In the spirit of brotherhood, News editors hosted their Cantab peers in a friendly get-together last year on the eve of The Game. But this year, Crimson editors have gone into hiding. We expect little more from their football-playing peers.

This Saturday will mark the 125th time the Harvard and Yale football teams face off in a battle of strength, strategy and stamina. Even at Yale, an institution so steeped in ritual, The Game stands out as a testament to the importance of tradition.

For students, it is a time to celebrate and proudly wear our colors. For alumni, it is a time to reflect and take part, once more, in the moments that define these bright college years. For everyone — yes, even us lowly journalists — it is a time to take part in an age-old rivalry that has not only provided insight into our own shortcomings, but also inspired greatness through competition.

In this very spirit, the Yale Daily News hosted The Harvard Crimson last year at our humble quarters at 202 York Street. In recent years, it has become a tradition for the home newspaper to entertain its visitors, and thankfully so.

That night, we marveled at our similarities. We drank away our mutually held woes (who else would understand?). We bonded, and we danced atop our historic boardroom table — together.

Realizing, a year later, that it was time to travel to Cambridge, we were at once filled with excitement and curiosity. How does our other half live? Is the grass greener? But before we could daydream any further, we were unpleasantly surprised.

We did not receive an invitation from the Crimson. Instead, the 131st editorial board of the Oldest College Daily was denied — twice — what we naively thought was ours: a chance to mingle. Alas, fraught by their youthful sensibilities, our siblings at the Crimson have forgotten to respect their elders.

But that isn’t all.

Just over two weeks ago, a sports editor for Harvard’s daily rag boldly challenged Yale’s paper of record to a football match.“Let’s bring back the tradition that stood for so many years. The archives suggest that the Crimson-Daily News game was even televised for a number of years,” the editor wrote. “This year, let’s extend the rivalry beyond the hours of 12–3.”

Back home in New Haven, we chuckled. The Crimson’s editorial board currently outnumbers us 71 to 29. No matter, we thought. We would give our all for God, country and Yale.

We accepted their plea, but we should have known better. The mighty Crimson backed down from the fight. Or at least they never e-mailed us to actually set up a time to play, which is roughly as bad. (If this is any indication of what is to come on Saturday, The Game will be over before the tailgate begins.)

In short, dear Crimson, we are disappointed in you. Surely we may have expected this from the Princetonian or even the Spectator. Indeed, we’re not entirely sure our comrades at The Dartmouth know what football is. But we expected better from you.

We understand it is sometimes difficult to squeeze old friends into overbooked schedules, but to your spineless rejection of our camaraderie we say, simply, “You suck.”

We party harder than you do, anyway.