COLUMN: Palestra perfect for stress relief

From Lee Goldsmith's "Standing Room Only," Fall '95 Midterms. Research papers. And more midterms. Yes, it's that lovely time of year at the University of Pennsylvania when the sorority chic on your left somehow has 28 exams in four classes and the dweeb on your right is somehow going to fail despite that 3.99 GPA. You're probably wondering what this garbage is doing in the space where I usually pontificate on the power that is Penn basketball. So I'll tell you. Well, the midterm bug had made its way to the DP sports office. But I'm pretty confident my esteemed editors and I found a cure Tuesday night, and I'd like to share. The situation was simple. Esteemed editor #1 had a midterm exam. Esteemed editor #2 had a four-to-five page essay to write. Together, they had to work on the Independent Student Newspaper of the University of Pennsylvania so all of you could read about gymnastics, wrestling and Matt Maloney. As for yours truly, I had the same four-to-five page essay. I had a midterm exam of my own. Oh, and I had to write that story about Matt Maloney. The point is, we three athletic aficionados were swamped. There was not enough time to breathe, let alone accomplish anything. But we were not going to let academic stress rule our lives -- we had to take a stand. So we walked to the Palestra for the second half of the Temple-St. Joe's game. What better break from the pressure than an hour or so of heart-stopping, hair-raising Big 5 hoops in college basketball's most historic gym? The plan was set -- we would relax and enjoy the game, and find time to calmly do our work later. Well, it seemed logical to us. We had no tickets, but that didn't seem to matter. With Rick Brunson, Carlin Warley and a fired-up crowd waiting, we were determined to find a way inside. First came Plan A -- Operation Front Door. A quick peek into the Palestra cut that one short, with numerous Spectaguards still manning their turnstile posts. No problem. We just had to kick in Plan B -- Operation Hutch. Just swipe the ever-present Penncard and cross over to the Palestra concourse. Smooth as silk, until we were faced with a locked door. While pulling on that door, we heard the crowd cheering on the other side. It was the point of no return, and we would not be denied. Next was Plan C -- Operation Back Door. The man at the Hutch towel counter gave us an odd glance as we hustled down the hall. We frantically tried the back door into the concourse. Shunned again. Now things were getting complicated. And although we were starting to get nervous, our little quest for Big 5 basketball was becoming more and more fun. A crazy scalper tried to sell us on Plan D -- Operation Ticket Stubs. But we decided he was crazy and drunk and the stubs were tragically useless. It was time for drastic measures. It was time for Plan E -- Operation Smooth Talkin'. We entered the Palestra cool, calm and collected. The roar we heard told us the crowd was none of the above. We tried to explain our way past a Spectaguard, but he would have none of it. Not at his gate. So we asked to see his supervisor. The supervisor got tired of listening very quickly, and into the hallowed halls we went with 10 minutes left in the game. Jackpot. The game was scintillating, with the Hawks winning a typical Big 5 overtime thriller. It was yet another fantastic display of Philadelphia tradition. Completely satisfied, we left the Palestra and set out to get things done. No matter how the exams turn out this week, we'll always look back on Tuesday night and laugh. I guess that's the moral of the story. Not everyone loves basketball like I do, and I realize this. But we all need something to lighten things up. Study hard, but play hard too. Life's a lot better that way. Lee Goldsmith is a College junior from Huntingdon Valley and a sports writer for The Daily Pennsylvanian. He is also Dick Vitale's "guy." Standing Room Only appears alternate Thursdays.