Taking It to the House: A Fond Farewell

Ok, so you know that episode of the HBO show “The Wire” where Avon Barksdale says to Marlo Stanfield, “It’s
By H. max Huber

Ok, so you know that episode of the HBO show “The Wire” where Avon Barksdale says to Marlo Stanfield, “It’s all in the game” to describe the complications and stresses inherent in being a kingpin in the Baltimore drug trade? If you have no idea what the crap I’m talking about, The Wire, aka the sweetest show ever, is about crime and policing in the age of post-industrial urban decay, and the characters traditionally say “all in the game” to describe the triumphs, defeats and harsh realities of operating in the criminal underworld. Sort of like “that’s life” or “shit happens, bra” but cooler.

Now bear with me, because I think that this phrase has deep meaning for us as Harvard students as well. You know what? You’re going to have to bear with me, because I’m the one writing this Endpaper, and if you don’t, you won’t have anything to read and you’ll look unpopular if you’re in the dining hall by yourself right now. BURNED!!!

Anywho, I think one of the most important things I’ve picked up here in the 02138, something I’ll carry with me all my life, is how to put a positive, life-affirming twist on this maxim of “all in the game” and live by that motto. As we close out this school year, it is my humble hope that this knowledge will be enriching for your life as well. Here’s an added bonus: inserting the phrase, “yo it’s all in the game” into your conversations, accompanied by a ruggedly philosophical facial expression and an easy shrug of the shoulders, will make you seem effortlessly cool. Try it right now! See? Pretty sweet. No need to thank me.

Navigating the tricky waters of the Harv can be tough. It’s for sure got its ups and downs, baby, its strikes and gutters. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes you’re the Louisville slugger, sometimes you’re the ball. Sometimes Drew Faust gives you lemons, and you try to make lemonade, but you realize that the ice machine in the dining hall is turned off, and so you have lukewarm lemonade. That sucks.

For me, Harvard has been a place that involves high risk and high reward. What I mean by that is, you are confronted on a daily basis with opportunities put yourself out there, go for the gold, or stick your proverbial neck out.

And sometimes, that neck gets bitten by a vampire, and we’re talking tough-ass vampires that are much scarier than the vampires in stupid Twilight. Every time you write a paper, try out for an activity, or play a game of beer pong on a Tuesday night, you open yourself up to the possibility of not succeeding. Maybe you get smacked with the devilish B-/C+ on that paper, or forget your lines at the play tryout and feel like a doofus in front of some stylish actor-types, or worse, lose so bad at pong that you have to take a naked lap through Mather courtyard.

Bad news bears, right? Well I’m here to say this. Maybe not bad news bears. Maybe okay news bears. You wanna know why? Because failure is “all in the game” baby.

I really think we might do well to take a minute, just sit right there, I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air.

Wait no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say, I really think we might do well to take a minute and relax about the possibility and inevitability of screwing up every once in a while. Harvard is a competitive place, and we like to avoid showing our faults if we can. But the reality is, when you take advantage of the good aspects of this school and lead an involved life, there will be times things don’t work out as hoped for. But it doesn’t make sense in the face of failure to simply shut off and retreat, because you know what? The game was meant to be played. Looking back on my time here, I’m really thankful that the game exists at all, that Harvard, even though it hasn’t always been easy, offers so many chances to take those risks and have some adventures.

Let’s look at a brief case study. Last weekend it was sunny—a grand day for a soccer game. Enter the cast of characters: Walter “Waltburger” Howell, Matt Sundquist aka Butt Buttquist aka BBQ, Clem “Nickname” Wright, and Yours Truly. We were just runnin’ around soccering, or as the Europeans say, “footballing” when Walter and Clem accidentally collided knee-to knee in an unbridled explosion of full contact dude-ness.

BAM! Walt was on the ground, obviously in a bunch of pain. His knee had gotten smacked pretty good. Now, at this point, a lesser man might have lashed out at Clem for his role in having facilitated the collision. But no. There was no blame to be placed here, no mud to sling. Walty understood that knee collisions where a very real possibility in a heated game of shirtless soccer, and after a brief string of profanity immediately following the event, the ferocious competitors were reconciled. We all continue to be good friends to this day. That’s “all in the game” mentality in action. DEAL WITH IT.

These college dayz have been a wild ride. I want to thank my parents, my sister, my friends (you know who you is!), “The Wire”, Peet’s Coffee, my teachers, and Jamison and Asli for letting me rant one last time in their otherwise highly professional and awesome publication. Stay frosty, Harvard, and remember, it’s all in the game, baby. PEACE, I’M OUT!



H. Max Huber ’09 is an English concentrator in Mather House. He prefers to be called Hans.

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