Of Bunnies and Hockey

Legend says it at all began in 1911 during the Harvard-Cornell hockey game.

During the game, legend has it that some crazy fans--either daring or drunk--threw some dead bunnies on the ice.

Check the January 30, 1911 issue of the Crimson, however, and you'll find no mention of dead bunnies. Only quick-witted, snappy prose: "The forwards for the University tried to play team-work, but in following the individual play of their opponents they became hopelessly drawn out of their positions."

The Big Red won, 3-2. No dead bunnies across the ice of Boston Arena that Saturday night in 1911.

But the myth has continued.

All through the years. All the way to Bright Center, 1989, and to five Harvard fans who pay tribute to those furry animals every weekend during hockey season.

They sit in the student section, wearing Harvard sweatshirts and bunny masks that rival Bugs, Peter and Roger.

I had to talk to them. They agreed, but only on condition of anonymity. It's a bunny rule. Helps the bunny mystique.

I had one question: Why bunnies?

They told me the story of the 1911 Great Bunny Massacre at Boston Arena. The dead bunnies will not be forgotten.

"We're doing it to pay reverance of the dead bunnies of 1911," Bunny A said.

I knew they were crazy.

Rarely at a Harvard sporting event do you find characters--loud, obnoxious fans who lead cheers and scream their lungs out all for a team.

This year, the Bunny Quintet is fast becoming Bright's newest institution. Veiled in masks and carrying the signs that made the Big Guy so famous, they give life to Bright Center.

The student section, once quiet, once drab, is alive again. First it was the Big Guy. Now, five bunnies and a few of their non-bunny friends.

"We have the best team in the country," Bunny B said, "and I don't think people really get into it vocally."

But this is Bright Center, not Cornell's Lynah Rink, not Vermont's Gutterson Arena, not RPI's Houston Field House. Noise and Harvard hockey? Only happens when the Crimson scores or when the opposing goalie is having a bad night.

But before the game, it's quiet. At the beginning of the game, seats are still empty. When it's late in the third period and Harvard's up by 15 goals, everyone's snoozing.

Except for five bunnies and some friends trying to create some noise.

"There are so many people and it could be so much louder," Bunny C said. "Such a minority of people cheer. People need leaders."

Five bunnies leading the cheers at Bright Center?

Crazy.

Last Saturday at St. Lawrence's Appleton Arena, the five bunnies were spotted behind. the Harvard bench. Harvard won, 5-1, and the bunnies and their four human friends made more noise than the town of Canton, N.Y.

They took an eight-hour trip to Canton, caught the game, and drove back the same night in wet snow and on winding roads.

"It was like driving eight hours to see a movie," Bunny D said.

But it was no movie. Eight hours one way, eight hours back. In between, Harvard defeats the number-one team in the nation.

Throats are sore. Exams are two days away. But the feeling is great.

Definitely crazy.

They're planning to go to Lynah in February. A trip to the Mecca of Noise, the Circus of Thrills.

"We'll have our hands full going there," Bunny E said.

Amid the flying fish and chickens, Cornell fans will see bunnies. These masked fans will try to scream, try to cheer. Not so easy. This is Lynah, not Bright.

They do it all for a hockey team. They do it to change the image that there are no characters in the Harvard stands.

They do it because hockey games at Bright should be fun, an open-inivitation party. Great hockey and great fans--it's a bunny motto.

Don't forget the Great Bunny Massacre.

Real crazy.