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It’s 2 AM. You’re out on the street, having a great time, a couple cups in, talking to a group of cool people. You ask about classes, friends, hobbies, and interests – when suddenly, the subject of sports comes up.

Oh no. Act cool.

You listen to your new, beer-induced buds drag on about what team they play on – varsity lacrosse! Water polo! Soccer! Football!

When suddenly, they all turn to you.

“So what about you? Do you play a sport here?”

You freeze. You gulp. You breathe out slowly and reply –

“Uh, no. I don’t.”

The world stops, and everything seems to go down in slow motion. You analyze your new friends’ faces. You can tell, by the slight smirk developing on their faces, that they’re about to hit you with that line – the slightly condescending, slightly mocking line that, at this point, you’ve heard countless times before.

“Oh, so you’re a NARP.”

Uh oh.

Suddenly, an insane cloud of guilt and shame surrounds you. You want to run for the bathroom and never look back. You want to run to Terrace and hide in one of the pot-smoke-filled rooms that comprise the maize that eating club is. No, you’re not an athlete at Princeton. No, you’re not on a varsity team. You were just never good enough at sports! But you swear, YOU’RE NOT A NARP!

Back in high school, this was never an issue. Back in high school, you were in on the whole NARP joke. Now you’re one of them. How’d you get here? Why couldn’t God bless you with the genes to make you a super-human, extremely gifted athlete who could get recruited by a school like Princeton? Why is your life so hard? What have you done to deserve this?

You smile shakily. What can you do to redeem yourself from this? How can you reply and successfully detract from the situation?

“Uh, yeah, sure.

Anyone wanna go grab something to drink?”

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