One Final Edit: To Take the ‘I’ Out of Article

These stories are not about me:

In May 2007, the Harvard softball team drew regional host Hofstra for its opening game of the NCAA Tournament and sent newly minted Ivy League Pitcher of the Year Shelly Madick to the circle. With one beatable team and one powerhouse joining them in the round-robin, picking up a W against the Pride would be the key to the Crimson advancing in the tournament.

Madick, dueling with Hofstra’s ace, cruised through the first three frames allowing only one hit before surrendering a go-ahead solo homer in the bottom of the fourth. Later in the fourth, Madick took a line drive off her left leg, her plant leg, so hard that it caromed into left field for a double. Although she worked out of the jam, Madick was never quite the same. But she gritted her teeth and the defense made some nice plays behind her. After Harvard eked out a 2-1 lead in the top of the seventh, Madick had the Pride down to its final strike in the bottom half. A dramatic home run forced extra innings and a third solo homer into the wind tunnel down the left-field line gave Hofstra the win—and Madick the loss—in the ninth.

Perhaps no one but Madick will ever know how much the leg bruise affected her in the latter stages of that NCAA game. Only a few people witnessed the pitcher limp into the post-game press conference with a big bag of ice strapped to her leg and no excuses. She credited Hofstra’s sluggers and blamed herself for missing pitches. Then she limped off.

She came back the next day to hurl seven innings of one-run ball as the Crimson was eliminated from the playoffs in a 1-0 loss.

***

The 124th playing of The Game this November was full of memorable on-field images. Visiting Harvard demolished previously unbeaten and heavily favored Yale, 37-6, to claim the Ivy title. Quarterback Chris Pizzotti had a huge day and the Crimson defense stymied a juggernaut Yale running game. Lost in the blowout to all but the most informed of Harvard fans was that senior cornerback Steven Williams’ third-quarter pickoff—with the score already 30-zip—gave him the all-time school record for interceptions.

As most of the 57,000-plus in attendance concentrated on the action on the field or their conversations in the bleachers, one partisan was on a different mission. A joyous woman in a replica No. 2 Williams jersey came barreling down the aisle, intent on reaching the first row. And there was Steven waiting for her, detached from the mass of uniforms on the sideline for a moment, looking into the stands, the record-breaking interception ball held aloft. Smiling from ear to ear, she took the ball and danced back up the steps, accepting scattered congratulations and applause from the nearby crowd.

***

For a feature piece, senior second baseman Griff Jenkins was asked about adjusting to New England as a native North Carolinian. After comparing the weather and the baseball styles of the two regions, Jenkins segued into a more personal testimonial:

“It was a huge change for me coming to this school. Coming from the South and coming from a Southern Baptist tradition and coming from just the kind of conservative background that I come from, coming here was definitely an eye-opening experience. I think it was good for me because it did open my eyes and it did make me a little more aware of everything that was out there, other than what I had been told all my life. I still believe nearly everything that I was told growing up but now at least I know why and it’s more my belief system than it is something that my parents or my school taught me. So I think it’s been an adjustment but it’s been a great thing. And I can’t imagine having gone anywhere else.”

Jenkins’ musing was as unprovoked as it was profound, and it amounted to a ringing endorsement of a Harvard education.

***

This final sports column is usually reserved for the author’s nostalgic, sentimental reflections on his or her collegiate writing career. But enough about me.

More than a few of my Crimson columns through the years ventured into the first person. I’ve shared personal predictions, opinions, and family anecdotes. At its best, this I-in-writing style may have touched or amused some readers; at its memorable worst, it regrettably hurt quite a few.

Most times, though, better to just tell the story and not insist on being a part of it. The story about the softballer’s toughness, for instance, or the footballer’s heart or the baseballer’s thoughtfulness. All stories about members of the Class of 2008, and I’m just the storyteller.

—Staff writer Jonathan Lehman can be reached at jlehmanenator@gmail.com.