Hart, I saw an image of SUVs parked as far as the eye could see, each one with its $75 parking permit in the driver-side rear window. Impossible, right?

Maybe Joey and I are wrong. Maybe it's we who have gone completely nutso. Maybe so, but it doesn't change the fact that we've lost our tennis court.

This article appeared in the 15 September 2000 edition of The Crusader, on page 12 (the second page of Features section), across from the author's recommendation of "Mr. T. versus Everything" as the Website pick of the week.