WALLY'S WORLD: Rushing 101: How To Storm the Field

It is my opinion that you always have a choice.
Chicken or fish. Yankees or Red Sox. Studying for an Ec midterm or playing Super Smash Brothers.
But for me, one choice stands above all the rest: to rush or not to rush, that is the question.
Did you know Shakespeare was one of the first men in history to rush the field after a rousing victory?
I’m pretty sure it’s true!
For this singular act—charging the field after a thrilling triumph—is one of sports’ greatest moments.
It is an art, with its own set of patterns, techniques, and masterstrokes.
I’d like to consider myself an aspiring artist. As Joyce did so before, allow me to provide advice and inspiration to those of you artists as young men and women out there looking to join (to rush if you will) this exclusive fraternity (or sorority, we’re non-exclusive here).
Without further ado, the five principles of field storming, as ordained by Wally (me).
Pledges! Let’s rush.
Principle 1: Pay attention to the game.
There are many do’s and don’t’s when it comes to rushing the field. Do rush after a thrilling come-from-behind victory, a win over a hated rival, or a huge upset over a ranked team.
Do not rush after beating a team we should have beaten. Do not rush after a blowout (unless, as per usual, we spank the living crap out of those Yalies). And, for goodness’ sake, don’t ever rush after a loss.
I’ve seen it happen to the best, and the most drunken, of us. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a hundred times.
You have had one or ten too many shots of whatever was in your buddy’s flask, lost track of the game entirely, and you run on stage because you’re just that crazy. You are. We know you are. But you got to pay attention to the game, bro. We just lost 40-10.
Principle 2: Analyze the situation
‘Lyze the Sitch’, for those familiar with top-secret rush lingo. As the clock counts down, and your team is nearing a thrilling victory, your job is only beginning. While the rest of the crowd loses control, frolics about, and “high-fives” each other, you must maintain complete focus at all times.
If you don’t, your rush could end before it even started.
I’ll give you an example.
My freshman year, Harvard traveled to Yale and competed in probably the greatest playing of the Game in the storied history of its rivalry with the aforementioned sucky Bulldogs.
I was inspired by the halftime exploits of a now-famous former Sports Editor, Timothy J. McGinn ’07. He rushed onto the field and stole Handsome Dan, the ugly bulldog of a mascot for Eli’s bunch of nitwits and smelly people.
He ran and ran and took that Dan all the way up to the top of the Stand(s). It was Picasso at his finest hour, Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, and Marky Mark in “The Departed.”
But he would have been nothing without preparation. He analyzed where the cops were, when was the appropriate time to fly, and when the bell tolled, it tolled for he.
“It was all about Principle 2, baby,” McGinn may have been quoted as saying after the game.
Principle 3: Get Down, Get Shakin’, and Get Bakin’.
Inspired, I ran out onto the field as the Crimson finished the third overtime on top. I somehow, someway, was the first to hit the ground running.
I was also the first target. A Yale policeman with a big butt came on a beeline right for me. But you know what? I was so freaking ready.
Quick jab to the right, spin move out of his grasp, and I was in open field. I sprinted as fast as I could, got between the players, and I was safe.
I was moving. I was grooving. And, oh yeah, I was rushing.
Principle 4: Have a super-sweet diss move.
Last weekend, after Harvard’s come-from-behind victory against Holy Cross, I was one of four brave souls who saw it fitting to rush.
I executed the prior three principles to a tee (although the cop presence was very low), and ran out, arms extended, smiling, jumping, and laughing to my heart’s content.
But there was one thing missing: my finishing move.
I was inspired, as past readers will attest to, by WWE Wrestling and, that’s right, D Generation X. The squad’s trademark: one arm pointed up, the second arm pointed up, the two come down in an X, and you say it: SUCK IT!
Oh, I let those Knights know: they were done. They were so done. My super-sweet diss move told the whole story.
Principle 5: Have fun.
Now, you’re ready to storm that field, safely and appropriately. Make it your own work of art, and never let anyone—be it cop, Yalie, or inebriated friend—stop you.
Have fun with it, bring your friends along, and enjoy yourself.
As for me, I’ll just keep living the dream.
—Staff writer Walter E. Howell can be reached at wehowell@fas.harvard.edu.