I spent part of this past weekend at Tubby Raymond Field, scene of the most important segment of the graduation ceremonies for my son from the University of Delaware, "U.D." to its friends. By now I must number among them, given the amount of my limited personal wealth that has passed into its coffers over the past four years.

U.D. is located in Newark, Del. I learned this weekend that the name of the town is pronounced "New-ARK," as in Noah's ark, which caused me to reflect on the genesis of the name. Did someone have in mind the kind of mad diversity that the university's current polyglot student body reflects?

The stadium is named after U.D.'s famed football coach, who ended 35 years there with a 300-199-3 record.

The town's merchants were ready for the event. Its most convenient hotel, the Marriott, had hiked its prices substantially and required bookings of at least two nights. On the other hand, the students were polite and charming. Some had actually put out signs saying, "Thanks, Mom and Dad!" There was no irony at all in the whole affair.

The graduates at Tubby Raymond were garbed in blue robes, which stood out against the green grass -- or was it astro-turf? -- of the stadium. One of the friends of my ex-wife, my son's mother, in response to her wry comment that The Graduate would be only a blue speck, pointed out helpfully that he would be, however, her blue speck. In the event, Michael was easy to find since he sat next to his housemate, who is tall with long dreadlocks.

The robes were blue because Delaware's colors are blue and gold. Its mascot is the Blue Hen. One of the honorary degree recipients, former U.D. President David P. Roselle, was described in his citation as a "proud champion of Blue Hen spirit." Because they made me sit in the stadium for hours while the sky threatened rain, I found myself picturing Dr. Roselle cackling, clucking, strutting around his office, perhaps laying an occasional administrative egg.

While the thousands of graduates processed, a recording cycled and recycled Sir Edward Elgar's "Land of Hope and Glory," more formally, "Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1 in D major." Duh, duh, dee-dee-dee duh, duh. I like it, but not that many times.

Mr. Elgar died rich from the royalties in 1934, his public appearances limited at the end by crowds of music-lovers seeking revenge after having heard "Land" 63 times in a row. The recessional was the theme from Masterpiece Theatre, the Rondeau from Jean-Joseph Mouret's "Symphonies and Fanfares for the King's Supper," which covered only the exit of the stage party.

While waiting for the ceremony to begin, to fight the paralysis settling into my lower limbs from the aluminum bench-seats, I studied the program. Confirming my worse neo-fascist suspicions, many of the PhDs were being awarded to people who had "different" names, having done their previous studies at universities such as Panjab, Bogazici, Chongqing and Ain Shama, although there were enough graduates of more conventional centers of learning with football teams for me to decide not to alert any of the presidential candidates who might be in need of a xenophobic talking point.

The most comforting moment came when I noticed that one of the PhD theses had dealt with trout fishing in Delaware. All is not lost on the American college campus, at least in Delaware.

Our commencement speaker was former Baltimore Oriole Iron Man, shortstop and third-baseman and now Mid-Atlantic state philanthropist Cal Ripken Jr. He told us that this was his first-ever commencement address. Mr. Ripken's talk was short, simple and quite eloquent. He started by telling us he had not attended college, but that he wanted to talk about the choices and challenges facing the graduates.

He presented three points that he said he had found to be effective precepts to live by. First, find a career that is a passion. His father had been his mentor and helped him to do that. Second, persevere to become the best at it. To believe that one could do that was to make oneself optimistic about life. Third, be a good person. Choices and challenges. Good stuff.

That's what we were all there to believe, as parents, family and friends of the graduates. That our blue speck, our Blue Hen, our son Michael was now ready after four years at U.D. to tackle these choices and challenges. I am certainly ready to believe.

At the end of the show at the stadium, virtually no one knew the alma mater, eight appallingly rhymed lines that ended with "stand," "hand," "bear" and "Delaware." Fortunately, the senior members of the university's a cappella singing groups and the University Chorale got us through it. I was going to stand for the anthem but a lady behind me told me that you could stand for it only if you had attended U.D.

There was some closure in the day. I finished up my son's four years of study at Delaware liking the school and believing that he had acquired a good education there. I felt bad about the fact that I hadn't visited him at U.D. more often, but the one football game we went to featured nonstop rain and lots of mud.

Tubby Raymond Field has no covered seating. Tubby, you devil.