GET A LODHA THIS: Fighting My Fear of the Turtle

My name is Karan Lodha, and I am a Maryland Terrapins fan.

I’ve got the shorts, bright white and blazoned with red, black, and gold. I’ve got two hats—one with a snarling turtle that is often mistaken for a duck, one with “2002 National Champions” displayed proudly across the front.

Juan Dixon. Steve Blake. Lonny Baxter. Chris Wilcox. Byron Mouton.

Coach Gary Williams.

I don’t have a third hat, one celebrating the women basketball team’s first-ever NCAA Tournament title in Boston in 2006.

But make no mistake: when the Terrapins edged the Blue Devils, 78-75, in overtime on April 4, it was one of the best birthday presents I received.

Laura Harper. Marissa Coleman. Crystal Langhorne. Kristi Toliver. Shay Doron.

Coach Brenda Frese.

Fast-forward 11 months, and I was faced with a dilemma.

After starting the season 2-11, the Harvard women’s basketball team had raced to a 13-1 Ivy League record and a No. 15 seed in the NCAA Tournament.

Its opponent in the first round? The defending national champion.

It was time for the Crimson to Fear the Turtle.

The Harvard women had been on hand to witness Maryland’s triumph over Duke at TD Banknorth Garden, little realizing that the Terrapins would stand in the way of just their second-ever NCAA Tournament victory the following year.

The Crimson had made history with an upset of No. 1 seed Stanford in 1998, the only No. 16 seed to ever topple a top squad at the NCAA Tournament.

But Maryland wouldn’t go down easily, as the 2006 national champions returned all five of their starters this season, including former Harvard recruit Doron.

And, of course, All-American Allison Feaster ’98, the architect of Harvard’s legendary upset, was long gone from the collegiate ranks, having moved on to the WNBA.

The question on everyone’s mind: Could Harvard do it again?

The question on my mind: Could I root for the Crimson?

Torn loyalties: it’s a common occurrence in Cambridge. Given Harvard’s mediocrity in most sports, students often come to campus with allegiances to other college teams. Why be a Crimson Crazy when you can be a Cameron Crazy?

Despite hailing from the Bay Area, I rejected popular hometown options such as Stanford, Cal, and Santa Clara, opting instead for the greener pastures of College Park, Md. Though I had to suffer through years of Duke’s domination, it was worth the wait.

I knew the turtles wouldn’t hide in their shells forever.

But little did I expect that I would ever have to choose between my beloved Terrapins and the Cantabridgian Crimson.

Usually, I could split my loyalties. Basketball: Maryland. Hockey: Harvard. Soccer: Maryland. Squash: Harvard. Football: both—one in the Bowl Subdivision, one in the Championship Subdivision.

But on March 12, 2007, the two worlds collided. The NCAA Selection Committee had spoken: Maryland and Harvard would face each other in the first round of the NCAA Tournament in Hartford, Conn.

At first, I was ecstatic. My two favorite schools, facing each other in a high-stakes game—and I might even be able to make it down to Hartford for the matchup!

But then, reality set back in. Both teams wouldn’t leave Connecticut happy. In this Bud Selig-less world, there would be no ties.

I had to choose.

Maryland seemed the obvious option. The Terrapins were the defending national champions, the No. 1 team in the preseason polls, and a contender to challenge for a spot in the Final Four in Cleveland. The Crimson, on the other hand, had little chance of winning anything, and Harvard coach Kathy Delaney-Smith and her players seemed acutely aware of that fact.

But it wasn’t that easy.

Like every true fan of March’s madness, I love to root for the underdog. And though I may grimace at the perpetually horrendous state of Harvard men’s basketball, the Crimson women have an appeal that’s tough for anyone to neglect.

So I did it. For once, I fought my fear—the Fear of the Turtle.

As I settled down in front of the television to watch the game on ESPN, I found myself rooting for Harvard.

When Christiana Lackner hit a three to give the Crimson a 7-3 lead, I felt joy.

When a Lindsay Hallion jumper scared Maryland into a 20-second timeout, I felt excitement.

When ESPN repeatedly referred to Harvard’s big upset in 1998, I felt hope.

Of course, the Terrapins didn’t sit tight for long. Though they only led by 13 at halftime, the outcome of the game was hardly in doubt, with Maryland dominating steadily throughout.

But the Crimson never stopped fighting—or believing.

With the Terrapins leading 56-32, Emily Tay drove to the basket for a left-handed finish, drawing a foul on the play.

And when she pumped her fist in triumph, I pumped my fist, too.

The Crimson stuck with it until the end, with Jessica Knox draining threes and Liz Tindal grabbing boards against the team with the best rebounding margin in the country.

Harvard would have no fairy-tale ending, but the Crimson wasn’t ready to be a doormat, either.

Fortunately, my conflicting loyalties did not tear me apart. With Maryland ahead by plenty, I could cheer for Harvard while resting assured that the Terrapins would move on.

It wasn’t heaven, but it was about as good as purgatory gets.

So, for one day, I put away my red, white, black, and gold and bled crimson instead.

But today, when Maryland plays Mississippi in the second round, there will be just one phrase on my lips.

Fear the Turtle—once again.

—Staff writer Karan Lodha can be reached at klodha@fas.harvard.edu.