Banding Together in Detroit

The Harvard hockey team is the best in the East.

That fact alone should be enough to encourage most Harvard students to trek to Bright Center to watch the Crimson in action. But some fans need a little more incentive...a little cheering in their lives. The best source of that excitement? The Harvard Band.

For some boosters, the Harvard Band is Harvard hockey. The red-jacketed ensemble, which prides itself more on its humorous cheers than its musical ability, has become an indispensable fixture at Harvard hockey games.

"I don't think the coach likes us too much because we disturb the players," says clarinetist Jennifer Brooks. "But without us, why go to the game at all? People come to the games to see the band."

The Harvard fans in the Motor City this weekend need not worry: the band--30 pieces strong--will be there. "I think we will be a unifying force in Detroit," says Band Manager Liz Page. "We can be a bridge between the fans who are already out there and the fans who have come from Harvard. We can pull them together with Harvard music and spirit."

But other group members have different ideas about the band's purpose in Detroit. They know the true reason for their presence is to humiliate the other teams and embarrass the opposing bands. Taunting cheers are the lifeblood of the Harvard musical corps.

"Michigan State is going to have 100 pieces, so we'll have to actually outdo them in terms of cheers," says Mark Kaufman. "In terms of wit, it will be no problem."

What about volume? "I don't think they know the meaning of the word 'sieve'," Kaufman answers.

Occasionally the band is censored, however. A few years ago, the Administration ordered the marching band to clean up its act because its halftime performances at football games were no longer choreographed in good taste.

Thus the band managers have not allowed suggestive cheers at hockey games such as "Hey Brown, the bad news is you're going down. The good news is, this time it's free." The reference, of course, is to allegations of prostitution occurring on the Providence campus.

But many witty taunts have made it past the censors. The highlight of the year's exclamations, agree most bandies, came during the Cornell game at Bright on February 14th. The score was 3-0, and as the game was ending, the band shouted "Hey Cornell, it's Valentine's Day and you can't score."

No witticisms have been written yet for the North Dakota game. Preparation would destroy the necessary spontaneity, say the bandies. But most hope that the Fighting Sioux band is ready to do battle for control of the crowd's funny bone.

"If there's another band, it's a lot of fun because we feed off each other," says Jeff Wolk. Because the Bruin band wasn't concerned with being funny, the game wasn't as interesting. "They just yelled obscenities back instead of trying to outdo us. We'd come up with a good cheer and they'd just drown it out with their stupid catcalls," Wolk says.

But the "essence" of the Harvard Band, says Wolk, "is not caring that people don't notice we're there."

But how could you miss them?