By Carter Krusz ’20
How am I still alive? I was just minding my business during Friday night study hall, struggling to get through my 200-word English essay, and the next thing I know there are crazed boys in face paint yelling outside my dorm. The jumpsuits were yelling for us new boys to get in chapel attire and line up outside. Wishing I had gone to the bathroom on dorm, I was lined up with my fellow black-tied brethren as we marched with military-like precision. As we arrived at the first tee, I saw what I can confidently say was the greatest amount of testosterone and adrenaline in one place at one time. We had some pretty exciting pep rallies in the middle school where the cheerleaders were 13 and had pom-poms. I was completely out of my element as I watched the whole circus in shock. Relieved, I retreated back to my damp, grimy dorm, grateful to be under the Iron Fist of Luke Blundin, who stuck eleven of us for up after lights out in one night. I’d be surprised if I survive until next Friday.