Icemen: Still a Stride Away

The sound of silence filled the Harvard hockey team's lockerroom after Saturday's exasperating 4-4 overtime tie with Yale. You could call it a "comeback," I suppose--the Crimson had trailed by three goals--but that wasn't much solace for the icemen or their fans who filed out silently at the final buzzer.

The "tie"--a euphemism for yet another angst-producing "moral defeat"--quietly killed any dreams of post-season play that may have survived last Wednesday's crushing sudden-death loss to Dartmouth. Now 6-10-3 in ECAC Division 1 play (7-12-3 overall, in 13th place, five spots out of the playoffs, Harvard can finish at best with an 8-10-3 record if they knock off St. Lawrence and Clarkson on the road this weekend.)

Maine, currently clinging to the coveted number eight position, has completed its first Division 1 schedule at 10-11-1. The Black Bears can now sit back, like Tom Weiskopf in the clubhouse after 18 holes, and wait to see if Cornell can defeat Providence and B.U. to slip into the tournament. (B.C., Providence, Dartmouth, Vermont, Clarkson, RPI and Colgate, in order, have already qualified.)

But for Harvard, the waiting is over. Much of the ECAC would have been shocked to find the youngster-dominated Crimson with nine starting freshmen, and only four seniors made it into the final eight, but not the team itself. Game after game, with a few exceptions, Harvard at worst matched its opposition check for check and shot for shot, but failed to administer the anxiously awaited coup de grace.

Watching the plays that just didn't click, the leads that were agonizingly frittered away, the errant passes and shots, you could hear the post-mortems even as the patient lapsed into a coma. The 5-3 loss at Princeton, when Harvard aimed (or misaimed) nearly 50 shots on goal. The blown 3-0 Beanpot advantage over B.C. The see-saw battles in New Haven and Hanover.

And finally, year one of the Bright Brigade ends in a "tie" against the already-eliminated Elis. Yale dominated the early going, jumping out to 3-0 and 4-1 margins, and appeared to be on the verge of pulling away. Three Crimson goals in seven minutes evened things up again going into the third, and set the stage for the dramatic deciding tally that would make the afternoon complete.

But, two disallowed red-lighters, a couple of muffed breakaways, and three third-period power-plays notwithstanding, it didn't happen. And--one more time--Billy Cleary repeated the now-familiar litany: "Jeez, the boys played well after the first period, and we had plenty of chances, but we just missed our opportunities. The name of the game is putting the puck in the net, and that's what we have to do."

Easy to say, hard to do. Cleary is now experimenting with his lines and power-play combination, searching for that Shangri-La offensive, but likely as not he won't find it. When Harvard performs well, it usually does so as a unit; and when it comes out flat, the blame can be almost equally spread.

Unlike its immediate predecessors, a mish-mash of veterans and youngsters, the 1979-80 version of Crimson hockey played as a unit. And every member of the unit knows it could have, and should have, more to show than 13th in the standings and a year of "almosts."

A team contented with its own performance isn't likely to improve; Harvard hasn't fallen into that trap. Billy Cleary and his players satisfied everyone's expectations but their own this season. And that's a good sign for next year.