第21部分(第1页)
wanted his son to follow in his footsteps。 George; who felt no burning call to
do anything else; was willing。 His grades were not top end; but this was; after
all; only prep school and it was still early times。 If should be came to must
be; his father could pull some strings。 Georges own athletic ability would open
still other doors。 But Brian Hatfield thought his son should get on the debate
team。 It was good practice; and it was something that law…school admissions
boards always looked for。 So George went out for debate; and in late March Jack
cut him from the team。
The late winter inter…squad debates had fired George Hatfields petitive
soul。 He became a grimly determined debater; prepping his pro or con position
fiercely。 It didnt matter if the subject was legalization of marijuana;
reinstating the death penalty; or the oil…depletion allowance。 George became
conversant; and he was just jingoist enough to honestly not care which side he
was on—a rare and valuable trait; even in high…level debaters; Jack knew。 The
souls of a true carpetbagger and a true debater were not far removed from each
other; they were both passionately interested in the main chance。 So far; so
good。
But George Hatfield stuttered。
This was not a handicap that had even shown up in the classroom; where George
was always cool and collected (whether he had done his homework or not); and
certainly not on the Stovington playing fields; where talk was not a virtue and
they sometimes even threw you out of the game for too much discussion。
When George got tightly wound up in a debate; the stutter would e out。 The
more eager he became; the worse it was。 And when he felt he had an opponent dead
in his sights; an intellectual sort of buck fever seemed to take place between
his speech centers and his mouth and he would freeze solid while the clock ran
out。 It was painful to watch。
〃S…S…So I th…th…think we have to say that the fuh…fuh…facts in the c…case Mr。
D…D…D…Dorsky cites are ren…ren…rendered obsolete by the ruh…recent duh…duh…
decision handed down inin…in 。。。 〃
The buzzer would go off and George would whirl around to stare furiously at
Jack; who sat beside it。 Georges face at those moments would be flushed; his
notes crumpled spasmodically in one hand。