While myths associated with Widener, Memorial Hall and the Union run rampant, very few of us are aware that the deepest darkest, most fearsome secrets here at Harvard lurk in--The Quad. In order to penetrate the compendium of riddles, the pandora's box of mystery, the den of debauchery we know and love to be the Quad, I decide to investigate one of the truly remarkable institutions here at Harvard: the Q-RAC.

Not being the exercise type myself though, I ask around. Perhaps Matt Boyle '94, seasoned veteran of the Quad, knows. "Well, that's an interesting question," says Boyle. "What most people don't know is that the Q-RAC used to be called the QRALC: Quality Recreation at Low cost. It's kind of like ZEBCO, the fishing pole maker, you know, the Zero Error Bomb Corporation. The Q-RAC used to make bombs in World War II." Edified, I probe deeper.

"Yes, it's true." says Chris Kagay, '94, another knowledgeble Quadling. "In fact, the Manhattan Project used the squash courts to build the first fission reactor. Of course, at that time it was at the University of Chicago."

Rumor has it many tutors have been seen in the vicinity. Are there strange doings afoot?

"Well there is a problem with punkism at the Q-RAC." says kagay. "A lot of these twelfth-year graduate-student types start realizing that they're not going to make the NBA, or the Ph.D. for that matter, and they take it out on you. Mostly handchecking."

Continues Kagay, "The chief punks are these two little guys from North House. I would just like to say to them: Dear two short tutors. I am taller than you. I am better than you. The only reason you win our basketball games is because you keep going through my legs."

Does the Q-RAC turn mild-man-nered tutors into vicious hand-checking punks?

Hitesh Hathi, Cabot House tutor in Sanskrit and Classics, declines to speculate on this issue but notes that in his first interview for the position, the Cabot Tutor Selection Committee asked him whether he could play hockey. He responded no. He almost didn't get the job.

Perhaps it is glory-hungry house administrators who turn our tutors into IM-animals. "No way," says the checker at the Q-RAC desk. "There is absolutely no connection. If anything the tutors who come here are either underfed or overweight."

This view was corroborated by a student playing basketball on the court. "When I see tutors who approach me to play I think 'Cool. Old, unathletic men.'" Adds another North House student, "Whenever I see people here at the Q-RAC who look old, flabby and decrepit, I immediately assume they must be tutors."

But looks can be deceiving. Two Quad students have this story to share:

"One day at the Q-RAC, there were these three short old people who asked us to play basketball. We thought, `Hey. Maybe if we play them, we'll win.' However...we didn't realize that basketball was played very differently in the old world."

These same two students offer a word of advice before walking off: If you see two short tutors--both around five feet tall--with a little guy friend, stay away. They can shoot.

My attempt[t to uncover the latest Whitewater scandal appears fruitless. And yet, a reporter of my caliber--one who discovered nothing less than the trend of jester hats at Harvard--cannot rest there. Indeed, I had another lead.

The Q-RAC: Spiritual Mecca.