Plays I Will Not Forget

O'er the stands of flaming Crimson Harvard banners fly

Cheer on cheer like volleyed thunder Echoes to the sky

See, the Crimson tide is turning Gaining more and more

Then fight, fight, fight for we win tonight

Oh, it's Harvard forevermore --Soldiers' Field

I went to the bank to get some money before taking the long walk to Harvard Stadium to watch my last home football game as an undergraduate.

The last cold-scented Saturday afternoon I would walk through the brick-and-iron gate with that copper "1" adorning it.

The last time I would see the red flag with a white "H" flapping in the often-substantial breeze atop the Stadium's colonade.

The last time I would sit in that U-shaped wind tunnel.

I brought extra money to the Pennsylvania game last Saturday because I hadn't bought any game souvenirs in my four years. But it wasn't because I hadn't had any other kinds of souvenirs--the kind which come out of the French translation of "souvenir"--remembrance.

There was the first game I ever saw against Cornell, where the real stars were the two marching bands chanting at each other across the field.

My first Yale game where we just couldn't stop the Elis' running attack and lost by three points in the final minutes.

That cold, wet day against William & Mary when Brian White threw a left-handed two-point conversion to put us in the game.

And in that same game, on fourth and 30, White fumbled the ball and it was picked up by an offensive lineman who, damn the torpedoes, lumbered full speed ahead. I had delusions of "The Longest Yard" and Dean Steinkuhler in mind, but we turned the ball over on downs.

I remember Rob Steinberg attempting a punt against a horrific Princeton rush; they had sent everybody. The punt would have been blocked--except Steinberg kicked the ball where nobody could get it, netting a 33-yd. punt which looked like an Astro-Turf single.

Later in the same game, Steinberg made a soccer-style slide tackle on a muffed punt snap for a safety. I thought it was a great play, preventing the Tigers from scoring six points. But on the ensuing free kick, Princeton made that runback. The final score was a rugby-like 11-6.

The next year, there was the time when we went through three and-a-half games without scoring, one of which was the game when Holy Cross and Mr. Lockbaum graced our presence.

And that cold, wet day when UMass and Harvard engaged in what looked like a low-scoring version of Australian Rules Football. UMass had an offensive lineman for a kicker, Harvard had many turnovers, and the fans all went under cover.

That year I remember when I relished the opportunity to nab the salt and pepper shakers to show my Adams House eating companions how predictable the Multiflex was under the quarterbacks we had that year.

Except for Tom Yohe.

He made the Yale Game and the season all worthwhile.

That Was Then, This Is Now

This year, I'll remember that overcast day when Neil Phillips made that sensational touchdown catch against Bucknell.

The many times when Yohe eluded Big Green defenders time after time to hit our Steve Largent clone, Brian Barringer.

That zany play this past weekend when a Penn player tried to kick the ball Steinberg-style into the end zone and recover it--and I was the only one in the stands who had the benefit of instant replay and knew what the heck was going on.

So this year, we're closer than ever to an outright Ivy League title.

But I still had no material souvenirs representing four years of football-gazing when the final gun sounded.

So I stopped at a vendor's shopping cart on the way out of the stadium and gazed into the cart trying to find something out of the ordinary.

I settled on a Nerf football.

Why? No reason. I just wanted something in which I could funnel all my memories.

A crimson-and-white Nerf football with "Harvard" written on it may not seem to be a worthwhile souvenir for four years of fandom, but buying it after my last home game gives it more significance than anything.