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Show 21, Jeffries, Islamorada your Michigans and, and well of course your Penn States, we go into that pressure cooker-" "Wow," Dorian had cut in, "that is almost too much to expect of a coach, if there's more than one University of Michigan." Baschnagel the high-school All-American tried to suppress his giggle into a cough. Dorian saw the dim lamps in the eyes of Coach Woody Hayes flicker and go out, and on the instant, with a little cat-quick move that maybe only the athletes could catch, Woody started like he was going to come across the table at him. "Yeah okay you two generals, but Dad-" "A writer, then? Are you getting anything published?" "Well, you see, there's what you call a declining market for fiction. . ." "Okay, no more regular Saturday Evening Post, but there's a lady down at work, makes pin money writing verse, wait here I got you the address: Norcross Cards, West Chester, Pa.-" "Really." "Or your professional magazines-some of those teaching ideas you came up with, of course you've pretty well disqualified yourself from that. . ." "Uh-huh." |