Aging Years in the Course of a Game

As soon as the horn blew, they were all old men. Their hockey sticks had turned into canes, their helmets into wool hats, their jerseys into battered overcoats.

As soon as the horn blew, they were applying for social security benefits. They were inquiring about condo rates in Florida. They were digging into their closets for golf clubs.

As soon as Michigan State dispatched Harvard, 5-3, in the second game of a NCAA total-goals series Saturday at Bright Center, Harvard's seniors on the ice and in the stands looked old.

Harvard's five seniors on the ice had given four years of their youth to Harvard hockey. They had sewn their best days into the emblem at mid-ice, given thousands of numbered heartbeats to fighting in tense game after tense game.

Harvard's countless seniors in the stands had donated their voices--and, more valuable, their Friday and Saturday nights--to the choir called Bright Center.

When the horn blew, they were all applying for membership in the Hair Club for Men. They were polishing their checkers sets.

Over and Over

Their years and careers had ended with an 11-8 total-goals loss to Michigan State last weekend at Bright Center.

"It's tough to label one game in particular that I'll remember," Harvard Captain Steve Armstrong said, leaning back in his rocking chair Saturday. "I'll have to let it hit me. All of the sudden, I'll think of something."

They were all buying copies of Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days." They were all dusting off their freshman face books.

Saturday, Harvard's five senior icemen--Armstrong, John Devin, Andy Janfaza, Jerry Pawloski and Don Sweeney--saw four years of fame dissolve into a puddle of Grecian Formula.

After the horn blew, the average age of people in the stands doubled.

Before Saturday's game, Big Al--the guy who comes to each game bearing a loud voice and a portfolio of signs--dropped a flyer on every seat which encouraged the fans to be as vocal as they ever have been. And they were.

They yelled louder than they ever have. They were wittier, nastier than they ever have been. Joke after joke fell upon the green and white sea above the Michigan State bench.

Still, it wasn't enough. The season could not be prolonged. Harvard will go home--not onward to more tournament games--this spring break.

Claude Pepper

When the horn blew, the Gray Panthers had a couple of hundred new members. Fearing an onslaught, Harvard Square Theater raised its senior citizen rate.

Big Al will graduate this spring. Bright won't be so bright without him.

Something called the real world awaits these people. Something as hard as ice, but not as fun to play on.

Those of us lucky enough to be hanging around Fantasy Island for awhile yet can only say, "So long. Send a postcard."

And keep that spot on the park bench warm.