To the Editor:

I entered Stanford as an undergraduate in the fall of 1997 and have never left. In the last eleven years, I’ve graduated, co-termed, worked as a staff member, started on a Ph.D and served as a TA for classes I once took. I’ve painted my face for football, been in 6th Man, been a yell leader and even (God forbid) written sports columns for The Daily. This qualifies me, I hope, as an official Grumpy Old Man.

As such, I read Daniel Novinson’s column today [“Sixth Man Shortage,” Mar. 6] with fond nostalgia. The piece is a thoughtful lament for the fading of Stanford’s culture of fanhood and fun. I love this lament and its pillars: these freshmen, they’re just so much dorkier than us seniors were! It is probably because of a plot by The Administration: to destroy parties, fire the Band, ban alcohol, close the Athletic Department and turn the school into a teetotaling MIT.

I love this lament because it is so familiar: it is what the Class of 2005 said about you, Class of 2008. And the Class of 2002 said it about the Class of 2005, and my own class, being precocious, said it about the Class of 2002. Somehow, though, this wailing has continued for eleven years, and the campus remains mysteriously full of humans as opposed to the inevitable pre-med-robot-frosh that seem to be our destiny.

It’s an easy lament to poke fun at, of course. One might conclude over time that this march towards dorkdom is a bit overhyped. Just possibly, the lamenters might be somehow motivated to argue that they alone are the peak of how cool Stanford has ever been.

I like another way of thinking about it, though, which Mr. Novinson might find acceptable: Maybe every year’s freshmen really are dorkier than the seniors. But maybe that’s because, if we’re lucky, we actually get less dorky by being at Stanford. Maybe all that this lamenting really means is that, somehow, you get cooler as you grow up. (Feel free to find my own Old Man motivation in that point of view.).

Jeff Cooper

Ph.D Candidate ‘09