Room For Two

As the pair emerged from the shabby trailer housing the opponents’ locker room below the grandstands at Holy Cross’ Fitton Field after the Crimson’s season-opening win on Sept. 20, what little concern remained over the graduation of former standout wide receiver Carl Morris ’03 melted away in the late afternoon sunlight.

Junior wide receiver Brian Edwards, previously an unheralded underclassman buried near the bottom of the depth charts, had just burst onto the scene with seven catches for 152 yards and one score, dispelling concerns about Harvard’s potential lack of offense.

He stood outside, freshly-donned shirt and tie rapidly soaking up the sweat and water left after his breakout performance, searching for words to describe his feat.

For Edwards, no words would come. But for junior wide receiver James Harvey, Edwards’ roommate and best friend, the praise—half-serious, half-joking—began to flow thick and fast.

“It really was his coming out party,” Harvey says. “All the guys on the team knew how talented Brian was and that all he needed was a chance to prove himself.”

And as Edwards stood there, bashfully smiling while attempting to fly under the radar, there could be no doubt that he had done just that, with more than a little help from his friend.

But though the two now seem to be inexorably linked to one another, no one could have predicted that they would wind up best friends following their first encounter on a Harvard recruiting trip they both took prior to their freshman seasons.

“I just saw this scrawny kid and thought ‘he can’t be here for football,’” Harvey says. “‘He’s got to be here for another sport.’”

“I actually thought he was kind of a jerk,” Edwards fires right back.

But first impressions and Edwards’ eyebrow ring soon disappeared, and in their place a fast friendship quickly took root.

“It was really good to have someone you knew right before you even got there, not really knowing anybody,” Edwards says.

Working along side one another in drills, laboring away with little hope of seeing significant time on the playing field before sophomore year at least, the duo provided one another with the support and encouragement needed to continue on.

Not to mention excellent Halo partners.

After squaring off against one another dozens of times and establishing that they were, in fact, equally proficient at the space-based combat game, the two decided to pair up in multi-player modes and haven’t done otherwise since.

Even the suggestion that they compete against one another to see who is better is almost a personal affront.

“We don’t ever play against one another,” one quickly says.

“Never,” the other instantly echoes.

In fact, the two spend very little time at all doing much that doesn’t in some way involve the other.

“We don’t shower together,” Harvey says.

“Well, except after football games,” Edwards says, finishing the thought.

“We don’t sleep together.”

“But we do sleep in bunk beds.”

Yes, Edwards and Harvey have been through both the ordinary and the extraordinary together, from working out together to apple-picking with a pair of female friends.

Most frequently, however, they ensure that the mood on the football team remains upbeat by cracking jokes in the huddle and maintaining a less-than-serious attitude when appropriate.

“They’re always busting each others’ chops,” Harvard coach Tim Murphy says. “They challenge each other. Both kids have very quick dry wits and that’s something you might not necessarily know about them. But if you’re around them enough you realize that they both have a quick wit and they’re not hesitant to use it.”

And as Murphy notes, more often than not it is on one another.

“Brian’s actually two-dimensional when he turns sideways, because he’s so skinny,” says Harvey, who also writes for the Harvard Lampoon—a semi-secret Sorrento Square social organization that used to occasionally publish a so-called humor magazine. “That’s why the other teams can’t tackle him.”

“James is actually shaped kind of like a triangle,” Edwards responds. “If you look at him closely, his neck is freakishly long.”

But while the two are comfortable horsing around and playfully putting one another down, it is their dedication to one another that defines their friendship.

Although this year has been a breakout season for Edwards while Harvey has seen less action, the situation was not always so.

Last year it was Harvey who appeared to be primed to steal the receiving spotlight, supporting his friend while Edwards struggled for playing time.

“With Brian, the only reason he didn’t play a lot more a year ago was that James had picked up the more subtle points of the offensive system,” Murphy says. “Therefore [Harvey] was probably a little bit more dependable in the game to be where he was supposed to be, when he was supposed to be there. We knew that Brian was probably the better athlete in terms of speed and athleticism but I think that James matured a little bit quicker in terms of assimilating into our system.”

Though Edwards knew he would eventually have his chance, it was Harvey who helped keep his spirits high, opening the door to Edwards’ success this season.

With the system down pat and the opportunity to claim the top spot made available by Morris’ departure, Edwards has more that proved his mettle, wowing coaches during spring workouts as he paved the way for his increased production this season.

“He looked like he’d be running, just cruising, flying by people,” Murphy says. “He’s got his effortless kind of grace and speed that is not something you see everyday. That’s why sometimes he makes things look easy which are really quite difficult.”

Harvey offers a similar explanation.

“He just floats on the air, kind of like a gazelle,” he kids. “He looks like a boy out there, but he’s more like a man disguised as a boy.”

Regardless of the form he takes on the field, though, his competitive drive and desire to continue to prove himself continue to show up mid-game—particularly on punt returns.

“Brian’s got a little bit of a chip on his shoulder, the kind that really works well for our sport,” Murphy says. “He prides himself on being a tough guy. He’s one of those guys that, if someone’s gonna pick on him, they’re picking on the wrong guy. He is a tremendous competitor. He is a tough and intense kid. And that’s not always the nature of that position, wide receiver.”

But while that usually pays off in yardage for the Crimson, sometimes Edwards finds himself in trouble.

“We had a punt block on during a scrimmage in the spring,” Harvey recalls, “and Brian still wouldn’t call for a fair catch. We had to stop practice for 45 seconds just to peel the 10 guys off of him.”

Usually, however, it’s a sprint to the outside, a cut back towards the middle and then no trouble at all.

Harvey hasn’t been so lucky.

“James has gotten better every year and he’s one of those guys that if you challenge him with something, he’ll work on it and he’ll improve it,” Murphy says. “I think for him right now, he’s one of those guys who can be a complete player. He’s got good athletic ability, he catches the ball, he’s a very good blocker, he’s got size.”

And this season, at least, that has made the difference. While his friend leapfrogged him to progress into the top position on the depth chart, Harvey has struggled to make his presence felt on offense, averaging just 26.1 yards per game through the Crimson’s faceoff in New York against Columbia.

There, things went from bad to worse. On the astroturf of Wien Stadium, Harvey shredded his ACL while providing special teams coverage, both ending his season and casting a shadow of doubt over his return by spring practice.

With the roles reversed and Harvey the one watching on the sidelines, Edwards has slid right into his friend’s old role.

“I carry his tray at dinner because he has the crutches,” Edwards says, trying to put as positive a spin on the situation as possible. “I gave him the bottom bunk so he wouldn’t have to climb.”

Even with his injury, Harvey will be on the sidelines at the Yale Bowl as Edwards tries to help carry the depleted wide receiving corps. Chances are good that Edwards will sneak a look over to the bench and see that, despite the crutches, Harvey will still be making fun of him, imitating his two-dimensional run and inspiring the friend he helped get there.

—Staff writer Timothy J. McGinn can be reached at mcginn@fas.harvard.edu.