Back at Southeast High School it is a big think for a sophomore to be the team star or a letter winner. Even at colleges upper class-area understandably dominate intercollegiate sports.

But during the last 10 years at Harvard, there's been a reversal. Sophomores, for example, won more letters than juniors and sensors together this year in cross-country and track; sophomores outnumbered the upperclassmen on the hockey team; sophomores on the swimming team have been three times more numerous than seniors during the past two years.

It is not that this year's sophomore class has been exceptional: the pattern repeats every year in several sports. Take swimming. In the last seven years there have never been more senior than sophomore letter winners. Baseball batting averages are admittedly unpredictable, but it means something when the leading hitter among the regulars for the last four years has been a sophomore (Mike Patrick '65, Jim Tobin '66, Dan Hootstein '67, and Bob Welz '68).

If teams continually depend on sophomores, then upperclass athletes have been fading away. There are always individuals like track captain Tony Lynch and seven-foot high-jumper Chris Pardee who improve each year, but there are also many more athletes who taper off after their freshman or sophomore season.

I am not saying that the level of Harvard's intercollegiate athletics has declined -- in fact it is steadily improving. In two sports, squash and crew, Harvard has clearly had the best teams in the country for the last several years. Nor am I saying that student's decay physically at Harvard more than elsewhere. The House programs probably make the overall athletic level at Harvard and Yale higher than anywhere does in the country. They also provide an outlet for upperclassmen that desert the university ranks.

And yet, if these explanations do not account for the lack of Junior and senior athletics, what does? A variety of theories have been offered to make sense out of the statistics. First, it is often said that competition improves with each incoming freshman class. A look at comparative freshmen records over the past few years, however, shows that yearly variations are insignificant. A second hypothesis blames marriage for the disaffection of many of Harvard's finest athletes. It may have been for some -- sprinter Aggrey A word, for example, during his senior year. And yet, Coach John Yovicsin says that none of his married players have stopped their college football or have been hampered in their style. Not one married junior varsity player has thrown in the towel either.

Poor facilities cannot be credited with the decay of Harvard athletes. Only in skiing, golf, and tennis does Harvard have less than adequate accomodations.

The most plausible theories blame injury, age, and academic pressure for the downfall of sophomore stars. There is a little truth in each of these; long-distance runner Walt Hewlett, wrestler Howard Durfee, or alpine skier Mark Jensen were all hampered by injuries, and yet they are the exceptions. The percentage of injuries is so small that it cannot be a significant cause in athletic decay. Older athletes at Harvard occasionally slow down but rarely quit. At the age of 23 or 24, it is understandable that Awori or butterflier Neville Hayes never matched their sophomore performances, especially after having already competed in the Olympics. Academics too can hurt, but again the statistics are not convincing: about two-thirds of Harvard's varsity athletes say that their grades are best during the season of their sport, when they must keep regular schedules.

The best answer to the decay of Harvard athletes can be found in the admissions policy, which leans toward exceptional athletes with outside interests.

In high school talented athletes devote almost all their time to sports without warping their school life. It takes a lot more effort to excel at the intercollegiate level, and yet at the same time, with all Harvard's institutional activity, the athlete wants to spend less, not more, time at practice.

Swimmer Dave Abramson '65 is a classic example of the falling athlete. He set NCAA freshman records in both the 220 and 440 yard freestyles and defeated Yale's Ed Townsend and Dave Lyons both on the same day Eventually Abramson became the team's captain, but he never reached the promise of his freshman year.

"Twenty years ago I'd be shipwrecked if I didn't make an Olympian out of an Abramson,' "says swimming coach Bill Brooks, "but now I accept that he is a class marshal and has other committments as well as swimming."

One junior, who settled down to mediocre varsity participation after captaining an undefeated freshman team, explained his growing apathy: "I guess I spend too much time thinking how to be a good athlete. Athletes shouldn't think; they should play by instinct."

An athlete does not have to be mindless to be great, but he does not have to commit himself, and that's what is especially hard for a Harvard senior. Baaron B. Pittinger, director of sports information, estimates that he has seen 10 or 12 fully dedicated athletes in his seven years here.

In sports which require constant strain such as wrestling and swimming, seniors are hard to find. In the past six years seniors have comprised less than 10 per cent of the wrestling team twice and 20 per cent twice. This year's graduating class is the only class in years to finish with as many seniors as there were sophomores two years before. The class of 1965, in contrast, had seven letter-winners in 1963, three in 1964, letter and two in 1965. The class of 1965 lettered five in 1962, four in 1963, and two in 1964.