An Ugly Afternoon

Let's face it--we didn't deserve to win.

Saturday's Harvard-Yale Game had to rank near the bottom of the 115 annual contests in excellence on the field. The Elis, who had rebounded from a winless 1997 Ivy season to come in with a 4-2 Ivy record, looked hapless on offense, gaining just 10 total yards in the first quarter. The Crimson's offense looked equally futile, unable to reach the end zone or kick one through the goalposts in the Game's first 30 minutes. At halftime, we were on our feet cheering the Crimson because it was, indeed, an accomplishment to have prevented a superior Bulldog squad from taking the lead.

In the second half, the Harvard offense awakened just a bit. With just over five minutes left in the third quarter, quarterback Rich Linden and running back Damon Jones combined for 71 yards on 12 plays. It took three plays at the goal line to get the pigskin into the end zone. But when Linden was pushed across the line of scrimmage by two Harvard linemen, 10,000 men and women of Harvard had reason to stand and scream.

Yet the good times were not to last. Harvard fought its way back, with victory in its eyes. But the offense could not get the job done. Jones was rebuffed one yard shy of the end zone and Mike Giampaolo failed to convert a 19-yard field goal that, ultimately, would have made the difference. Having made it so close to going up by 14 and then coming away empty-handed, every Harvard fan in the stadium may have had an inkling that trouble was in store.

Those premonitions seemed to come true when the Bulldogs scored on a nine-yard touchdown pass in the fourth. But senior Joe Weidle kept hope alive for Harvard by blocking the extra point--occasioning the return of "safe-ty school" and "kid-die porn" chants on the Crimson side of the field.

But on the return of the kickoff following the Yale touchdown, Damon Jones ran out-of-bounds, giving Harvard the ball on the 8-yard line. It was clear then that the fans' optimism would be short-lived. Three plays later, Linden decided to run with the ball in search of a first down. Running may not have been such a bad decision--the quarterback seemed to be throwing to no one in particular all afternoon. But Linden didn't just run; he ran right into a Yale cornerback. He could have slid, could have avoided the defense, but that has never been his style. And when the ball popped out of his hands, only to be recovered by a gleeful Eli, The Game was lost for good.

A field goal sealed the Crimson's fate, and as the seconds ticked away, we fans had to face the facts: It was over. We had lost. This time, for the first time in four years, it would be the Yalies who would storm the field. This time, we would be the ones to leave the stadium with eyes lowered and spirits shattered.

But for most of us, the pain didn't last too long--at least not long enough to prevent us from celebrating Saturday night. Perhaps we have alcohol to thank for the quick dissipation of our pain. Or perhaps we could simply be thankful that the score had been as close as it had. Even those fans who had not read a word about the team all year could tell that this year's team didn't match the professionalism of earlier squads. They may have statistically outperformed the Elis, but we just didn't make the plays we needed to win.