Reading week: Columbia’s two-minute warning

As finals approach I’m starting to hear those usual proclamations: “It’s crunch time,” “Welcome to the fourth quarter,” “We’re entering the homestretch,” “Let the games begin!”

What these worn-out adages all have in common is the fact that they all either directly or indirectly reference sports. Hearing these phrases made me think about the parallels between sporting events and the passing of an academic semester. After considering the topic, I’ve decided that an academic semester at Columbia is in many ways the metaphorical equivalent of a basketball game.

Think about this: The very beginning of the semester is practice (“I mean listen, we talkin bout practice. Not a game, not a game, not a game. We talkin bout practice,” as Allen Iverson says). Those first short answer responses you submit are like light cardio and weightlifting to get you ready for the game that awaits. You get acclimated to your class schedule (playbook), classmates (teammates), and workload (your opponent). Things are pretty casual during this time and expectations are high.

Midterms are when the game tips off. Either you come out strong or you come out playing flat. I’m sure that more than a few people on campus have left a midterm feeling dazed and confused. That’s the feeling you get when you get on the court and realize that the player guarding you is actually really athletic and strong. Nobody enjoys getting dunked on. Those moments make you snap back to reality.

Sometimes you make it through midterms unscathed and more confident than ever. There’s no better feeling than playing ball and realizing that the person guarding you simply can’t shut you down. At this point, either one of two things happens: 1) you increase the intensity and go for the jugular (e.g. Kobe Bryant or that kid in Econ who finishes all of his problem sets weeks in advance) or 2) you relax and bank on your talent allowing you to comfortably coast to victory (e.g. Vince Carter or that kid who waits until the morning of class to finish his problem set, because he thinks “I’ll be straight, I got an A on the midterm”). On the other hand, if you struggle through midterms (or realize that your opposition is stronger than you thought), this insight can cause you to take second half seriously.

Given that realization, you come out hard in the second half. You might as well leave everything you’ve got on the court. By “crunch time” (finals) you’re all nerves and adrenaline. You occasionally resort to the full-court press (all-nighters), make sure to expend all of your time-outs (study groups), and you consume Gatorade to prevent fatigue (coffee). While only one team can win (not everyone can get an A), there is still consolation in knowing that you played your hardest (hello Mr. B-Plus).

This column may have been a little abstract, but there is certainly no harm in a little bit of imaginative thinking. As I type this, I’m getting ready to leave my dorm (the locker room) and return to the library (the court). “Sigh…” December in Morningside Heights. There’s nothing like the homestretch.