Line and Dine

What do you get when you cram six 300-pound football players into one car?

A road trip to McDonald’s, of course.

At least that was the case when senior offensive linemen Joe Mujalli, James Bakken and Joe Traverso lived together in DeWolfe last summer and invited three teammates along on their food runs.

“I fear for the other cars,” Mujalli says. “And then McDonald’s fears when we come.”

Sounds like McDonald’s and opposing defensive lines have something in common.

Frequently laughing that their lives revolve around eating, the three seniors embrace their far-from-sleek physiques and all else that comes with being an offensive lineman. They keep up non-stop banter as they attempt to explain the “O-line mentality” in terms of food and their softer side, and in doing so, they feed off each other as much as the massive amounts of food they eat.

“We like to say we’re fat and happy,” Bakken says.

“I don’t say that we’re fat,” Mujalli counters.

“Beautiful and happy,” Traverso interjects.

“We’re full-figured,” Mujalli states. “We’re voluptuous.”

No matter how they put it, the three have used their girth to anchor Harvard’s offense through an injury-riddled season, most notably in the receiving corps and at quarterback.

The Crimson is still second in the Ivy League in offense, averaging 465.6 yards per game, thanks in no small part to the work of the offensive line.

“If you look at the three seniors, those guys have been the ironmen,” says Harvard coach Tim Murphy. “They’ve been at every practice. They’ve been our best players in games, and they have been the glue that has held this offense together.”

Not that the O-line hasn’t seen more than its fair share of injuries. Five of the seven linemen projected to see regular time have gone down at various points this year.

First there was junior center Andy Smith, who sprained an MCL before the season began. Sliding over into Smith’s slot was sophomore Will Johnson. Since Johnson has performed well as the snapper, Smith was moved to right guard when he returned.

Junior left tackle Mike Frey went down with two broken ankle bones against Northeastern in the third week of the season, and junior right tackle Brian Lapham broke his hand in the same game. At the next practice, junior tackle Max McKibben sprained an MCL. Sophomore tackles Will Rodgers and Bennett Kowalk both have bulging disks in their backs, and Bakken suffered a concussion.

“I’ve been the healthiest of the group except for the concussion,” Bakken says.

“Besides the fact that you went to see the doctor,” Traverso jabs.

Because of the injuries, Bakken has played four different positions this season, often switching on a series-to-series basis.

“Right tackle, left tackle, right guard,” Mujalli rattles off the positions Bakken has played. “If you got down to it, you’d probably play center.”

“He did play center,” Traverso says.

“I did play center,” Bakken agrees.

“He’s played center,” Mujalli says with a grin.

“All of [the positions] except for mine,” notes Traverso, who plays left guard. “You will not play mine.”

If these three have been the glue holding the offense together, then offensive line coach Ron Crook has been making sure that glue is spread evenly.

The linemen credit Crook for helping the ground game, which has stayed steady even with the less mobile junior quarterback Garrett Shires splitting time with Fitzpatrick. Harvard averaged 209.3 yards per game in the first four weeks of the season and 225.6 yards per game in the last five. Freshman running back Clifton Dawson in particular has been taking advantage of the holes the O-line has been able to open up, rushing for over 1000 yards this season.”

Crook has also been instrumental in preparing the line so well that transitions after injuries have been seamless.

“[Crook] helped keep us together as a unit,” Mujalli says. “When one guy goes down, he reassures us that everything’s going to be fine, it’s going to work out.”

Although Crook has proven himself as a coach, he hasn’t quite picked up on the O-line’s brand of humor, part of what they term the “O-line mentality.”

“As an offensive lineman especially, we just get beat up [in practice],” Traverso explains. “It’s a constant process. There’s no break in the grind, and you just have to be a little bit odd the rest of the time to make up for it.”

The “odd” behavior includes bursting into improvised songs, attending team meetings naked (as a unit, of course) and an unusual sense of humor. Mujalli cracks up the other two when he belts out an example song: “Oh, Ex-pos! I had Ex-pos to-day!”

“There are just things, trends, you know?” Mujalli tries to explain. “Guys yell out different things like, ‘Eggs!’ or just noises.”

And the naked meetings?

“It scares our coaches and other players,” Mujalli admits. “There’s towels, but the towels that are issued are very small. They cover other players, but…”

“Not us,” Traverso finishes.

The O-line mentality is, apparently, infectious. Because of the injuries this year, some defensive linemen have had to switch over to the offensive line, and the O-liners enjoy watching the change that comes over them.

Bakken, who made the switch from the D-line during the spring season of his freshman year, can relate.

“It happened slowly for me,” he remembers.

“You were a little shell-shocked at first,” Traverso says.

It’s clear that Bakken is an O-lineman through and through by now, and he agrees with the other two that there’s a sense of tradition being passed down class by class. Traverso credits Jack Fadule and Dan Wiedle (both ’03) for teaching him “how to be an offensive lineman” and helping him embrace the largely unrecognized position.

The unit is tight, with the seniors saying they’re more like brothers than mere teammates. The closeness continues throughout the classes, as the offensive linemen convert each newcomer to the “mentality” and the traditions, including the all-important O-line Thursday night dinner.

“There’s pride taken in how much one can put away,” Mujalli says.

“At the very least, three courses, and some people do dessert,” Traverso says.

“You sometimes get claps for what you end up ordering,” Bakken adds. “We’ll say, ‘Oh! Nice.’”

“One goal is to be stuffed by the time your entrée gets there, which is always good,” Mujalli continues. “Then you have to push through to the end. It’s frowned upon if anyone leaves any food on their plate.”

“And then it’s promptly finished by everyone else,” Traverso notes.

“Because if you don’t feel like continuing to eat what you’ve ordered…” Bakken starts to say.

“It’ll go,” concludes Mujalli.

“Yep, it’s gone,” Traverso affirms.

These seniors also benefit from the custom of freshmen “donations” of snacks for bus rides. They take great joy in controlling not only the supply among the O-line but also distribution to the other positions.

Snacks weren’t as easy to come by this summer, however, when their George Foreman grill was their primary cooking tool. Although it is hard to imagine how the grill could lead to unwanted mess, the offensive linemen insist that no amount of cleaning could rid their room of a mysterious smell.

“It had to be a health code violation,” Mujalli says.

“I pity whoever lives in that room in DeWolfe right now,” Traverso says.

“It was a freezer full of food, of all meat,” Mujalli recounts. “We would just grill up on a Foreman Grill. It knocked out the fat, but we put the fat somewhere where we probably shouldn’t have.”

Even with the smell, the three still couldn’t wait to get off work and eat together. Bakken worked at Mellon Financial, Mujalli worked at a tech start-up and Traverso worked on a research project. They would meet up after work to lift, then ate at Uno’s (all-you-can-eat Tuesdays) or raced home to the Foreman Grill.

Grocery shopping was a similar race among the three.

“We’d all have our own cart,” Bakken says happily. “Me and Joe [Traverso] went to Costco this summer.”

“We spent a lot of money at Costco,” Traverso says.

“I just went up and down every aisle and picked out what I wanted,” Mujalli explains his shopping technique. “That’s not really a very smart idea, especially if you’re hungry.”

“Somebody would find something that they liked, and we’d all rush over and go get it,” Bakken remembers. “So we’d all have piles of stuff.”

They also instituted arts-and-crafts Tuesdays—“The pinwheels went over well,” says Mujalli—and got addicted to Paradise Hotel, the reality show on FOX.

“Our lives shut down for an hour Tuesday and Wednesday or Monday and Wednesday, whenever it was on—it depended on the week,” Traverso says seriously. “We would just sit there and watch it as the drama unfolded. It was incredible.”

“Amazing. Then we’d all discuss it at lift the next day,” Mujalli says.

“Cause our strength coach watched it, too,” Bakken says.

Say what?

“Once the other guys heard us talking about it—” Mujalli says.

“It was all over,” Bakken concludes.

“It left a void in our lives that I don’t think we can hope to fill,” Traverso says.

“That’s something about O-linemen that people don’t know,” Mujalli says. “We watch things like reality TV.”

Who would think that men who thrive in the trenches of football would care about a show that’s really a soap opera in disguise?

But these offensive linemen are more than just brutes and beef. They have a softer side, and they have no problem using it against each other.

Mujalli pointed out that Traverso, who is from Sacramento, Calif., is “an accomplished sousaphone player,” and also practices yoga.

“I think it’s part of the West Coast thing,” Mujalli muses.

“It really is,” Traverso nods.

“I never really understood the downward dog,” Mujalli strokes his chin as he contemplates the basic yoga position.

“It helps you focus,” replies Traverso.

Mujalli moves on to Bakken, who freely admits that he draws comic book characters and Disney characters for wall decorations. A slight disagreement arises when Mujalli says that Bakken also writes poetry.

Apparently that’s taking the softer side of O-linemen too far.

“Come on, you write poetry,” Mujalli insists over Bakken’s protests. “Those haikus count!”

“I don’t even know what a haiku is,” Bakken replies.

“He’s been published,” Traverso enters the fray. “I don’t have [a copy] on me. I left them in my other pair of pants. But it’s inspirational.”

Watching them interact, the bonds between the three are obvious. Now they have just one more game left in their football careers, a concept they say hasn’t yet sunk in. But they know that the O-linemen traditions live on past them, and they have done their part to leave their imprint on the program.

On the field, they’ve propelled Harvard through its injuries to No. 1 in the Ivies with 218.4 yards rushing per game this season, up from 164 yards last year. Off the field, they’ve left enough traditions and tales for several classes to come.

“Maybe we take it for granted when something funny happens because it happens all the time,” Mujalli muses.

“And it probably wouldn’t be funny to other people,” Traverso adds.“People say, ‘Oh you had to be there,’” Mujalli says. “But we say, ‘Oh, you had to be there and be an O-lineman. Concurrently.’”

One lasting memory stems from the team-wide feats of strength competition held each year after winter conditioning. Traverso has gone to extraordinary lengths to win the wrestling competition, called “King of the Mat.”

Two years ago, Traverso coated every inch of his body with Crisco, which performed the dual role of making him too disgusting to touch for most teammates and slippery enough to squeeze out of holds by the ones brave enough for contact. After it took “five showers” to get off the oil, he coated his body with shaving cream last year, and Johnson—inspired by Traverso’s effort the year before—used K-Y jelly.

“I’m sure [Johnson] showered it off more easily,” Mujalli says.

“It’s water-based,” Traverso says quite frankly about the K-Y Jelly. “But I would have cooked up nice afterwards.”

“Naw, you wouldn’t have burned,” Mujalli grins.

“I wouldn’t have stuck either,” Traverso says.

Unsurprisingly, it all comes back to food.

—Staff writer Brenda E. Lee can be reached at belee@fas.harvard.edu.