" Second-seeded at the Eastern sprints because of a single defeat, Harvard's crew proved it is still top-dog. " (May 19,1969)

" It's official Harvard: Penn's crew is better than yours, and if you don't like it you can go out and arrange a match race... But congratulations, anyway, Harvard, on your mighty eight-length victory over Yale. You'd have to kiss your sister to top that... So there it is, Harvard, and when the word gets to your alumni that we are in the 20th century and there are other schools in the land besides Yale, don't feel bashful about ringing up the IRA. " (June 23, 1969)

What Sports Illustrated staffer Hugh Whall wrote in a fit of pique last year after Harvard's heavyweight crew refused once again to race in the Intercollegiate Rowing Association regatta in favor of its four-mile event with Yale has been the sentiment of a number of crew writers and followers ever since Pennsylvania has become a threat to Harvard's dominance of the American college rowing scene.

Irritated that Harvard prefers to wallop Yale annually for the sake of tradition rather than meet Penn in a winner-take-all showdown at Syracuse, and bothered by the Crimson's unshakable nonchalance about a formally recognized national champion, Harvard's critics have expressed their discontent in such various methods as Whall's highly emotional pieces and the NCAA's decision to recognize the I. R. A. regatta as an officially-sanctioned national championship.

But the mere fact that Harvard and Yale met again in New London Saturday, June 13, despite the fact that the Elis were almost certain to lose-and lose badly-is another sign of the unique Harvard attitude towards the sport, an attitude that, as Whall says, belongs back in the 19th century. But for that very reason, Crimson oarsmen feel, with a measure of validity, that their approach to crew is designed to bring about the greatest amount of fulfillment for the competitor.

There are, of course, quite good reasons why Harvard should boycott the I. R. A. in favor of the Yale race, although the Crimson has thus far declined to use them as arguments.

First, with the exception of such Western crews as California, Stanford and Washington, the Syracuse regatta is almost an exact duplicate of the Eastern Sprint event. The same EARC boats that Harvard has defeated at Worcester for the past seven years, including Penn, enter the I. R. A., and the Crimson feels that it is unnecessary to have to prove its superiority again if there is something more attractive to do on the same day.

Add to this the fact that Penn has won the varsity event at Syracuse for the past four years, the fact that Western crews have tended to slip out of national prominence in recent years, as evidenced by their lack of success at the I. R. A. as well as at the Olympic trials, and the fact that Penn traditionally rows less well in June than in May, and it seems fairly obvious, from a competitive standpoint, why Harvard stays away.

More importantly, the I. R. A. is hardly a national championship event, regardless of what the N. C. A. A. feels. It only allows member colleges to enter, and restricts entrance to heavyweight eights. Thus, the Harvard varsity lightweight boat which roared through its season unbeaten, won the Sprint title by more than two lengths, and voted to apply to the varsity race at the I. R. A. was turned down, since by the I. R. A. standards, it was not the top-ranking shell at its college.

But at M. I. T., Yale and Princeton, the lightweight boats are all measurably better than their heavyweight counterparts, and in each case except Yale, of course, it is the heavyweight boats that are going to Syracuse.

"It's quite clear what the I. R. A. committee is trying to do," says one lightweight oarsmen. "They want to force the heavies to give up the Yale race and come to Syracuse to decide that national title. If Harvard doesn't, they'll crown Penn champion and publicize the fact. They're trying to get at Harvard's pride."

But the Crimson, apparently, cares little about who is considered the champion. Last year, after Whall's piece on Penn's victory had appeared, heavyweight stroke Art Evans said that Harvard's varsity didn't give a damn about a recognized national title, that the boat had proved to itself everything it had to by winning at Worcester in May, and that the Yale race would probably be held as long as both colleges felt it was a valid experience. And there is no indication that either crew feels differently this year' either, although Yale failed to even make the varsity finals at the Sprints in May, and finished a poor fourth in the consolation race.

The furor over Harvard's I. R. A. boycott is fairly recent, actually. As late as 1965, when Harvard's dominance was unquestionable, Sports Illustrated considered the Syracuse regatta little more than a runner up event, and that year, after Navy had upset the field there, the magazine ran a banner headline over its story that read-CHAMPIONSHIPS MINUS THE CHAMP. The cover showed a montage of coach Harry Parker and "The World's Best Crew," and inside, Whall was saying, "When Harvard shows up competition seems to vanish." Later than a month later, however, the Vesper Boat Club defeated the Crimson at Henley, and according to one Harvard athletic official, " Sports Illustrated has never forgiven us since."

When Joe Burk and Ted Nash began to build their powerhouse at Pennsylvania, however, the question of Harvard's absolute superiority became less and less of a foregone conclusion. By 1967, the Quaker junior varsity and freshman boats had begun to defeat their Harvard counterparts with regularity, and it seemed only a matter of time until the deep, enthusiastic Penn program would overtake the Crimson at the varsity level, as well.

A year ago at Philadelphia it happened. Jumping Harvard at the start, the Quakers pulled away steadily during the body of the race and went on to a decisive 1 3/4 length victory. To most Eastern crew writers, it seemed as though the Crimson dynasty was finally at an end. "Penn will be at the top of the crew world for a long, long time," Globe staff writer John Ahern prophesied. But the Quaker "dynasty" was to last only a week. Breaking out even with Penn off the start at the Eastern Sprints, the Crimson moved out steadily during the second 500 meters of the race, held off Penn's high stroke, and finished nearly a length in front. Suddenly, the championship issue had been clouded again, and due to Harvard's insistence upon racing at New London instead of Syracuse, it was never to be resolved formally, except by Whall and the Quakers.

The cycle repeated itself again last month when Penn whipped Harvard on the Charles in the Adams Cup regatta, only to lose at Worcester the following weekend. And since the Crimson has decided neither to race at the I. R. A. nor follow Penn to Henley in July, the issue will still be open.

But it is not Harvard's refusal to accommodate those who would crown a titlist as much as it is the Crimson's attitude towards the sport that baffles its critics. The reason that the Harvard oarsmen gave this year for racing Yale is the same one their predecessors gave in 1965, when the Crimson was allowed to have its will without much protest. It is the aura of tradition which surrounds the race, as well as the intriguing idea of a four-mile test of strength, that makes the Yale race so much more attractive to Harvard, and despite the fact that the Crimson has won the last seven races by a combined margin of 52 1/4 lengths, both sides feel that the margin is somewhat secondary to the spirit of the race.

"We have a clear-cut set of goals," Evans explains, "and winning championships doesn't place extremely high on the list. We want to do our best, of course, and that usually means winning at the Sprints as well as at the other regattas. But regardless of how well we do at Worcester, we don't feel as though we have to prove our superiority anywhere else to anybody. As long as we satisfy ourselves, the season has been a success."

Evan's approach, which is shared by the vast majority of Harvard oarsmen, goes a long way in explaining why the Crimson decided not to go to Henley this summer for a match race with Penn, and why it refused to race Western Sprint champion UCLA this month, even though the Bruins were willing to come to Cambridge for the race after passing up the I. R. A.

The UCLA offer, although tempting to the Crimson, would have necessitated a disruption in Harvard's special training program for the four-mile race, and coach Harry Parker felt that such a disruption would probably prevent the Crimson from doing its best in either race.

Parker, in a very real sense, has formed the Harvard rowing philosophy. Unlike Nash, who took over head coaching duties from Burk this year at Penn, Parker shuns the gungho, Storm Trooper approach that has been a trademark of the Quaker program since Nash's arrival. He is the master tactician, never panicking, highly analytic-and thus inspires the highest confidence in his oarsmen, win a race, there's no question about it," says senior Charlie Hamlin. "His stress on style and conditioning as well as the calm, rational attitude he takes has convinced us that if we row our best race we'll be sure, or almost sure, to win."

More importantly, Parker places a higher value upon rowing one's best, rather than winning. In fact, when his seven-man hurt his hand so severely before the Stein Cup race last April that he was a questionable starter, Parker allegedly told his crew that he would seriously consider forfeiting the regatta, one the Crimson was sure to win easily, if the oarsmen could not compete. He was that concerned about the shell staying together as a unit.

He was equally concerned about his varsity's participation at Worcester in May, when there was a question about the propriety of rowing during the student strike over Cambodia.

"Harry made it clear that the decision to compete at the Sprints was entirely up to us," Hamlin recalls. "If we had chosen to stay away, he would have backed us, just as he did at the Olympics when the crew became involved in the black protest."

It is to a large degree the result of the Crimson's confidence in Parker moreover, that Harvard has managed to turn the trick on Penn at the Sprints with such authority in each of the last two years. In each instance, Penn's margin of victory in the Adams Cup a week earlier had seemed to make the Quakers insuperable at Worcester. But after each defeat Parker noticed something that he and his oarsmen corrected during practice sessions, and at Worcester, it was Harvard that was insuperable.

Both of Penn's Adams Cup victories were achieved with the help of an explosive start that got the Quakers out front early, and kept them there. If Harvard could only burst off the start equally fast, Parker thought the Crimson's traditional ability to move on a boat while understroking it could win it the race. And in each case, that is exactly what happened.

Unused to rowing in a bow-to-bow race, Penn desperately tried to break Harvard by means of an unusually high stroke count. It had worked at Philadelphia and it had worked at Cambridge. And in each case the Quakers had been ahead safely enough so that if the rapid fluctuation in cadence backfired, it had a comfortable lead to fall back upon.

But at Worcester Penn never had that lead either year. Last May, with Harvard rowing at a 36 through the body of the race, Penn jumped as high as 48 in an attempt to close the margin, and never succeeded. Harvard won, without question, by the 1500 meter mark in each case.

"It came down to the fact that we knew that no crew can row a 48 down the course that early in the season without paying for it later in the race," Evan feels. When Penn was ahead, it wouldn't hurt them to jump the stroke. When it was bow-to-bow, it was fatal."

Hans Eckstein, the coach of the Einheit Dresden eight which whipped Penn in the Henley finals last summer, had a similar analysis.

"The Pennsylvania crew was in very fine condition" he said, "but their technique was all wrong."

It is for that reason, primarily, that several Harvard oarsmen believe that what is true at the Sprints would be true at the I. R. A., or at Henley, or anywhere Harvard met Penn after their first race. When both crews row their best, Harvard seems to win. That is what the Crimson proves to itself at Worcester. And that is why Harvard rowed at New London, rather than at Syracuse, last June.