Coaching on the collegiate level is a treacherously difficult undertaking. The competitors, especially at Ivy League schools, have interests apart from athletics. Alumni, again, more in evidence in the Ivies, put on pressures for victories, and college newspapers may harass the coach often with disturbing results.

The ideal coach, therefore, is one who can keep the athletes psychologically aroused, placate old grads with success, and establish good relations with the local press. Obviously this is a rare man.

But all the evidence on baseball coach-designate Loyal K. Park indicates that he may be a close approximation of the ideal. A husky 6-footer from Pennsylvania, Park combines outgoing big-buddy personality with a reportedly tough, no-nonsense approach to coaching. As Harvard defensive backfield coach in football, this style has gotten great results.

Park came to Harvard in 1965 from a three year stint at Boston College. In the first fall of his tutelage, Harvard's defenders picked off a record 16 passes. This year, All-Ivy safetymen John Tyson and Tom Williamson teamed with Tom Wynne, Mike Ananis and Bill Cobb for 23 steals.

Park explained his coaching philosophy a few days ago. Sitting in the bleachers of the IAB swimming pool to avoid notice--his baseball appointment had not yet been announced--he listed four requirements for a successful coach.

First, but in no particular order of importance, he said the coach must develop a working rapport with his players. "I've got players here from California and Florida," he explained, "They've got no parents to talk to. If they can't come to me with personal problems, then I've failed as a coach."

Second, he said, the coach must "instill in the team a desire to excell." "Winning may not be everything, but trying to win--well, that's life." Third, Park works on the individual. "The successful athlete--whether varsity or intramural--must have a desire to develop constantly his individual skills."

Finally, the coach must ensure that the sport remains an enjoyable experience for the player.

As defensive backfield coach Park has developed an incredibly close relationship with those four or five men who guard Harvard's airways. One of them said yesterday, "Loyal has changed me personally. Confidence and pride just flow out of him, and into us. He molds a real esprit de corps. He puts on terrific pressure during practice, but that makes the games all the easier. And you always know that, when you make a mistake, he'll be there to boost you up and tell you immediately how to correct it. He's the greatest coach I've ever had or seen."

Park likes to think of his players as brothers. "I'll ride on them," he said, "but no one else will." He never criticizes a player publically.

Like most Harvard coaches, Park has already acquired a feeling for the "correct" attitude toward sports. It's not that I don't like to win, but there are some coaches who, when they tell you how sincere they are about athletics being secondary to academics, are really talking out of both sides of their mouths," he said.

Unlike many Harvard coaches, on the other hand, Park is a holler guy. "I don't try to be a phony with the players," he said. "I tell them what's in my heart. I tell them what I believe." It is the conviction that a team which is only at half-strength physically, but is emotionally ready, will decimate an able-bodied but flat opponent.

Being a good coach, he says, is largely a matter of timing. "Its like Jack Benny. He knows when to give that goofy walk and silly look. It's difficult for a coach to say why he does something. It's just a feeling."

Loyal Park has got that coaching feeling.