There were several lessons to be learned from last night’s Harvard football game against Brown. First up: I resent cheerleaders.
After all, who told them they could lead our cheers? We can do it ourselves, thank you very much. After hearing the cheer, “M-O-V-E… Move… the ball!” closely followed by “T-A-K-E, Take that ball away!” we stopped paying attention, so the cheerleaders started copying us. We would start a chant of “Defense!” and they would follow suit; we would speed up, they would fall behind. Cheerleaders indeed.
Next lesson is for the football team: if you bore us, we will find ways of entertaining ourselves, as we showed with the endless squadron of paper airplanes cascading down over the fans’ heads onto the front rows, the band, and the field. They hit their peak around half time when the football game was at its least engaging, then trailed off as the game picked up in intensity.
I think the turning point came when a high-flyer cruised over, headed toward the field. Its flight was stable, its trajectory was good. We started cheering it on, and it floated out and out, further and further onto the field. Our cheering built, and we erupted in applause when it landed a good ten yards past the sideline. Then I noticed that the Harvard defense had also, coincidentally, sacked the Brown quarterback. Half of us were cheering for the paper airplane, the other half for the great play. Oh well. That’s Harvard sports.
Allan
