HARVARD ULTIMATE FRISBEE LIVES

It was deathly silent on the bus about one year ago as the Harvard ultimate frisbee team rode from Binghampton, N.Y. back to Cambridge.

And why not? After two long years of practice and competition, of straining to cover their men and to lunge for the disc--after two years of living the sport--the senior-laden team had just lost its last opportunity to qualify for the national collegiate championships, losing to rival Wesleyan, 17-15 in overtime, in the regional finals.

When Wesleyan scored the winning point, the dream had ended. Nationals were gone.

"Yeah, it was pretty grim on the bus coming back to Harvard that night," junior Daryl Norcott says now.

"We had been really good for the past two seasons, and even though we might have been a little better [the year before], we expected to go to Nationals more last year."

Norcott, who is now one of the co-captains of the Harvard ultimate frisbee club, was one of the players who stood on the wellworn field that April as the last, painful point was scored. And the memory still bites.

Outsiders might find it strange that such passions could be aroused by a sport that most people associate only with carefree intramurals and California.

Ultimate frisbee? they might ask. Why do those guys take it so seriously?

But anyone who has played the game can attest to its pure fun and to the friendships it engenders. And, according to junior Co-Captain Enver Kasimir, the ability to leave Cambridge on a regular basis.

"The travel is definitely a big part of it," Kasimir says. "Just getting out, seeing new places and meeting people is why I do it."

Of course, as with all other activities at Harvard, there's the element of personal satisfaction that comes from achieving excellence.

"I get a rush when I've worked really hard to get in shape and to practice, and then we get to a tournament and play well as a team," Norcott says.

In many ways (although purists might gag at the comparison) members of the ultimate frisbee team are like those of crew: They toil long hours in anonymity, running down the Charles River and up the Stadium stairs when no one else is around.

They sacrifice their weekends to play in tournaments along the East Coast, often footing the transportation and competition costs themselves. And don't think that they aren't aware of the sacrifices.

"Obviously, the obstacles are discouraging, but people who do play somehow decide in their head that this is something that they want to devote themselves to," Norcott says.

Eight freshmen joined the ultimate frisbee team this year. That's more than a lot of men's varsity sports can boast. Like all of their older teammates, those eight freshmen dragged themselves out of bed for early-morning workouts throughout the long Cambridge winter.

Every Tuesday and Thursday mornings, while most of their classmates tried to catch a few hours of rest from the ever-present demands of school, the members of the team trekked across campus to practice on the top floor of the Malkin Athletic Center.

"I remember the janitors would let us in, because no one else was around [at that hour]," sophomore Corny Howland says.

And so, with the rest of the MAC dark and empty, the squad went to work on the top floor. Practicing throws, running drills and scrimmaging five-on-five (because the gym floor wasn't big enough to accommodate a full game) the team prepared for its spring season.

So Far...

Unfortunately, preparation hasn't meant success for the young, rebuilding Harvard squad.

Over Spring Break, Harvard traveled down to UNC-Wilmington for the National College Eastern Championships, then up to the University of Virginia for a scrimmage, and finally to Washington, D.C., for another tournament.

Harvard--which hadn't even played outside much--withered a bit against the top-level competition. As Kasimir delicately put it, "the team hadn't quite gelled yet."

The very next weekend, the team went to Princeton for an Ivy League tournament but shockingly, only six players showed up. Seven are needed for a game, and Harvard was essentially forced to play shorthanded for most of the weekend. An angry Norcott and Kasimir called a team meeting in the middle of last week to voice their frustrations and call for renewed commitment.

"They laid it out on the table and pretty much asked how seriously we were going take (the activity)," Howland said. "They made it clear that wanted us to be more dedicated."

Last weekend, 16 newly energized players (almost too many to establish a consistent rotation) showed up for the team's tournament at Yale.

The Crimson still couldn't get over the hump, however, as it finished third in its four-team pool. Only the top two teams advanced to the second day of play.

A disappointment, without a doubt.

"The team came together a little more, but we had a tough loss to Tufts in the first round, and after that I knew that we weren't going to advance," Kasimir says.

Characteristically, though, after coming back early last Saturday night, the players decided to meet on Sunday afternoon for an extra practice.

"It was to make up for the games that we felt should have been playing at Yale," freshman Alex Berzofsky says.

The team refuses to give up despite its inexperience and poor record so far. It will play in a tournament at UMass-Amherst tomorrow, then at Maine the next weekend, and then it will host sectionals on May 9.

Beyond that, the Crimson can look forward to next season, when it will return every player from this year's team.

Maybe then, when Norcott and Kasimir will be seniors, Harvard can return to its recently lost position of prominence.

Maybe the Crimson can even qualify as one of the final 12 teams in College Nationals.

Maybe the next bus ride back won't be so quiet.