Southern Comfort?

When I say 'college football,' what do you think?

Do you think of the southern tradition of football, with the fraternity brothers dressed for a cocktail party, flanked by their date, cheering on their school in a mass of enthusiasm, surrounded by 40,000 or more of their comrades?

Or do you think of Harvard Stadium, with a smattering of dedicated parents, fans, locals, and yes, students, cheering on the Crimson with a great deal of enthusiasm, yet paling in comparison to the more vociferous southern image.

When I attended a 'southern' football game four years ago, the experience stuck in my mind. Was I particularly impressed by this spectacle? I don't know. But the event sparked my interest as a gesture of school spirit.

Football games bring the campus together--even if superficially--in the guise of school spirit. The possibility that a majority of students are there for the excuse of bringing a date or to consume alcohol does not weaken the point: The student body chose the football game to converge and engage in this revelry.

Why are the two games so different? Indeed one major answer lies in the social vehicles of the schools--Greek life in southern universities often dominates the college social atmosphere and football games become ritualistic social functions for fraternities and sororities. The success of their team has little or no effect on this weekly affair.

The lack of a Greek system at Harvard immediately changes the makeup of the crowd. Even when given the opportunity Harvard students will not use a home football game as a venue for a date. An Undergraduate Council Bring a Date to the Brown Game" event two years ago--though sponsored by an adamant southern football fan--fell far short of expectations.

Harvard's urban setting also unfortunately cripples the chances of a wellattended football game. In a city known for its sports tradition, Bostonians often rightfully choose Boston College football games to fill their Saturday football needs. Boston's sporting options also extend far beyond Chestnut Hill.

Cities such as Charlottesville, Chapel Hill, and Athens, Ga. have only their presective college football teams as athletic torchbearers--if every major college and professional sports team was eliminated except for Harvard, Memorial Drive would have to be closed off every Saturday to accommodate the crowds.

The question then also concerns the social makeup of different campuses. Does the University of Georgia necessarily have more "sports fans" than Harvard's diverse makeup?

Perhaps, but when one considers the cultural and urban options available for Boston's 300,000 college students, southern coeds may be forced into the role of the "sports fan," football being one of the few social options on Saturday-- if merely showing up constitutes such a label.

Yet one opinion suggests that the grass is always greener, as one collegiate columnist from Vanderbilt recently declared, "The spirit of the school ends up in a bottle of Jose Cuervo about 10 minutes after kickoff."

When I decided to attend Harvard, I knew I would be giving up the raucous Saturday afternoon football games. Harvard will never draw 40,000 people for every home game, but then again, I don't miss any semblance of a Greek system. Besides, I'm not a huge fan of small towns, and my classes here never cease to amaze me.

Perhaps I've learned that asking for the best academic school in the world, a thriving city, and a raucous football stadium is a bit much. So, take a trip south, spend some time at another institution--then come back to Harvard.

You'll be surprised to find that school spirit" is indeed in the eye of the beholder.