Bump Prep

Or, The Bump Preparatory School for Young Meatheads...

Last night, while the tatties were roasting, I mapped out the team assignment plan for Bump. Another job well done, if I do say so myself. There's one or two loose ends, but everyone seems to be matched to the right thing, at least as far as I can tell. And with umpty-ump freshmen this year, there will be no problem finding runners (at least, there better not be any problem finding runners). Emily J says I get grumpy during Bump. Short of temper. I say, au contraire. I say Bah! to her. Ah-ha! to her. I am like the sun on a spring morning for at least a good five minutes of the weekend. Really. You just have to catch me at the right five minutes.

Entries are still coming in at the usual clip. We're somewhere either around 60 or 80; I forget, to tell you the truth. I have had to send a few people packing (no adult chaperones), but most people are following the procedure. I do need to sell a bunch of judges, and last night I solicited the usual suspects, who I expect will attend in the proverbial droves, if for no other reason than to find out if Noah can find them any jobs in the porn business.

Big Lex is marginally set, now that Twin M's dad has risen to the occasion. Matt is right; the team should fall at his feet. Or at least at his father's feet. I'm going to reserve the rooms when I finish typing this. I still question whether *everyone* will be able to go; we are awfully large, and far be it from me to expect people to give us a special deal when I don't give anyone any special deals at Bump. Business is business, on both ends of the equation. Too many people from one school lowers a tournament's value, regardless of what school it is. Ever wonder why Glenbrooks and Emory limit numbers? They're inntrinsically elite by virtue of their selection process AND by virtue of their selection limits.

Of course, I mainain that if no schools were ever allowed to venture more than 100 miles from home, debate would be a better place.

I've also started the ball rolling for the team elections. I do believe that aligning captaincy with the calendar year is a good idea because it allows for senioritis. Last year, of course, I simply appointed our captains because it seemed pointless to go through an exercise that would take up a lot of time so that the exact same two people would end up as captains. This year, the field is large and woolly, and is rumored to include Harriet Miers.

You know, if you think about it, this is just about the expiration date for Harriet Miers jokes. On to Slammin' Sammy jokes, I guess. You've got to love a judge who believes that men rule the home roost. (Is he married, does anybody know?)

This is a busy week, over all. Tonight, Bump meeting. Tomorrow, dinner with an old friend. Thursday, the War of the Roses. Friday, Little Lex. Such a busy social calendar. The big question is, will I find time to burn the disk with the Brazilian music I promised Burgers? The crowd quivers in antici-




















pation.