Rock Steady

"Section 18" used to be on the books as a morals charge. Nowadays it would barely pass for disturbing the peace.

Watson Rink's Section 18 (which includes the band and section 19 as well) is Hah-vahd's answer to those collegiate snakepits such as Dartmouth's old Davis Rink, Clarkson Arena or Cornell's Lynah Rink. But instead of filling every seat in the house with maniacs, Watson Rink's collection of drunk-and-disorderlies, perverts and other rowdies congregate in the far end zone to concentrate on the enemy goalie during the first and third periods.

Flanked by the opposition cheering section on the right and the politely applauding Hah-vahd alums, parents and administrators on the left, Section 18 has historically been the rallying point for Crimson hockey fans, as well as a source of comic relief between periods.

But lately, Section 18 (except for a recently inspired Harvard band) has been about as funny as a Hum 103 section meeting, and about as inspiring as lunch in the Union.

It's hard to imagine that only two seasons ago, athletic director Robert Watson wrote the Crimson complaining, "There is a growing trend in college hockey today to support the home team with a vicious negative attack on the visitors. I am determined Harvard will not support its hockey team in this manner." He was referring to Section 18.

In response to Watson's alarm, a portion of sections 18 and 19 was roped off on December 5, 1973, for the game against Dartmouth, and heavy police supervision was maintained for those who did sit in the sections.

"Should the current trend continue," Watson concluded, "I will be forced to remove all students from Section 18."

Needless to say, Section 18 was not cleared completely. But though the students are still there, the qualities that once made Section 18 unique have disappeared.

Those qualities do not include throwing beer on opposing players or spitting on them, as happened at Dartmouth two years ago in that old garage that used to be passed off as a hockey rink (now replaced by modern Rupert Thompson arena). Nor do they include the type of behavior that took place at Cornell last month, when the fans threw dead fish, among other things, at the Harvard players.

The fan immaturity at Lynah Rink, in fact, caused the team to file an official complaint to the Athletic Department that could jeopardize future trips to Ithaca.

There is no place in college hockey for such behavior, but while the department's dragnet has succeeded in eliminating such vicious attacks at Harvard, it has also left Section 18 about as flat as a day-old pitcher of beer from Father's Six.

Not even a rubber chicken has made an appearance on the ice this season. When Harvard played Clarkson in the 1973 ECAC quarterfinals at Watson Rink, goalie Carl Piehl received a chicken fry worthy of Colonel Sanders himself. Section 18 once donated a live chicken to the Cornell net, but I'm told that such a stunt is not very funny, since a live chicken is likely to leave his mark on the ice.

Section 18 rowdies have not relied solely on the old "why did the chicken cross the ice" joke, or the old sieve gag that is used throughout the collegiate hockey realm.

They once brought an organ into Watson Rink. Not a John Kiley-approved Hammond X-66, mind you, but a tinny little portable organ that squeaked out such inspiration as "Hail Bertagna" (Joe Bertagna, former Harvard goalie) and other favorites. It didn't last long, but it was amusing while it was around.

One Section 18 rowdy climbed the ladder behind the old scoreboard and disappeared from sight for a few minutes. He reappeared over the top of the scoreboard in a gorilla suit and climbed to the ceiling, to an appreciative crowd.

But of all the stunts Section 18 has attempted, it is most famous for a guy known as "The Stripper." Between periods, the band would strike up its best David Rose imitation and "The Stripper" would go to work, shedding everything but his BVDs in chilling Watson Rink.

"The Stripper" was well received by the students, but not too well liked by the stuffier of Harvard's non-student hockey fans. He especially did not go over big with Harvard administrators when an article of his clothing once got caught in the Zamboni causing it to break down. Nothing like "The Stripper" has been seen in Watson Rink in years.

And nothing like the old Section 18 has been seen in Watson all season, which is too bad--it's been hard to find much funny about an 8-5 loss to Brown, a 5-4 loss to Dartmouth or a narrow 5-4 win over hapless Northeastern.

Pretty soon, "Section 18" won't even be a misdemeanor.